Act IV, Scene 2
Before Belarius’ cave.
- Enter Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen from the
Belarius1 - 2
- To Imogen.
- You are not well. Remain here in the cave,
- We’ll come to you after hunting.
Arviragus3 - 4
- To Imogen.
- Brother, stay here.
- Are we not brothers?
Imogen5 - 7
- So man and man should be,
- But clay and clay differs in dignity,
- Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.
- Go you to hunting, I’ll abide with him.
Imogen9 - 18
- So sick I am not, yet I am not well;
- 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 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.
Guiderius19 - 21
- I love thee; I have spoke it;
- How much the quantity, the weight as much,
- As I do love my father.
- What? How? How?
Arviragus23 - 28
- 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’ld say
- “My father, not this youth.”
Belarius29 - 35
- 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, lov’d before me.—
- ’Tis the ninth hour o’ th’ morn.
- Brother, farewell.
- I wish ye sport.
Arviragus38 - 39
- You health.
- To Belarius.
- So please you, sir.
Imogen40 - 46
- 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.
- Swallows some.
Guiderius47 - 49
- I could not stir him.
- He said he was gentle, but unfortunate;
- Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.
Arviragus50 - 51
- Thus did he answer me; yet said hereafter
- I might know more.
Belarius52 - 53
- To th’ field, to th’ field!
- We’ll leave you for this time, go in, and rest.
- We’ll not be long away.
Belarius55 - 56
- Pray, be not sick,
- For you must be our huswife.
Imogen57 - 58
- Well or ill,
- I am bound to you.
Belarius59 - 61
- And shalt be ever.
- Exit Imogen to the cave.
- This youth, how e’er distress’d, appears he hath had
- Good ancestors.
- How angel-like he sings!
Guiderius63 - 65
- But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters,
- And sauc’d our broths, as Juno had been sick
- And he her dieter.
Arviragus66 - 71
- 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.
Guiderius72 - 74
- I do note
- That grief and patience, rooted in them both,
- Mingle their spurs together.
Arviragus75 - 77
- Grow patience,
- And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
- His perishing root with the increasing vine.
- It is great morning. Come away!—Who’s there?
- Enter Cloten.
Cloten79 - 80
- I cannot find those runagates, that villain
- Hath mock’d me. I am faint.
Belarius81 - 85
- “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!
Guiderius86 - 88
- He is but one. You and my brother search
- What companies are near. Pray you away,
- Let me alone with him.
- Exeunt Belarius and Arviragus.
Cloten89 - 91
- Soft, what are you
- That fly me thus? Some villain mountainers?
- I have heard of such. What slave art thou?
Guiderius92 - 94
- A thing
- More slavish did I ne’er than answering
- A slave without a knock.
Cloten95 - 96
- Thou art a robber,
- A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief.
Guiderius97 - 101
- 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.
Cloten102 - 103
- Thou villain base,
- Know’st me not by my clothes?
Guiderius104 - 106
- No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
- Who is thy grandfather! He made those clothes,
- Which (as it seems) make thee.
Cloten107 - 108
- Thou precious varlet,
- My tailor made them not.
Guiderius109 - 111
- Hence then, and thank
- The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool,
- I am loath to beat thee.
Cloten112 - 113
- Thou injurious thief,
- Hear but my name, and tremble.
- What’s thy name?
- Cloten, thou villain.
Guiderius116 - 118
- Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,
- I cannot tremble at it. Were it Toad, or Adder, Spider,
- ’Twould move me sooner.
Cloten119 - 121
- To thy further fear,
- Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
- I am son to th’ Queen.
Guiderius122 - 123
- I am sorry for’t; not seeming
- So worthy as thy birth.
- Art not afeard?
Guiderius125 - 126
- Those that I reverence, those I fear—the wise:
- At fools I laugh, not fear them.
Cloten127 - 131
- 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.
- No company’s abroad?
- None in the world. You did mistake him sure.
Belarius134 - 138
- I cannot tell; long is it since I saw him,
- But time hath nothing blurr’d 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.
Arviragus139 - 141
- In this place we left them.
- I wish my brother make good time with him,
- You say he is so fell.
Belarius142 - 146
- Being scarce made up,
- I mean, to man, he had not apprehension
- Of roaring terrors; for defect of judgment
- Is oft the cause of fear.
- Enter Guiderius with Cloten’s head.
- But see, thy brother.
Guiderius147 - 151
- This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse,
- There was no money in’t. Not Hercules
- Could have knock’d out his brains, for he had none.
- Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
- My head as I do his.
- What hast thou done?
Guiderius153 - 158
- I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten’s head,
- Son to the Queen (after his own report),
- Who call’d me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
- With his own single hand he’ld take us in,
- Displace our heads where (thanks, ye gods!) they grow,
- And set them on Lud’s-Town.
- We are all undone.
Guiderius160 - 166
- 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?
Belarius167 - 182
- No single soul
- 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, not
- Absolute madness could so far have rav’d
- 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’ld 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.
Arviragus183 - 185
- Let ord’nance
- Come as the gods foresay it; howsoe’er,
- My brother hath done well.
Belarius186 - 188
- I had no mind
- To hunt this day; the boy Fidele’s sickness
- Did make my way long forth.
Guiderius189 - 194
- 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 reak.
Belarius195 - 197
- I fear ’twill be reveng’d,
- Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done’t! Though valor
- Becomes thee well enough.
Arviragus198 - 203
- Would I had done’t!
- So the revenge alone pursu’d me. Polydore,
- I love thee brotherly, but envy much
- Thou hast robb’d me of this deed. I would revenges,
- That possible strength might meet, would seek us through
- And put us to our answer.
Belarius204 - 209
- 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.
Arviragus210 - 213
- Poor sick Fidele!
- I’ll willingly to him. To gain his color
- I’ld let a parish of such Clotens blood,
- And praise myself for charity.
Belarius214 - 228
- O thou goddess,
- Thou divine Nature, thou 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 enchaf’d, 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 unlearn’d, honor untaught,
- Civility not seen from other, valor
- That wildly grows in them but yields a crop
- As if it had been sow’d. Yet still it’s strange
- What Cloten’s being here to us portends,
- Or what his death will bring us.
- Enter Guiderius.
Guiderius229 - 232
- Where’s my brother?
- I have sent Cloten’s clotpole down the stream
- In embassy to his mother. His body’s hostage
- For his return.
- Solemn music.
Belarius233 - 235
- My ingenious instrument
- (Hark, Polydore), it sounds! But what occasion
- Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
- Is he at home?
- He went hence even now.
Guiderius238 - 243
- 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 Arviragus with Imogen as dead, bearing her in his
Belarius244 - 246
- Look, here he comes,
- And brings the dire occasion in his arms
- Of what we blame him for.
Arviragus247 - 251
- The bird is dead
- That we have made so much on. I had rather
- Have skipp’d from sixteen years of age to sixty,
- To have turn’d my leaping time into a crutch,
- Than have seen this.
Guiderius252 - 254
- O sweetest, fairest lily!
- My brother wears thee not the one half so well
- As when thou grew’st thyself.
Belarius255 - 261
- O melancholy,
- Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? Find
- The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare
- Mightst easil’est harbor in? Thou blessed thing,
- Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,
- Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.
- How found you him?
Arviragus262 - 265
- Stark, as you see;
- Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
- Not as death’s dart being laugh’d at; his right cheek
- Reposing on a cushion.
Arviragus267 - 270
- O’ th’ floor.
- His arms thus leagu’d. I thought he slept, and put
- My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
- Answer’d my steps too loud.
Guiderius271 - 274
- 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.
Arviragus275 - 286
- 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 azur’d harebell, like thy veins; no, nor
- The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
- Outsweet’ned not thy breath. The raddock 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 furr’d moss besides. When flow’rs are none,
- To winter-ground thy corse—
Guiderius287 - 291
- 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!
- Say, where shall ’s lay him?
- By good Euriphile, our mother.
Arviragus294 - 298
- Be’t so;
- And let us, Polydore, 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.
Guiderius299 - 302
- 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.
- We’ll speak it then.
Belarius304 - 312
- 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
- (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.
Guiderius313 - 315
- Pray you fetch him hither.
- Thersites’ body is as good as Ajax’,
- When neither are alive.
Arviragus316 - 317
- If you’ll go fetch him,
- We’ll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.
- Exit Belarius.
Guiderius318 - 319
- Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th’ east,
- My father hath a reason for’t.
- ’Tis true.
- Come on then, and remove him.
- So. Begin.
Guiderius323 - 328
- 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.
Arviragus329 - 334
- 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.
- Fear no more the lightning-flash.
- Nor th’ all-dreaded thunder-stone.
- Fear not slander, censure rash.
- Thou hast finish’d joy and moan.
Both Arviragus and Guiderius339 - 340
- All lovers young, all lovers must
- Consign to thee and come to dust.
- No exorcisor harm thee.
- Nor no witchcraft charm thee.
- Ghost unlaid forbear thee.
- Nothing ill come near thee.
Both Arviragus and Guiderius345 - 346
- Quiet consummation have,
- And renowned be thy grave.
- Enter Belarius with the body of Cloten.
- We have done our obsequies. Come lay him down.
Belarius348 - 355
- Here’s a few flow’rs, 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 flow’rs, now wither’d; even so
- 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.
- Exeunt Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Imogen356 - 397
- Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven, which is the way?
- I thank you. By yond bush? Pray how far thither?
- ’Od’s pittikins! Can it be six mile yet?
- I have gone all night. Faith, I’ll lie down and sleep.
- Sees the body of Cloten.
- But soft! No bedfellow! O gods and goddesses!
- These flow’rs are like the pleasures of the world;
- 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 eyes
- 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, fear’d gods, a part of it!
- The dream’s here still; even when I wake, it is
- Without me, as within me; not imagin’d, 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—
- Murder in heaven? How? ’Tis gone. Pisanio,
- All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
- And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
- Conspir’d with that irregulous devil Cloten,
- Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read
- Be henceforth treacherous! Damn’d Pisanio
- Hath with his forged letters (damn’d Pisanio!)
- From this most bravest vessel of the world
- Struck the main-top! O Posthumus, alas,
- Where is thy head? Where’s that? Ay me! Where’s that?
- Pisanio might have kill’d 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 precious
- 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 those
- Which chance to find us. O, my lord! My lord!
- Falls on the body.
- Enter Lucius, Captains, and Philarmonus, a soothsayer.
Roman Captain398 - 401
- To them the legions garrison’d in Gallia,
- After your will, have cross’d the sea, attending
- You here at Milford-Haven with your ships.
- They are here in readiness.
- But what from Rome?
Roman Captain403 - 407
- The Senate hath stirr’d up the confiners
- And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits
- That promise noble service; and they come
- Under the conduct of bold Jachimo,
- Sienna’s brother.
- When expect you them?
- With the next benefit o’ th’ wind.
Caius Lucius410 - 413
- This forwardness
- Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
- Be muster’d; bid the captains look to’t. Now, sir,
- What have you dream’d of late of this war’s purpose?
Philarmonus414 - 420
- Last night the very gods show’d me a vision
- (I fast and pray’d for their intelligence) thus:
- I saw Jove’s bird, the Roman eagle, wing’d
- From the spungy south to this part of the west,
- There vanish’d in the sunbeams, which portends
- (Unless my sins abuse my divination)
- Success to th’ Roman host.
Caius Lucius421 - 428
- Dream often so,
- 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 bed
- With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead,
- Let’s see the boy’s face.
- He’s alive, my lord.
Caius Lucius430 - 437
- He’ll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
- Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
- 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 alter’d that good picture? What’s thy interest
- In this sad wrack? How came’t? Who is’t?
- What art thou?
Imogen438 - 445
- I am nothing; or if not,
- Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
- A very valiant Britain, and a good,
- That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas,
- 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.
Caius Lucius446 - 448
- ’Lack, good youth!
- Thou mov’st no less with thy complaining than
- Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
Imogen449 - 452
- Richard du Champ.
- If I do lie and do
- No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
- They’ll pardon it.—Say you, sir?
- Thy name?
- Fidele, sir.
Caius Lucius455 - 461
- 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 say
- Thou shalt be so well master’d, but be sure
- No less belov’d. The Roman Emperor’s letters,
- Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
- Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.
Imogen462 - 469
- I’ll follow, sir. But first, and’t please the gods,
- 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’ strew’d his grave,
- And on it said a century of prayers
- (Such as I can) twice o’er, I’ll weep and sigh,
- And leaving so his service, follow you,
- So please you entertain me.
Caius Lucius470 - 479
- Ay, good youth,
- And rather father thee than master thee.
- My friends,
- 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 preferr’d
- By thee to us, and he shall be interr’d
- As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes:
- Some falls are means the happier to arise.