The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 388

by William Shakespeare


  Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort

  To one not sociable. I am not very sick,

  Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here.

  I’ll rob none but myself; and let me die,

  Stealing so poorly.

  GUIDERIUS

  I love thee: I have spoke it;

  How much the quantity, the weight as much,

  As I do love my father.

  BELARIUS

  What, how, how?

  ARVIRAGUS

  If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me

  In my good brother’s fault. I know not why

  I love this youth, and I have heard you say

  Love’s reason’s without reason. The bier at door

  And a demand who is’t shall die, I’d say

  ‘My father, not this youth’.

  BELARIUS (aside)

  O noble strain!

  O worthiness of nature, breed of greatness!

  Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base.

  Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.

  I’m not their father, yet who this should be

  Doth miracle itself, loved before me.

  (Aloud) ‘Tis the ninth hour o’th’ morn.

  ARVIRAGUS (to Innogen)

  Brother, farewell.

  INNOGEN

  I wish ye sport.

  ARVIRAGUS

  You health.—So please you, sir.

  INNOGEN (aside)

  These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have heard!

  Our courtiers say all’s savage but at court.

  Experience, O thou disprov‘st report!

  Th’imperious seas breeds monsters; for the dish

  Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.

  I am sick still, heart-sick. Pisanio,

  I’ll now taste of thy drug.

  ⌈She swallows the drug.⌉ The men speak apart

  GUIDERIUS

  I could not stir him.

  He said he was gentle but unfortunate,

  Dishonestly afflicted but yet honest.

  ARVIRAGUS

  Thus did he answer me, yet said hereafter

  I might know more.

  BELARIUS

  To th’ field, to th’ field!

  (To Innogen) We’ll leave you for this time. Go in and rest.

  ARVIRAGUS (to Innogen)

  We’ll not be long away.

  BELARIUS (to Innogen)

  Pray be not sick,

  For you must be our housewife.

  INNOGEN Well or ill,

  I am bound to you.

  Exit

  BELARIUS And shalt be ever.

  This youth, howe’er distressed, appears hath had

  Good ancestors.

  ARVIRAGUS How angel-like he sings!

  GUIDERIUS But his neat cookery!

  ⌈BELARIUS⌉

  He cut our roots in characters,

  And sauced our broths as Juno had been sick

  And he her dieter.

  ARVIRAGUS

  Nobly he yokes

  A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh

  Was that it was for not being such a smile;

  The smile mocking the sigh that it would fly

  From so divine a temple to commix

  With winds that sailors rail at.

  GUIDERIUS

  I do note

  That grief and patience, rooted in him both,

  Mingle their spurs together.

  ARVIRAGUS

  Grow patience,

  And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine

  His perishing root with the increasing vine.

  RELARIUS

  It is great morning. Come away. Who’s there?

  Enter Cloten in Posthumus’ suit

  CLOTEN

  I cannot find those runagates. That villain

  Hath mocked me. I am faint.

  BELARIUS (aside to Arviragus and Guiderius)

  ‘Those runagates’?

  Means he not us? I partly know him; ‘tis

  Cloten, the son o’th’ Queen. I fear some ambush.

  I saw him not these many years, and yet

  I know ’tis he. We are held as outlaws. Hence!

  GUIDERIUS (aside to Arviragus and Belarius)

  He is but one. You and my brother search

  What companies are near. Pray you, away.

  Let me alone with him.

  Exeunt Arviragus and Belarius

  CLOTEN

  Soft, what are you

  That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers?

  I have heard of such. What slave art thou?

  GUIDERIUS A thing

  More slavish did I ne’er than answering

  A slave without a knock.

  CLOTEN Thou art a robber,

  A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief.

  GUIDERIUS

  To who? To thee? What art thou? Have not I

  An arm as big as thine, a heart as big?

  Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not

  My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art,

  Why I should yield to thee.

  CLOTEN

  Thou villain base,

  Know’st me not by my clothes?

  GUIDERIUS

  No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

  Who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes,

  Which, as it seems, make thee.

  CLOTEN

  Thou precious varlet,

  My tailor made them not.

  GUIDERIUS

  Hence, then, and thank

  The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool.

  I am loath to beat thee.

  CLOTEN

  Thou injurious thief,

  Hear but my name and tremble.

  GUlDERIUS

  What’s thy name?

  CLOTEN Cloten, thou villain.

  GUIDERIUS

  Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,

  I cannot tremble at it. Were it toad or adder, spider,

  ’Twould move me sooner.

  CLOTEN

  To thy further fear,

  Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know

  I am son to th’ Queen.

  GUIDERIUS

  I am sorry for’t, not seeming

  So worthy as thy birth.

  CLOTEN

  Art not afeard?

  GUIDERIUS

  Those that I reverence, those I fear, the wise.

  At fools I laugh, not fear them.

  CLOTEN Die the death.

  When I have slain thee with my proper hand

  I’ll follow those that even now fled hence,

  And on the gates of Lud’s town set your heads.

  Yield, rustic mountaineer.

  Fight and exeunt

  Enter Belarius and Arviragus

  BELARIUS

  No company’s abroad?

  ARVIRAGUS

  None in the world. You did mistake him, sure.

  BELARIUS

  I cannot tell. Long is it since I saw him,

  But time hath nothing blurred those lines of favour

  Which then he wore. The snatches in his voice

  And burst of speaking were as his. I am absolute

  ’Twas very Cloten.

  ARVIRAGUS

  In this place we left them.

  I wish my brother make good time with him,

  You say he is so fell.

  BELARIUS

  Being scarce made up,

  I mean to man, he had not apprehension

  Of roaring terrors; for defect of judgement

  Is oft the cause of fear.

  Enter Guiderius with Cloten’s head

  But see, thy brother.

  GUIDERIUS

  This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse,

  There was no money in’t. Not Hercules

  Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none.

  Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne


  My head as I do his.

  BELARIUS

  What hast thou done?

  GUIDERIUS

  I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten’s head,

  Son to the Queen after his own report,

  Who called me traitor, mountaineer, and swore

  With his own single hand he’d take us in,

  Displace our heads where—thanks, ye gods—they

  grow,

  And set them on Lud’s town.

  BELARIUS

  We are all undone.

  GUIDERIUS

  Why, worthy father, what have we to lose

  But that he swore to take, our lives? The law

  Protects not us: then why should we be tender

  To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us,

  Play judge and executioner all himself,

  For we do fear the law? What company

  Discover you abroad?

  BELARIUS

  No single soul

  Can we set eye on, but in all safe reason

  He must have some attendants. Though his humour

  Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that

  From one bad thing to worse, not frenzy,

  Not absolute madness, could so far have raved

  To bring him here alone. Although perhaps

  It may be heard at court that such as we

  Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time

  May make some stronger head, the which he

  hearing—

  As it is like him—might break out, and swear

  He’d fetch us in, yet is’t not probable

  To come alone, either he so undertaking,

  Or they so suffering. Then on good ground we fear

  If we do fear this body hath a tail

  More perilous than the head.

  ARVIRAGUS

  Let ord’nance

  Come as the gods foresay it; howsoe’er,

  My brother hath done well.

  BELARIUS

  I had no mind

  To hunt this day. The boy Fidele’s sickness

  Did make my way long forth.

  GUIDERlUS

  With his own sword,

  Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta’en

  His head from him. I’ll throw’t into the creek

  Behind our rock, and let it to the sea

  And tell the fishes he’s the Queen’s son, Cloten.

  That’s all I reck.

  Exit with Cloten’s head

  BELARIUS

  I fear ’twill be revenged.

  Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done’t, though

  valour

  Becomes thee well enough.

  ARVIRAGUS

  Would I had done’t,

  So the revenge alone pursued me. Polydore,

  I love thee brotherly, but envy much

  Thou hast robbed me of this deed. I would revenges

  That possible strength might meet would seek us

  through

  And put us to our answer.

  BELARIUS

  Well, ’tis done.

  We’ll hunt no more today, nor seek for danger

  Where there’s no profit. I prithee, to our rock.

  You and Fidele play the cooks. I’ll stay

  Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him

  To dinner presently.

  ARVIRAGUS

  Poor sick Fidele!

  I’ll willingly to him. To gain his colour

  I’d let a parish of such Clotens blood,

  And praise myself for charity.

  Exit into the cave

  BELARIUS

  O thou goddess,

  Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon‘st

  In these two princely boys! They are as gentle

  As zephyrs blowing below the violet,

  Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough,

  Their royal blood enchafed, as the rud’st wind

  That by the top doth take the mountain pine

  And make him stoop to th’ vale. ’Tis wonder

  That an invisible instinct should frame them

  To royalty unlearned, honour untaught,

  Civility not seen from other, valour

  That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop

  As if it had been sowed. Yet still it’s strange

  What Cloten’s being here to us portends,

  Or what his death will bring us.

  Enter Guiderius

  GUIDERIUS

  Where’s my brother?

  I have sent Cloten’s clotpoll down the stream

  In embassy to his mother. His body’s hostage

  For his return.

  Solemn music

  BELARIUS

  My ingenious instrument!—

  Hark, Polydore, it sounds. But what occasion

  Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!

  GUIDERIUS

  Is he at home?

  BELARIUS

  He went hence even now.

  GUIDERIUS

  What does he mean? Since death of my dear’st mother

  It did not speak before. All solemn things

  Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?

  Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys

  Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.

  Is Cadwal mad?

  Enter from the cave Arviragus with Innogen, dead, bearing her in his arms

  BELARIUS

  Look, here he comes,

  And brings the dire occasion in his arms

  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.

  GUIDERIUS (to Innogen) O sweetest, fairest lily!

  My brother wears thee not one half so well

  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?

  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.

  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.

  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.

  ARVIRAGUS (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.

  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.

  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’.

  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.

  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.

  GUIDERIUS

  Pray you, fetch him hither.

  Thersites’ body is as good as Ajax’

  When neither are alive.

  ARVIRAGUS (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.

  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

  All lovers young, all lovers must

  Consign to thee and come to dust.

 

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