Cymbeline

1 Enter Posthumus and two Gaolers.
2 FIRST GAOLER. You shall not now be stol’n, you have locks upon you;
3 So graze as you find pasture.
4 SECOND GAOLER.
5 Ay, or a stomach.
6 [_Exeunt Gaolers._]
7 POSTHUMUS.
8 Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way,
9 I think, to liberty. Yet am I better
10 Than one that’s sick o’ th’ gout, since he had rather
11 Groan so in perpetuity than be cur’d
12 By th’ sure physician death, who is the key
13 T’ unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter’d
14 More than my shanks and wrists; you good gods, give me
15 The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
16 Then, free for ever! Is’t enough I am sorry?
17 So children temporal fathers do appease;
18 Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent,
19 I cannot do it better than in gyves,
20 Desir’d more than constrain’d. To satisfy,
21 If of my freedom ’tis the main part, take
22 No stricter render of me than my all.
23 I know you are more clement than vile men,
24 Who of their broken debtors take a third,
25 A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
26 On their abatement; that’s not my desire.
27 For Imogen’s dear life take mine; and though
28 ’Tis not so dear, yet ’tis a life; you coin’d it.
29 ’Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
30 Though light, take pieces for the figure’s sake;
31 You rather mine, being yours. And so, great pow’rs,
32 If you will take this audit, take this life,
33 And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
34 I’ll speak to thee in silence.
35 [_Sleeps._]
36 Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition, Sicilius Leonatus, father to
37 Posthumus, an old man attired like a warrior; leading in his hand an
38 ancient matron, his wife and Mother to Posthumus, with music before
39 them. Then, after other music, follows the two young Leonati, brothers
40 to Posthumus, with wounds, as they died in the wars. They circle
41 Posthumus round as he lies sleeping.
42 SICILIUS.
43 No more, thou thunder-master, show
44 Thy spite on mortal flies.
45 With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
46 That thy adulteries
47 Rates and revenges.
48 Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
49 Whose face I never saw?
50 I died whilst in the womb he stay’d
51 Attending nature’s law;
52 Whose father then, as men report
53 Thou orphans’ father art,
54 Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
55 From this earth-vexing smart.
56 MOTHER.
57 Lucina lent not me her aid,
58 But took me in my throes,
59 That from me was Posthumus ripp’d,
60 Came crying ’mongst his foes,
61 A thing of pity.
62 SICILIUS.
63 Great Nature like his ancestry
64 Moulded the stuff so fair
65 That he deserv’d the praise o’ th’ world
66 As great Sicilius’ heir.
67 FIRST BROTHER.
68 When once he was mature for man,
69 In Britain where was he
70 That could stand up his parallel,
71 Or fruitful object be
72 In eye of Imogen, that best
73 Could deem his dignity?
74 MOTHER.
75 With marriage wherefore was he mock’d,
76 To be exil’d and thrown
77 From Leonati seat and cast
78 From her his dearest one,
79 Sweet Imogen?
80 SICILIUS.
81 Why did you suffer Iachimo,
82 Slight thing of Italy,
83 To taint his nobler heart and brain
84 With needless jealousy,
85 And to become the geck and scorn
86 O’ th’ other’s villainy?
87 SECOND BROTHER.
88 For this from stiller seats we came,
89 Our parents and us twain,
90 That, striking in our country’s cause,
91 Fell bravely and were slain,
92 Our fealty and Tenantius’ right
93 With honour to maintain.
94 FIRST BROTHER.
95 Like hardiment Posthumus hath
96 To Cymbeline perform’d.
97 Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
98 Why hast thou thus adjourn’d
99 The graces for his merits due,
100 Being all to dolours turn’d?
101 SICILIUS.
102 Thy crystal window ope; look out;
103 No longer exercise
104 Upon a valiant race thy harsh
105 And potent injuries.
106 MOTHER.
107 Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
108 Take off his miseries.
109 SICILIUS.
110 Peep through thy marble mansion. Help!
111 Or we poor ghosts will cry
112 To th’ shining synod of the rest
113 Against thy deity.
114 BROTHERS.
115 Help, Jupiter! or we appeal,
116 And from thy justice fly.
117 Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle. He
118 throws a thunderbolt. The Ghosts fall on their knees.
119 JUPITER.
120 No more, you petty spirits of region low,
121 Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you ghosts
122 Accuse the Thunderer whose bolt, you know,
123 Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
124 Poor shadows of Elysium, hence and rest
125 Upon your never-withering banks of flow’rs.
126 Be not with mortal accidents opprest:
127 No care of yours it is; you know ’tis ours.
128 Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift,
129 The more delay’d, delighted. Be content;
130 Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift;
131 His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
132 Our Jovial star reign’d at his birth, and in
133 Our temple was he married. Rise and fade!
134 He shall be lord of Lady Imogen,
135 And happier much by his affliction made.
136 This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
137 Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;
138 And so, away; no farther with your din
139 Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
140 Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
141 [_Ascends._]
142 SICILIUS.
143 He came in thunder; his celestial breath
144 Was sulphurous to smell; the holy eagle
145 Stoop’d as to foot us. His ascension is
146 More sweet than our blest fields. His royal bird
147 Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,
148 As when his god is pleas’d.
149 ALL.
150 Thanks, Jupiter!
151 SICILIUS.
152 The marble pavement closes, he is enter’d
153 His radiant roof. Away! and, to be blest,
154 Let us with care perform his great behest.
155 [_Ghosts vanish._]
156 POSTHUMUS.
157 [_Waking._] Sleep, thou has been a grandsire and begot
158 A father to me; and thou hast created
159 A mother and two brothers. But, O scorn,
160 Gone! They went hence so soon as they were born.
161 And so I am awake. Poor wretches, that depend
162 On greatness’ favour, dream as I have done;
163 Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve;
164 Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
165 And yet are steep’d in favours; so am I,
166 That have this golden chance, and know not why.
167 What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one!
168 Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
169 Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects
170 So follow to be most unlike our courtiers,
171 As good as promise.
172 [_Reads._] _When as a lion’s whelp shall, to himself unknown, without
173 seeking find, and be embrac’d by a piece of tender air; and when from a
174 stately cedar shall be lopp’d branches which, being dead many years,
175 shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then
176 shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish in
177 peace and plenty._
178 ’Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen
179 Tongue, and brain not; either both or nothing,
180 Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
181 As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
182 The action of my life is like it, which
183 I’ll keep, if but for sympathy.
184 Enter Gaoler.
185 GAOLER.
186 Come, sir, are you ready for death?
187 POSTHUMUS.
188 Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.
189 GAOLER.
190 Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are well
191 cook’d.
192 POSTHUMUS.
193 So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot.
194 GAOLER.
195 A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is, you shall be called
196 to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills, which are often the
197 sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth. You come in faint for
198 want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have
199 paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain
200 both empty; the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too
201 light, being drawn of heaviness. O, of this contradiction you shall now
202 be quit. O, the charity of a penny cord! It sums up thousands in a
203 trice. You have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what’s past,
204 is, and to come, the discharge. Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and
205 counters; so the acquittance follows.
206 POSTHUMUS.
207 I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
208 GAOLER.
209 Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache. But a man that
210 were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he
211 would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not
212 which way you shall go.
213 POSTHUMUS.
214 Yes indeed do I, fellow.
215 GAOLER.
216 Your death has eyes in’s head, then; I have not seen him so pictur’d.
217 You must either be directed by some that take upon them to know, or to
218 take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the
219 after-inquiry on your own peril. And how you shall speed in your
220 journey’s end, I think you’ll never return to tell one.
221 POSTHUMUS.
222 I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I
223 am going, but such as wink and will not use them.
224 GAOLER.
225 What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of
226 eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging’s the way of
227 winking.
228 Enter a Messenger.
229 MESSENGER.
230 Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the King.
231 POSTHUMUS.
232 Thou bring’st good news: I am call’d to be made free.
233 GAOLER.
234 I’ll be hang’d then.
235 POSTHUMUS.
236 Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
237 [_Exeunt Posthumus and Messenger._]
238 GAOLER.
239 Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets, I never saw
240 one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to
241 live, for all he be a Roman; and there be some of them too that die
242 against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of
243 one mind, and one mind good. O, there were desolation of gaolers and
244 gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a
245 preferment in’t.
246 [_Exit._]