William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (553 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
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POSTHUMUS I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going but such as wink and will not use them.
JAILER What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging’s the way of winking.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER Knock off his manacles, bring your prisoner to the King.
POSTHUMUS Thou bring’st good news, I am called to be made free.
JAILER I’ll be hanged then.
POSTHUMUS Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer; no bolts for the dead.
JAILER (
aside
) Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman; and there be some of them, too, that die against their wills; so should I if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good. O, there were desolation of jailers and gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in’t.
Exeunt
5.6aside
) Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman; and there be some of them, too, that die against their wills; so should I if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good. O, there were desolation of jailers and gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in’t.
Exeunt
⌈
Flourish.
⌉
Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, Pisanio, and lords
CYMBELINE (
to Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus
)
to Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus
)
Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast
Stepped before targs of proof, cannot be found.
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast
Stepped before targs of proof, cannot be found.
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.
BELARIUS
I never saw
Such noble fury in so poor a thing,
Such precious deeds in one that promised naught
But beggary and poor looks.
Such precious deeds in one that promised naught
But beggary and poor looks.
CYMBELINE
No tidings of him?
PISANIO
He hath been searched among the dead and living,
But no trace of him.
But no trace of him.
CYMBELINE
To my grief I am
The heir of his reward, which I will add
(
To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus
)
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
By whom I grant she lives. ’Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are. Report it.
(
To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus
)
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
By whom I grant she lives. ’Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are. Report it.
BELARIUS
Sir,
In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen.
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add we are honest.
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add we are honest.
CYMBELINE
Bow your knees.
They kneel. He knights them
Arise, my knights o’th’ battle. I create you
Companions to our person, and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.
Companions to our person, and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.
Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus rise.
Enter Cornelius and Ladies
There’s business in these faces. Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,
And not o’th’ court of Britain.
Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,
And not o’th’ court of Britain.
CORNELIUS
Hail, great King!
To sour your happiness I must report
The Queen is dead.
The Queen is dead.
CYMBELINE
Who worse than a physician
Would this report become? But I consider
By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
CORNELIUS
With horror, madly dying, like her life,
Which being cruel to the world, concluded
Most cruel to herself. What she confessed
I will report, so please you. These her women
Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks
Were present when she finished.
Which being cruel to the world, concluded
Most cruel to herself. What she confessed
I will report, so please you. These her women
Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks
Were present when she finished.
CYMBELINE Prithee, say.
CORNELIUS
First, she confessed she never loved you, only
Affected greatness got by you, not you;
Married your royalty, was wife to your place,
Abhorred your person.
Affected greatness got by you, not you;
Married your royalty, was wife to your place,
Abhorred your person.
CYMBELINE
She alone knew this,
And but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
CORNELIUS
Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight, whose life,
But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta’en off by poison.
With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight, whose life,
But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta’en off by poison.
CYMBELINE
O most delicate fiend!
Who is’t can read a woman? Is there more?
CORNELIUS
More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
For you a mortal mineral which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling‘ring,
By inches waste you. In which time she purposed
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O’ercome you with her show; and in fine,
When she had fit you with her craft, to work
Her son into th’adoption of the crown;
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperate, opened in despite
Of heaven and men her purposes, repented
The evils she hatched were not effected; so
Despairing died.
For you a mortal mineral which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling‘ring,
By inches waste you. In which time she purposed
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O’ercome you with her show; and in fine,
When she had fit you with her craft, to work
Her son into th’adoption of the crown;
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperate, opened in despite
Of heaven and men her purposes, repented
The evils she hatched were not effected; so
Despairing died.
CYMBELINE
Heard you all this, her women?
⌈LADIES⌉
We did, so please your highness.
CYMBELINE
Mine eyes
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears that heard her flattery, nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious
To have mistrusted her. Yet, O my daughter,
That it was folly in me thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
Mine ears that heard her flattery, nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious
To have mistrusted her. Yet, O my daughter,
That it was folly in me thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
Enter Lucius, Giacomo, Soothsayer, and other Roman prisoners, Posthumus behind, and Innogen dressed as a man, all guarded by Briton soldiers
Thou com’st not, Caius, now for tribute. That
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
Of you, their captives, which ourself have granted.
So think of your estate.
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
Of you, their captives, which ourself have granted.
So think of your estate.
LUCIUS
Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day
Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have
threatened
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be called ransom, let it come. Sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman’s heart can suffer.
Augustus lives to think on’t; and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat:
Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have
threatened
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be called ransom, let it come. Sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman’s heart can suffer.
Augustus lives to think on’t; and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat:
He presents Innogen to Cymbeline
my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransomed. Never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like; let his virtue join
With my request, which I’ll make bold your highness
Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like; let his virtue join
With my request, which I’ll make bold your highness
Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
CYMBELINE
I have surely seen him.
His favour is familiar to me. Boy,
Thou hast looked thyself into my grace,
And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,
To say ‘Live, boy’. Ne‘er thank thy master. Live,
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I’ll give it,
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner
The noblest ta’en.
Thou hast looked thyself into my grace,
And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,
To say ‘Live, boy’. Ne‘er thank thy master. Live,
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I’ll give it,
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner
The noblest ta’en.
INNOGEN
I humbly thank your highness.
LUCIUS
I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,
And yet I know thou wilt.
And yet I know thou wilt.
INNOGEN
No, no. Alack,
There’s other work in hand. I see a thing
Bitter to me as death. Your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself.
Bitter to me as death. Your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself.
LUCIUS
The boy disdains me.
He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplexed?
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplexed?
CYMBELINE (
to Innogen
) What wouldst thou, boy?
to Innogen
) What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What’s best to ask. Know‘st him thou look’st on?
Speak, no
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin, thy friend?
What’s best to ask. Know‘st him thou look’st on?
Speak, no
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin, thy friend?
INNOGEN
He is a Roman, no more kin to me
Than I to your highness, who, being born your vassal,
Am something nearer.
Than I to your highness, who, being born your vassal,
Am something nearer.
CYMBELINE
Wherefore ey’st him so?
INNOGEN
I’ll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
To give me hearing.
CYMBELINE
Ay, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What’s thy name?
INNOGEN
Fidele, sir.
CYMBELINE Thou’rt my good youth, my page.
I’ll be thy master. Walk with me, speak freely.
Cymbeline and Innogen speak apart
BELARIUS (
aside to Guiderius and Arviragus
)
aside to Guiderius and Arviragus
)
Is not this boy revived from death?
ARVIRAGUS
One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
GUIDERIUS The same dead thing alive.
BELARIUS
Peace, peace, see further. He eyes us not. Forbear.
Creatures may be alike. Were’t he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
Creatures may be alike. Were’t he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
GUIDERIUS
But we see him dead.
BELARIUS
Be silent; let’s see further.
PISANIO (
aside
)
aside
)
It is my mistress.
Since she is living, let the time run on
To good or bad.
To good or bad.
CYMBELINE (
to Innogen
) Come, stand thou by our side,
to Innogen
) Come, stand thou by our side,
Make thy demand aloud. (
To Giacomo
) Sir, step you
forth.
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood.
(
To Innogen
)
To Giacomo
) Sir, step you
forth.
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood.
(
To Innogen
)
On, speak to him.
INNOGEN
My boon is that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.
Of whom he had this ring.
POSTHUMUS (
aside
) What’s that to him?
aside
) What’s that to him?
CYMBELINE (
to Giacomo
)
to Giacomo
)
That diamond upon your finger, say,
How came it yours?
How came it yours?
GIACOMO
Thou’lt torture me to leave unspoken that
Which to be spoke would torture thee.
Which to be spoke would torture thee.
CYMBELINE
How, me?
GIACOMO
I am glad to be constrained to utter that
Torments me to conceal. By villainy
I got this ring; ‘twas Leonatus’ jewel,
Whom thou didst banish; and, which more may
grieve thee,
As it doth me, a nobler sir ne’er lived
’Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
Torments me to conceal. By villainy
I got this ring; ‘twas Leonatus’ jewel,
Whom thou didst banish; and, which more may
grieve thee,
As it doth me, a nobler sir ne’er lived
’Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
CYMBELINE
All that belongs to this.
GIACOMO That paragon thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits
Quail to remember-give me leave, I faint.
Quail to remember-give me leave, I faint.
CYMBELINE
My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength.
I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
GIACOMO
Upon a time-unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour-it was in Rome-accursed
The mansion where-‘twas at a feast-O, would
Our viands had been poisoned, or at least
Those which I heaved to head!—the good Posthumus—
What should I say?—he was too good to be
Where ill men were, and was the best of all
Amongst the rar’st of good ones-sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swelled boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature laming
The shrine of Venus or straight-pitched Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye—
That struck the hour-it was in Rome-accursed
The mansion where-‘twas at a feast-O, would
Our viands had been poisoned, or at least
Those which I heaved to head!—the good Posthumus—
What should I say?—he was too good to be
Where ill men were, and was the best of all
Amongst the rar’st of good ones-sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swelled boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature laming
The shrine of Venus or straight-pitched Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye—
CYMBELINE
I stand on fire.
Come to the matter.
GIACOMO
All too soon I shall,
Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
Most like a noble lord in love and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint,
And not dispraising whom we praised—therein
He was as calm as virtue-he began
His mistress’ picture, which by his tongue being made,
And then a mind put in’t, either our brags
Were cracked of kitchen-trulls, or his description
Proved us unspeaking sots.
Most like a noble lord in love and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint,
And not dispraising whom we praised—therein
He was as calm as virtue-he began
His mistress’ picture, which by his tongue being made,
And then a mind put in’t, either our brags
Were cracked of kitchen-trulls, or his description
Proved us unspeaking sots.
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