Soldier. They march over, and go out. Alarums. Then enter again in skirmish, IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS; he vanquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO, and then leaves him. Iach. The heaviness and guilt within bosom As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. The battle continues; the Britons fly; CYMBELINE is taken; then enter, to his rescue, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the ground; The lane is guarded: nothing routs us but Post. Close by the battle, ditched, and walled with turf; Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,— He, with two striplings (lads more like to run Or we are Romans, and will give you that save, But to look back in frown. Stand, stand!"-These three, Three thousand confident, in act as many (For three performers are the file when all The rest do nothing), with this word, "Stand, stand!" Accommodated by the place, more charming With their own nobleness (which could have turned A distaff to a lance), gilded pale looks, The strides they victors made. And now our cowards (Like fragments in hard voyages) became The life o' the need: having found the back-door open Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they wound! Some, slain before; some, dying; some, their friends O'er-borne i' the former wave: ten, chaced by one, Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: 'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we That draw his knives i' the war.-Well, I will find him : For being now a favourer to the Roman, Here made by the Romans; great the answer be Britons must take: for me, my ransom's death; On either side I come to spend my breath; Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again, But end it by some means for Imogen give me The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt, I know you are more clement than vile men, stamp; Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake: You rather mine, being yours: and so great powers, If you will take this audit, take this life, And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen! I'll speak to thee in silence. [He sleeps. Solemn Music. Enter, as an apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to POSTHUMUS, an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in his hand an ancient Matron, his wife, and mother to POSTHUMUS, with music before them. Then, after other music, follow the two young LEONATI, brothers to POSTHUMUS, with wounds, as they died in the wars. They circle POSTHUMUS round, as he lies sleeping. Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, shew With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, That thy adulteries Rates and revenges. Hath my poor boy done aught but well, Whose face I never saw? I died whilst in the womb he stayed, Attending Nature's law. Whose father then (as men report Thou orphans' father art) Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him But took me in my throes; Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry, Moulded the stuff so fair, That he deserved the praise o' the world, 1st Bro. When once he was mature for man, That could stand up his parallel; In Or fruitful object be eye of Imogen, that best Could deem his dignity? Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mocked, To be exiled, and thrown From Leonati' seat, and cast Sweet Imogen? Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo, Slight thing of Italy, To taint his nobler heart and brain With needless jealousy ; And to become the geck and scorn 2nd Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, Our parents, and us twain, That, striking in our country's cause, With honour to maintain. 1st Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath To Cymbeline performed: Upon a valiant race, thy harsh And potent injuries: Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good, Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! To the shining synod of the rest, Against thy deity. 2nd Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, And from thy justice fly. JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle; he throws a thunder-bolt. The Ghosts fall on their knees. Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, Offend our hearing; hush!—How dare you, ghosts, Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know, Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest Upon your never-withering banks of flowers: Be not with mortal accidents oppressed; No care of yours it is; you know t'is ours. Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift, The more delayed, delighted. Be content; Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift: His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. Our Jovial star reigned at his birth, and in Our temple was he married.-Rise, and fade! He shall be lord of lady Imogen, And happier much by his affliction made. This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; And so, away: no farther with your din Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Ascends. Sici. He came in thunder: his celestial breath Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle Stooped, as to foot us; his ascension is More sweet than our blessed fields: his royal bird Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, As when his god is pleased. All. Thanks, Jupiter! Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is entered His radiant roof. Away! and, to be blessed, Let us with care perform his great behest. [Ghosts vanish. Post. [waking]. Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot A father to me; and thou hast created And so I am awake.-Poor wretches that depend Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment of this contradiction you shall now be quit.-0, the charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge:-your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows. Post. I am merrier to die than thou art to live. Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache: but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go. Post. Yes, indeed do I, fellow. Gaol. Your death has eyes in 's head then; I have not seen him so pictured: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one. Post. 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. Gaol. 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. Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king. Post. Thou bringest good news: I am called to be made free. Gaol. I'll be hanged, then. Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt POSTHUMUS and Messenger. Gaol. 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 gaolers and gallowses! I speak against my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment in 't. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-CYMBELINE'S Tent. Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and Attendants. To sour your happiness, I must report Cym. Whom 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? Cor. 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. She alone knew this: And but she spoke it dying, I would not Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed. have made Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart Stepped before targe of proof, cannot be found: Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love With such integrity, she did confess |