Cymbeline

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Cymbeline Page 14

by William Shakespeare


  LUCIUS    Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day

  Was yours by accident: had it gone with us88,

  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: sufficeth92

  A Roman with a Roman’s heart can suffer:

  Augustus lives to think on’t94: and so much

  For my peculiar care.95 This one thing only

  I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,

  Let him be ransomed: never master had

  A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,

  So tender over his occasions99, true,

  So feat100, 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,

  And104 spare no blood beside.

  CYMBELINE    I have surely seen him:

  His favour106 is familiar to me. Boy,

  Thou hast looked thyself into my grace107,

  And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,

  To say ‘Live, boy.’ Ne’er thank thy master109: live,

  And ask of Cymbeline what boon110 thou wilt,

  Fitting my bounty and thy state111, 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.

  INNOGEN    No, no, alack,

  There’s other work in hand: I see a thing

  Bitter to me as death: your life, good master,

  Must shuffle120 for itself.

  LUCIUS    The boy disdains me,

  He leaves me, scorns me: briefly122 die their joys

  That place them on the truth123 of girls and boys.

  Innogen looks closely at Iachimo

  Why stands he so perplexed?124

  CYMBELINE    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,

  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 vassal130,

  Am something nearer.131

  CYMBELINE    Wherefore ey’st him so?132

  INNOGEN    I’ll tell you, sir, in private, if you please

  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 converse apart

  BELARIUS    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?

  GUIDERIUS    The same dead thing alive.

  BELARIUS    Peace, peace, see further: he eyes us not, forbear.145

  Creatures may be alike: were’t he, I am sure

  He would have spoke to us.

  GUIDERIUS    But we see him dead.148

  BELARIUS    Be silent: let’s see further.

  Aside

  PISANIO    It is my mistress:

  Since she is living, let the time run on

  To good or bad.

  Cymbeline and Innogen come forward

  CYMBELINE    Come, stand thou by our side,

  To Iachimo

  Make thy demand aloud.— 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

  Winnow158 the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.

  INNOGEN    My boon is that this gentleman may render159

  Points to the ring

  Of whom he had this ring.

  Aside

  POSTHUMUS    What’s that to him?

  To Iachimo

  CYMBELINE    That diamond upon your finger, say,

  How came it yours?

  IACHIMO    Thou’lt torture me164 to leave unspoken that

  Which to be spoke would torture thee.

  CYMBELINE    How? Me?

  IACHIMO    I am glad to be constrained to utter that

  Which 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.173

  IACHIMO    That paragon, thy daughter,

  For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits

  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 will178

  Than die ere179 I hear more: strive, man, and speak.

  IACHIMO    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 viands183 had been poisoned, or at least

  Those which I heaved to head!184 — 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 sadly187,

  Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

  For beauty that made barren189 the swelled boast

  Of him that best could speak: for feature, laming190

  The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva191,

  Postures beyond brief nature: for condition192,

  A shop193 of all the qualities that man

  Loves woman for, besides that hook of wiving194,

  Fairness which strikes the eye—

  CYMBELINE    I stand on fire.196

  Come to the matter.197

  IACHIMO    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 hint201,

  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’t205, either our brags

  Were cracked of kitchen-trulls206, or his description

  Proved us unspeaking sots.207

  CYMBELINE    Nay, nay, to th’purpose.208

  IACHIMO    Your daughter’s chastity — there it begins.

  He spake of her as Dian had hot210 dreams

  And she alone were cold211: whereat I, wretch,

  Made scruple212 of his praise, and wagered with him

  Pieces of gold gainst this, which then he wore

  Upon his honoured finger, to attain

  In suit215 the place of’s bed and win this ring

  By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,

  No lesser of her honour confident

  Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring,

  And would so had it been a carbuncle219

  Of Phoebus’ wheel, and might so220 safely had it

  Been all the worth o
f’s car.221 Away to Britain

  Post222 I in this design: well may you, sir,

  Remember me at court, where I was taught

  Of224 your chaste daughter the wide difference

  ’Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quenched

  Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain

  ’Gan in your duller Britain227 operate

  Most vilely: for my vantage228, excellent.

  And, to be brief, my practice so prevailed

  That I returned with simular230 proof enough

  To make the noble Leonatus mad

  By wounding his belief in her renown232

  With tokens thus, and thus: averring233 notes

  Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet —

  Shows the bracelet

  O, cunning, how I got it! — nay, some marks

  Of secret on her person, that he could not

  But think her bond of chastity quite cracked237,

  I having ta’en the forfeit.238 Whereupon —

  Methinks I see him now—

  Comes forward

  POSTHUMUS    Ay, so thou dost,

  Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,

  Egregious murderer, thief, anything242

  That’s due to all the villains past, in being243,

  To come! O, give me cord244, or knife, or poison,

  Some upright justicer!245 Thou, king, send out

  For torturers ingenious246: it is I

  That all th’abhorrèd things o’th’earth amend247

  By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,

  That killed thy daughter — villain-like, I lie —

  That caused a lesser villain than myself,

  A sacrilegious thief, to do’t. The temple251

  Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.252

  Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set

  The dogs o’th’street to bay254 me: every villain

  Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and

  Be villainy less than ’twas!256 O Innogen!

  My queen, my life, my wife: O Innogen,

  Innogen, Innogen!

  She runs to him?

  INNOGEN    Peace, my lord, hear, hear.

  POSTHUMUS    Shall’s have260 a play of this? Thou scornful page,

  There lie thy part.261

  He strikes her and she falls

  PISANIO    O, gentlemen, help!

  Mine and your mistress: O, my lord Posthumus,

  You ne’er killed Innogen till now. Help, help!

  Mine honoured lady.

  CYMBELINE    Does the world go round?

  POSTHUMUS    How comes these staggers267 on me?

  PISANIO    Wake, my mistress!

  CYMBELINE    If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me

  To death with mortal270 joy.

  PISANIO    How fares my mistress?

  INNOGEN    O, get thee from my sight,

  Thou gavest me poison: dangerous fellow, hence!

  Breathe not where princes are.

  CYMBELINE    The tune275 of Innogen.

  PISANIO    Lady, the gods throw stones of sulphur276 on me if

  That box I gave you was not thought by me

  A precious thing: I had it from the queen.

  CYMBELINE    New matter still.

  INNOGEN    It poisoned me.

  CORNELIUS    O gods!

  I left out one thing which the queen confessed,

  Which must approve283 thee honest. ‘If Pisanio

  Have’, said she, ‘given his mistress that confection284

  Which I gave him for cordial285, she is served

  As I would serve a rat.’

  CYMBELINE    What’s this, Cornelius?

  CORNELIUS    The queen, sir, very oft importuned me

  To temper poisons for her, still pretending289

  The satisfaction of her knowledge only

  In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,

  Of no esteem.292 I, dreading that her purpose

  Was of more danger, did compound for her

  A certain stuff which, being ta’en, would cease294

  The present power of life, but in short time

  All offices of nature296 should again

  Do their due functions. Have you ta’en of it?

  INNOGEN    Most like298 I did, for I was dead.

  BELARIUS    My boys,

  There was our error.

  GUIDERIUS    This is sure301 Fidele.

  INNOGEN    Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?

  Think that you are upon a rock, and now

  Embraces him

  Throw me again.

  POSTHUMUS    Hang there like fruit, my soul,

  Till the tree306 die.

  CYMBELINE    How now, my flesh, my child?

  What, mak’st thou me a dullard in this act?308

  Wilt thou not speak to me?

  Kneels

  INNOGEN    Your blessing, sir.

  To Guiderius and Arviragus

  BELARIUS    Though you did love this youth, I blame ye not.

  You had a motive312 for’t.

  CYMBELINE    My tears that fall

  Prove holy water on thee! Innogen,

  Thy mother’s315 dead.

  INNOGEN    I am sorry for’t, my lord.

  CYMBELINE    O, she was naught, and long of317 her it was

  That we meet here so strangely318: but her son

  Is gone, we know not how nor where.

  PISANIO    My lord,

  Now fear is from me, I’ll speak troth. Lord Cloten,

  Upon my lady’s missing322, came to me

  With his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and swore,

  If I discovered324 not which way she was gone,

  It was my instant death. By accident325,

  I had a feignèd letter326 of my master’s

  Then in my pocket, which directed him

  To seek her on the mountains near to Milford,

  Where in a frenzy, in my master’s garments,

  Which he enforced from me, away he posts330

  With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate

  My lady’s honour. What became of him

  I further know not.

  GUIDERIUS    Let me end the story:

  I slew him there.

  CYMBELINE    Marry, the gods forfend!336

  I would not thy good deeds should from my lips

  Pluck a hard sentence: prithee, valiant youth,

  Deny’t again.339

  GUIDERIUS    I have spoke it, and I did it.

  CYMBELINE    He was a prince.341

  GUIDERIUS    A most incivil342 one. The wrongs he did me

  Were nothing prince-like, for he did provoke me

  With language that would make me spurn the sea,

  If it could so roar to me. I cut off’s head,

  And am right glad he is not standing here

  To tell this tale of mine.347

  CYMBELINE    I am sorrow348 for thee:

  By thine own tongue thou art condemned, and must

  Endure our law: thou’rt dead.350

  INNOGEN    That headless man

  I thought had been my lord.

  CYMBELINE    Bind the offender,

  And take him from our presence.

  BELARIUS    Stay, sir king.

  This man is better than the man he slew,

  As well descended357 as thyself, and hath

  More of thee merited358 than a band of Clotens

  To the Guard

  Had ever scar for.359— Let his arms alone,

  They were not born for bondage.

  CYMBELINE    Why, old soldier,

  Wilt thou undo
the worth thou art unpaid for362

  By tasting of363 our wrath? How of descent

  As good as we?

  ARVIRAGUS    In that he spake too far.

  CYMBELINE    And thou366 shalt die for’t.

  BELARIUS    We will die all three,

  But I will prove that two on’s368 are as good

  As I have given out him.369 My sons, I must

  For mine own part unfold a dangerous speech370,

  Though haply well for371 you.

  ARVIRAGUS    Your danger’s ours.

  GUIDERIUS    And our good his.

  BELARIUS    Have at it then, by leave.374

  Thou hadst, great king, a subject who

  Was called Belarius.

  CYMBELINE    What of him? He is

  A banished traitor.

  BELARIUS    He it is that hath

  Assumed this age380: indeed, a banished man,

  I know not how a traitor.

  CYMBELINE    Take him hence,

  The whole world shall not save him.

  BELARIUS    Not too hot384:

  First pay me for the nursing of thy sons,

  And let it be confiscate all so386 soon

  As I have received it.

  CYMBELINE    Nursing of my sons?

  Kneels

  BELARIUS    I am too blunt and saucy389, here’s my knee:

  Ere I arise I will prefer390 my sons,

  Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,

  These two young gentlemen that call me father,

  And think they are my sons, are none of mine.

  They are the issue of your loins, my liege,

  And blood395 of your begetting.

  CYMBELINE    How, my issue?

  BELARIUS    So sure as you your father’s. I, old Morgan,

  Am that Belarius whom you sometime398 banished:

  Your pleasure was my mere399 offence, my punishment

  Itself, and all my treason. That I suffered400

  Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes —

  For such and so they are — these twenty years

  Have I trained up: those arts they have as I

  Could put into404 them. My breeding was, sir,

  As your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,

  Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children

  Upon my banishment: I moved407 her to’t,

  Having received the punishment before408

  For that which I did then. Beaten409 for loyalty

  Excited410 me to treason. Their dear loss,

  The more of you ’twas felt, the more it shaped411

  Unto my end of412 stealing them. But, gracious sir,

 

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