Enter Belarius ⌜as Morgan,⌝ Guiderius ⌜as Polydor,⌝
Arviragus ⌜as Cadwal,⌝ and Imogen ⌜as Fidele,⌝ from the
cave.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan, to Fidele⌝ You are not well. Remain here in the cave. We’ll come to you after hunting.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal, to Fidele⌝ Brother, stay here. Are we not brothers?IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ 5 So man and man should be, But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor, to Morgan and Cadwal⌝ Go you to hunting. I’ll abide with him.IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ So sick I am not, yet I am not well;10 But not so citizen a wanton as To seem to die ere sick. So please you, leave me. Stick to your journal course. The breach of custom Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort15 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, ⌜as Polydor⌝ I love thee—I have spoke it—20 How much the quantity, the weight as much As I do love my father.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ What? How, how?
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ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me In my good brother’s fault. I know not why25 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!30 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.—35 ’Tis the ninth hour o’ th’ morn.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal, to Fidele⌝ Brother, farewell.IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ I wish you sport.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ You health.—So please you, sir.IMOGEN, ⌜aside⌝ These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have heard!40 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,45 I’ll now taste of thy drug.⌜She swallows the drug.⌝GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor, to Morgan and Cadwal⌝ I could not stir him. He said he was gentle but unfortunate, Dishonestly afflicted but yet honest.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Thus did he answer me, yet said hereafter50 I might know more.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ To th’ field, to th’ field!
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⌜To Fidele.⌝ We’ll leave you for this time. Go in and rest.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ We’ll not be long away.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 55 Pray, be not sick, For you must be our huswife.IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ Well or ill, I am bound to you.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ And shalt be ever.⌜Imogen⌝ exits ⌜as into the cave.⌝60 This youth, howe’er distressed, appears he hath had Good ancestors.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ How angel-like he sings!GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters And sauced our broths as Juno had been sick65 And he her dieter.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 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 fly70 From so divine a temple to commix With winds that sailors rail at.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ I do note That grief and patience, rooted in them both, Mingle their spurs together.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 75 Grow, ⌜patience,⌝ And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine His perishing root with the increasing vine!BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ It is great morning. Come, away. Who’s there?Enter Cloten.CLOTEN, ⌜to himself⌝ I cannot find those runagates. That villain80 Hath mocked me. I am faint.
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BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan, to Polydor and Cadwal⌝ “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 yet85 I know ’tis he. We are held as outlaws. Hence.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ He is but one. You and my brother search What companies are near. Pray you, away. Let me alone with him.⌜Belarius and Arviragus exit.⌝CLOTEN Soft, what are you90 That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers? I have heard of such.—What slave art thou?GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ A thing More slavish did I ne’er than answering A slave without a knock.CLOTEN 95 Thou art a robber, A lawbreaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 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 not100 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, ⌜as Polydor⌝ No, nor thy tailor,105 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, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 110 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.
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GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 115 What’s thy name?CLOTEN Cloten, thou villain.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, I cannot tremble at it. Were it Toad, or Adder, Spider, ’Twould move me sooner.CLOTEN 120 To thy further fear, Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know I am son to th’ Queen.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ I am sorry for ’t, not seeming So worthy as thy birth.CLOTEN 125 Art not afeard?GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 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,130 I’ll follow those that even now fled hence And on the gates of Lud’s Town set your heads. Yield, rustic mountaineer!They fight and exit.Enter Belarius ⌜as Morgan⌝ and Arviragus ⌜as
Cadwal.⌝BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ No company’s abroad?ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ None in the world. You did mistake him sure.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 135 I cannot tell. Long is it since I saw him, But time hath nothing blurred those lines of favor Which then he wore. The snatches in his voice And burst of speaking were as his. I am absolute ’Twas very Cloten.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 140 In this place we left them. I wish my brother make good time with him, You say he is so fell.
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BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ Being scarce made up, I mean to man, he had not apprehension145 Of roaring terrors; for defect of judgment Is oft the cause of fear.Enter Guiderius ⌜as Polydor, carrying Cloten’s head.⌝ But see, thy brother.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse; There was no money in ’t. Not Hercules150 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, ⌜as Morgan⌝ What hast thou done?GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten’s head,155 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, ⌜thank⌝ the gods, they grow,160 And set them on Lud’s Town.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ We are all undone.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 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 tender165 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, ⌜as Morgan⌝ No single soul170 Can we set eye on, but in all safe reason He must have some attendants. Though his ⌜humor⌝ Was nothing but mutation—ay, and that From one bad thing to worse—not frenzy,
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Not absolute madness could so far have raved175 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—180 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 tail185 More perilous than the head.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Let ord’nance Come as the gods foresay it. Howsoe’er, My brother hath done well.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ I had no mind190 To hunt this day. The boy Fidele’s sickness Did make my way long forth.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 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 creek195 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.He exits.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ I fear ’twill be revenged. Would, Polydor, thou hadst not done ’t, though valor200 Becomes thee well enough.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Would I had done ’t, So the revenge alone pursued me. Polydor, I love thee brotherly, but envy much Thou hast robbed me of this deed. I would revenges205 That possible strength might meet would seek us through And put us to our answer.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ Well, ’tis done. We’ll hunt no more today, nor seek for danger
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210 Where there’s no profit. I prithee, to our rock. You and Fidele play the cooks. I’ll stay Till hasty Polydor return, and bring him To dinner presently.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Poor sick Fidele.215 I’ll willingly to him. To gain his color I’d let a parish of such Clotens blood, And praise myself for charity.He exits.BELARIUS O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature, thou thyself thou blazon’st220 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 pine225 And make him stoop to th’ vale. ’Tis wonder That an invisible instinct should frame them To royalty unlearned, honor untaught, Civility not seen from other, valor That wildly grows in them but yields a crop230 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 ⌜as Polydor.⌝GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Where’s my brother? I have sent Cloten’s clotpole down the stream235 In embassy to his mother. His body’s hostage For his return.Solemn music.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ My ⌜ingenious⌝ instrument! Hark, Polydor, it sounds! But what occasion Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 240 Is he at home?BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ He went hence even now.
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GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ What does he mean? Since death of my dear’st mother It did not speak before. All solemn things245 Should answer solemn accidents. The matter? Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys Is jollity for apes and grief for boys. Is Cadwal mad?Enter Arviragus ⌜as Cadwal,⌝ with Imogen ⌜as⌝ dead,
bearing her in his arms.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ Look, here he comes,250 And brings the dire occasion in his arms Of what we blame him for.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ The bird is dead That we have made so much on. I had rather Have skipped from sixteen years of age to sixty,255 To have turned my leaping time into a crutch, Than have seen this.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ O sweetest, fairest lily! My brother wears thee not the one half so well As when thou grew’st thyself.BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 260 O melancholy, Whoever yet could sound thy bottom, find The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish ⌜crare⌝ ⌜Might⌝ eas’liest harbor in?—Thou blessèd thing, Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,265 Thou died’st, a most rare boy, of melancholy.— How found you him?ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Stark, as you see; Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, Not as Death’s dart being laughed at; his right cheek270 Reposing on a cushion.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Where?ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ O’ th’ floor, His arms thus leagued. I thought he slept, and put
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My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness275 Answered my steps too loud.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Why, he but sleeps. If he be gone, he’ll make his grave a bed; With female fairies will his tomb be haunted— And worms will not come to thee.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 280 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, nor285 The leaf of eglantine whom, not to slander, Out-sweetened 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,290 Yea, and furred moss besides, when flowers are none To winter-ground thy corse.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Prithee, have done, And do not play in wench-like words with that Which is so serious. Let us bury him295 And not protract with admiration what Is now due debt. To th’ grave.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Say, where shall ’s lay him?GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ By good Euriphile, our mother.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 300 Be ’t so. And let us, Polydor, though now our voices Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th’ ground As once to our mother; use like note and words, Save that “Euriphile” must be “Fidele.”GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 305Cadwal, 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, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ We’ll speak it then.
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BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 310 Great griefs, I see, med’cine 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,315 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, ⌜as Polydor, to Morgan⌝ Pray you fetch him320 hither. Thersites’ body is as good as Ajax’ When neither are alive.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal, to Morgan⌝ If you’ll go fetch him,325 We’ll say our song the whilst.—Brother, begin.⌜Belarius exits.⌝GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th’ east; My father hath a reason for ’t.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ ’Tis true.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Come on then, and remove him.⌜They move Imogen’s body.⌝ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 330 So, begin.
Song.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 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.
335 Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Fear no more the frown o’ th’ great;
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke.
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Care no more to clothe and eat;
340 To thee the reed is as the oak.
The scepter, learning, physic must
All follow this and come to dust.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Fear no more the lightning flash.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Nor th’ all-dreaded thunderstone.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 345 Fear not slander, censure rash;ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Thou hast finished joy and moan.BOTH All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ No exorciser harm thee,ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 350 Nor no witchcraft charm thee.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ Ghost unlaid forbear thee.ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ Nothing ill come near thee.BOTH Quiet consummation have,
And renownèd be thy grave.Enter Belarius ⌜as Morgan,⌝ with the body of Cloten.GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 355 We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down.⌜Cloten’s body is placed by Imogen’s.⌝BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 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 their faces.— You were as flowers, now withered. Even so
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360 These herblets shall, which we upon you strew.— 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.They exit.Imogen awakes.⌜IMOGEN⌝ Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way?365 I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither? Ods pittikins, can it be six mile yet? I have gone all night. Faith, I’ll lie down and sleep.⌜She sees Cloten’s headless body.⌝ But soft! No bedfellow? O gods and goddesses! These flowers are like the pleasures of the world,370 This bloody man the care on ’t. I hope I dream, For so I thought I was a cave-keeper And cook to honest creatures. But ’tis not so. ’Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, Which the brain makes of fumes. Our very eyes375 Are sometimes like our judgments, 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 is380 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—385 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
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390 Be henceforth treacherous. Damned Pisanio Hath with his forgèd letters—damned Pisanio— From this most bravest vessel of the world Struck the maintop. O Posthumus, alas, Where is thy head? Where’s that? Ay me, where’s that?395 Pisanio might have killed thee at the heart And left this 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 precious400 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 color to my pale cheek with thy blood, That we the horrider may seem to those405 Which chance to find us. O my lord! My lord!Enter Lucius, Captains, ⌜Soldiers,⌝ and a Soothsayer.CAPTAIN 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 here in readiness.LUCIUS 410 But what from Rome?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 Iachimo,415 Siena’s brother.LUCIUS When expect you them?CAPTAIN With the next benefit o’ th’ wind.LUCIUS This forwardness Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
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420 Be mustered; bid the Captains look to ’t.—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, winged425 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,430 And never false.—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 bed435 With the defunct or sleep upon the dead. Let’s see the boy’s face.CAPTAIN He’s alive, my lord.LUCIUS He’ll then instruct us of this body.—Young one, Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems440 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 wrack? How came ’t? Who is ’t?445 What art thou?IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ 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,450 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.
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LUCIUS ’Lack, good youth,455 Thou mov’st no less with thy complaining than Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ Richard du Champ. ⌜Aside.⌝ If I do lie and do No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope They’ll pardon it.—Say you, sir?LUCIUS 460 Thy name?IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ 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 say465 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.IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ I’ll follow, sir. But first, an ’t please the gods,470 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,475 Such as I can, twice o’er, I’ll weep and sigh, And leaving so his service, follow you, So please you entertain me.LUCIUS Ay, good youth, And rather father thee than master thee.—My friends,480 The boy hath taught us manly duties. Let us Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can, And make him with our pikes and partisans A grave. Come, arm him.—Boy, he’s preferred By thee to us, and he shall be interred485 As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes. Some falls are means the happier to arise.They exit, ⌜the Soldiers carrying Cloten’s body.⌝
