William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (550 page)
Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
9.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
And brings the dire occasion in his arms
Of what we blame him for.
Of what we blame him for.
ARVIRAGUS
The bird is dead
That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipped from sixteen years of age to sixty,
To have turned my leaping time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.
Have skipped from sixteen years of age to sixty,
To have turned my leaping time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.
GUIDERIUS (
to Innogen
) O sweetest, fairest lily!
to Innogen
) O sweetest, fairest lily!
My brother wears thee not one half so well
As when thou grew’st thyself.
As when thou grew’st thyself.
BELARIUS O melancholy,
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom, find
The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Might easiliest harbour in? Thou blessèd thing,
Jove knows what man thou mightst have made;
but I,
Thou diedst a most rare boy, of melancholy.
(
To Arviragus
) How found you him?
The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Might easiliest harbour in? Thou blessèd thing,
Jove knows what man thou mightst have made;
but I,
Thou diedst a most rare boy, of melancholy.
(
To Arviragus
) How found you him?
ARVIRAGUS
Stark, as you see,
Thus smiling as some fly had tickled slumber,
Not as death’s dart being laughed at; his right cheek
Reposing on a cushion.
Not as death’s dart being laughed at; his right cheek
Reposing on a cushion.
GUIDERIUS
Where?
ARVIRAGUS
O’th’ floor,
His arms thus leagued. I thought he slept, and put
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answered my steps too loud.
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answered my steps too loud.
GUIDERIUS
Why, he but sleeps.
If he be gone he’ll make his grave a bed.
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
(
To Innogen
) And worms will not come to thee.
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
(
To Innogen
) And worms will not come to thee.
ARVIRAGUS (
to Innogen
) With fairest flowers
to Innogen
) With fairest flowers
Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander
Outsweetened not thy breath. The ruddock would
With charitable bill—O bill sore shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a
monument
!—
bring thee all this
,
Yea, and furred moss besides, when flowers are none,
To winter-gown thy corpse.
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander
Outsweetened not thy breath. The ruddock would
With charitable bill—O bill sore shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a
monument
!—
bring thee all this
,
Yea, and furred moss besides, when flowers are none,
To winter-gown thy corpse.
GUIDERIUS
Prithee, have done,
And do not play in wench-like words with that
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt. To th’ grave.
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt. To th’ grave.
ARVIRAGUS
Say, where shall ’s lay him?
GUIDERIUS
By good Euriphile, our mother.
ARVIRAGUS
Be’t SO,
And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th’ ground
As once our mother; use like note and words,
Save that ‘Euriphile’ must be ‘Fidele’.
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th’ ground
As once our mother; use like note and words,
Save that ‘Euriphile’ must be ‘Fidele’.
GUIDERIUS Cadwal,
I cannot sing. I’ll weep, and word it with thee,
For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.
For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.
ARVIRAGUS
We’ll speak it then.
BELARIUS
Great griefs, I see, medicine the less, for Cloten
Is quite forgot. He was a queen’s son, boys,
And though he came our enemy, remember
He was paid for that. Though mean and mighty
rotting
Together have one dust, yet reverence,
That angel of the world, doth make distinction
Of place ’tween high and low. Our foe was princely,
And though you took his life as being our foe,
Yet bury him as a prince.
Is quite forgot. He was a queen’s son, boys,
And though he came our enemy, remember
He was paid for that. Though mean and mighty
rotting
Together have one dust, yet reverence,
That angel of the world, doth make distinction
Of place ’tween high and low. Our foe was princely,
And though you took his life as being our foe,
Yet bury him as a prince.
GUIDERIUS
Pray you, fetch him hither.
Thersites’ body is as good as Ajax’
When neither are alive.
When neither are alive.
ARVIRAGUS (
to Belarius
) If you’ll go fetch him,
to Belarius
) If you’ll go fetch him,
We’ll say our song the whilst.
Exit Belarius
Brother, begin.
GUIDERIUS
Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th’east.
My father hath a reason for’t.
My father hath a reason for’t.
ARVIRAGUS
’Tis true.
GUIDERIUS
Come on, then, and remove him.
ARVIRAGUS
So, begin.
GUIDERIUS
Fear no more the heat o‘th’ sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages.
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta’en thy wages.
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
ARVIRAGUS
Fear no more the frown o’th’ great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke.
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
GUIDERIUS
Fear no more the lightning flash,
ARVIRAGUS Nor th’all-dreaded thunder-stone.
GUIDERIUS
Fear not slander, censure rash.
ARVIRAGUS Thou hast finished joy and moan.
GUIDERIUS
and
ARVIRAGUS
and
ARVIRAGUS
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.
GUIDERIUS
No exorcisor harm thee,
ARVIRAGUS
Nor no witchcraft charm thee.
GUIDERIUS
Ghost unlaid forbear thee.
ARVIRAGUS
Nothing ill come near thee.
GUIDERIUS
and
ARVIRAGUS
and
ARVIRAGUS
Quiet consummation have,
And renowned be thy grave.
Enter Belarius with the body of Cloten in Posthumus’ suit
GUIDERIUS
We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down.
BELARIUS
Here’s a few flowers, but ‘bout midnight more;
The herbs that have on them cold dew o’th’ night
Are strewings fitt‘st for graves upon th’earth’s face.
You were as flowers, now withered; even so
These herblets shall, which we upon you strow.
Come on, away; apart upon our knees
⌈ ⌉
The ground that gave them first has them again.
Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
The herbs that have on them cold dew o’th’ night
Are strewings fitt‘st for graves upon th’earth’s face.
You were as flowers, now withered; even so
These herblets shall, which we upon you strow.
Come on, away; apart upon our knees
⌈ ⌉
The ground that gave them first has them again.
Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
Exeunt Belarius, Arviragus, and Guiderius
INNOGEN
(awakes)
(awakes)
Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way?
I thank you. By yon bush? Pray, how far thither?
‘Od’s pitykins, can it be six mile yet?
I have gone all night. ’Faith, I’ll lie down and sleep.
I thank you. By yon bush? Pray, how far thither?
‘Od’s pitykins, can it be six mile yet?
I have gone all night. ’Faith, I’ll lie down and sleep.
She sees Cloten
But soft, no bedfellow! O gods and goddesses!
These flowers are like the pleasures of the world,
This bloody man the care on’t. I hope I dream,
For so I thought I was a cavekeeper,
And cook to honest creatures. But ‘tis not so.
’Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot of nothing,
Which the brain makes of fumes. Our very eyes
Are sometimes like our judgements, blind. Good faith,
I tremble still with fear; but if there be
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
As a wren’s eye, feared gods, a part of it!
The dream’s here still. Even when I wake it is
Without me as within me; not imagined, felt.
A headless man? The garments of Posthumus?
I know the shape of ’s leg; this is his hand,
His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh,
The brawns of Hercules; but his Jovial face-
Murder in heaven! How? ‘Tis gone. Pisanio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspired with that irregulous devil Cloten,
Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read
Be henceforth treacherous! Damned Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters-damned Pisanio-
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top) O Posthumus, alas,
Where is thy head? Where’s that? Ay me, where’s
that?
Pisanio might have killed thee at the heart
And left thy head on. How should this be? Pisanio?
’Tis he and Cloten. Malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here. O, ‘tis pregnant, pregnant!
The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd’rous to th’ senses? That confirms it home.
This is Pisanio’s deed, and Cloten-O,
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find usl
These flowers are like the pleasures of the world,
This bloody man the care on’t. I hope I dream,
For so I thought I was a cavekeeper,
And cook to honest creatures. But ‘tis not so.
’Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot of nothing,
Which the brain makes of fumes. Our very eyes
Are sometimes like our judgements, blind. Good faith,
I tremble still with fear; but if there be
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
As a wren’s eye, feared gods, a part of it!
The dream’s here still. Even when I wake it is
Without me as within me; not imagined, felt.
A headless man? The garments of Posthumus?
I know the shape of ’s leg; this is his hand,
His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh,
The brawns of Hercules; but his Jovial face-
Murder in heaven! How? ‘Tis gone. Pisanio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspired with that irregulous devil Cloten,
Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read
Be henceforth treacherous! Damned Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters-damned Pisanio-
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top) O Posthumus, alas,
Where is thy head? Where’s that? Ay me, where’s
that?
Pisanio might have killed thee at the heart
And left thy head on. How should this be? Pisanio?
’Tis he and Cloten. Malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here. O, ‘tis pregnant, pregnant!
The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd’rous to th’ senses? That confirms it home.
This is Pisanio’s deed, and Cloten-O,
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find usl
⌈
She smears her face with blood
⌉
O my lord, my lord!
⌈
She faints.
⌉
Enter Lucius, Roman Captains, and a Soothsayer
A ROMAN CAPTAIN (
to Lucius
)
to Lucius
)
To them the legions garrisoned in Gallia
After your will have crossed the sea, attending
You here at Milford Haven with your ships.
They are hence in readiness.
After your will have crossed the sea, attending
You here at Milford Haven with your ships.
They are hence in readiness.
LUCIUS
But what from Rome?
A ROMAN CAPTAIN
The senate hath stirred up the confiners
And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits
That promise noble service, and they come
Under the conduct of bold Giacomo,
Siena’s brother.
And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits
That promise noble service, and they come
Under the conduct of bold Giacomo,
Siena’s brother.
LUCIUS
When expect you them?
A ROMAN CAPTAIN
With the next benefit o’th’ wind.
LUCIUS
This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
Be mustered; bid the captains look to’t.
Be mustered; bid the captains look to’t.
⌈
Exit one or more
⌉
(
To Soothsayer
) Now, sir,
What have you dreamed of late of this war’s purpose?
To Soothsayer
) Now, sir,
What have you dreamed of late of this war’s purpose?
SOOTHSAYER
Last night the very gods showed me a vision—
I fast, and prayed for their intelligence-thus:
I saw Jove’s bird, the Roman eagle, winged
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanished in the sunbeams; which portends,
Unless my sins abuse my divination,
Success to th’ Roman host.
I fast, and prayed for their intelligence-thus:
I saw Jove’s bird, the Roman eagle, winged
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanished in the sunbeams; which portends,
Unless my sins abuse my divination,
Success to th’ Roman host.
LUCIUS
Dream often so,
And never false.
He sees Cloten’s body
Soft, ho, what trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How, a page?
Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead rather,
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let’s see the boy’s face.
Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How, a page?
Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead rather,
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let’s see the boy’s face.
A ROMAN CAPTAIN
He’s alive, my lord.
LUCIUS
He’ll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou mak’st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath altered that good picture? What’s thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came’t? Who is’t?
What art thou?
Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou mak’st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath altered that good picture? What’s thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came’t? Who is’t?
What art thou?
INNOGEN
I am nothing; or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton, and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas,
There is no more such masters. I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good; serve truly, never
Find such another master.
A very valiant Briton, and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas,
There is no more such masters. I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good; serve truly, never
Find such another master.
LUCIUS
’Lack, good youth,
Thou mov’st no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
INNOGEN
Richard du Champ. (
Aside
) If I do lie and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear I hope
They’ll pardon it. (
Aloud
) Say you, sir?
Aside
) If I do lie and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear I hope
They’ll pardon it. (
Aloud
) Say you, sir?
LUCIUS
Thy name?
INNOGEN
Fidele, sir.
LUCIUS
Thou dost approve thyself the very same.
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well mastered, but be sure,
No less beloved. The Roman Emperor’s letters
Sent by a consul to me should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well mastered, but be sure,
No less beloved. The Roman Emperor’s letters
Sent by a consul to me should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.
INNOGEN
I’ll follow, sir. But first, an’t please the gods,
I’ll hide my master from the flies as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
With wild-wood leaves and weeds I ha’ strewed his
grave
And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o’er I’ll weep and sigh,
And leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.
I’ll hide my master from the flies as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
With wild-wood leaves and weeds I ha’ strewed his
grave
And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o’er I’ll weep and sigh,
And leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.
Other books
At His Majesty's Convenience by Jennifer Lewis
The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obreht
Specimen Days by Michael Cunningham
They call her Dana by Wilde, Jennifer
A Shroud for Jesso by Peter Rabe
How to Liv by Megan Keith
Romancing Robin Hood by Jenny Kane
Bear's Claim (Bear Heat Book 3) by Natalie Kristen
The Birth of Blue Satan by Patricia Wynn
The Rabbit Factory by Karp, Marshall
