ACT V SCENE IV | A British prison. | |
| Enter POSTHUMUS and two Gaolers. | |
First Gaoler | You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you; | |
| So graze as you find pasture. | |
Second Gaoler | Ay, or a stomach. | |
| [ Exeunt Gaolers. | |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | Most welcome, bondage! for thou art away, |
| think, to liberty: yet am I better | |
| Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather | |
| Groan so in perpetuity than be cured | |
| By the sure physician, death, who is the key | |
| To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd |
| More than my shanks and wrists: you good gods, give me | |
| The penitent instrument to pick that bolt, | 10 |
| Then, free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry? | |
| So children temporal fathers do appease; | |
| Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent? |
| I cannot do it better than in gyves, | |
| Desired more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
| |
| If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take | |
| No stricter render of me than my all. | |
| I know you are more clement than vile men, |
| Who of their broken debtors take a third, | |
| A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again | 20 |
| On their abatement: that's not my desire: | |
| For Imogen's dear life take mine; and though | |
| 'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it: |
| 'Tween man and man they weigh not every 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. | |
| [ Sleeps. | |
| Solemn music. Enter, as in 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. | |
Sicilius Leonatus | No more, thou thunder-master, show | 30 |
| Thy spite on mortal flies: | |
| 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 stay'd | |
| Attending nature's law: |
| Whose father then, as men report | |
| Thou orphans' father art, | 40 |
| Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him | |
| From this earth-vexing smart. | |
Mother | Lucina lent not me her aid, |
| But took me in my throes; | |
| That from me was Posthumus ript, | |
| Came crying 'mongst his foes, | |
| A thing of pity! | |
Sicilius Leonatus | Great nature, like his ancestry, |
| Moulded the stuff so fair, | |
| That he deserved the praise o' the world, | 50 |
| As great Sicilius' heir. | |
First Brother | When once he was mature for man, | |
| In Britain where was he |
| That could stand up his parallel; | |
| Or fruitful object be | |
| In eye of Imogen, that best | |
| Could deem his dignity? | |
Mother | With marriage wherefore was he mock'd, |
| To be exiled, and thrown | |
| From Leonati' seat, and cast | 60 |
| From her his dearest one, | |
| Sweet Imogen? | |
Sicilius Leonatus | Why did you suffer Iachimo, |
| Slight thing of Italy, | |
| To taint his nobler heart and brain | |
| With needless jealosy; | |
| And to become the geck and scorn | |
| O' th' other's villany? |
Second Brother | For this from stiller seats we came, | |
| Our parents and us twain, | 70 |
| That striking in our country's cause | |
| Fell bravely and were slain, | |
| Our fealty and Tenantius' right |
| With honour to maintain. | |
First Brother | Like hardiment Posthumus hath | |
| To Cymbeline perform'd: | |
| Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods, | |
| Why hast thou thus adjourn'd |
| The graces for his merits due, | |
| Being all to dolours turn'd? | 80 |
Sicilius Leonatus | Thy crystal window ope; look out; | |
| No longer exercise | |
| Upon a valiant race thy harsh |
| And potent injuries. | |
Mother | Since, Jupiter, our son is good, | |
| Take off his miseries. | |
Sicilius Leonatus | Peep through thy marble mansion; help; | |
| Or we poor ghosts will cry |
| To the shining synod of the rest | |
| Against thy deity. | 90 |
First Brother | | Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, | |
| | And from thy justice fly. | |
Second Brother | | |
| Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The Apparitions fall on their knees. | |
Jupiter | 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 opprest; | |
| No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours. | 100 |
| Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift, | |
| The more delay'd, delighted. Be content; |
| Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift: | |
| His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. | |
| Our Jovial star reign'd 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: | 110 |
| and so, away: no further with your din | |
| Express impatience, lest you stir up mine. |
| Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. | |
| [ Ascends. | |
Sicilius Leonatus | He came in thunder; his celestial breath | |
| Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle | |
| Stoop'd as to foot us: his ascension is | |
| More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird |
| Prunes the immortal wing and cloys his beak, | |
| As when his god is pleased. | |
All | Thanks, Jupiter! | |
Sicilius Leonatus | The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd | |
| His radiant root. Away! and, to be blest, |
| Let us with care perform his great behest. | |
| [ The Apparitions vanish. | |
Posthumus Leonatus | [ Waking ] | |
| A father to me; and thou hast created | |
| A mother and two brothers: but, O scorn! | |
| Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born: | |
| And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend |
| On greatness' favour dream as I have done, | |
| Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve: | |
| Many dream not to find, neither deserve, | 130 |
| And yet are steep'd in favours: so am I, | |
| That have this golden chance and know not why. |
| What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one! | |
| Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment | |
| Nobler than that it covers: let thy effects |
| So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, | |
| As good as promise. |
| [ Reads. | |
| "When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, | |
| without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of | |
| tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be | |
| lopped branches, which, being dead many years, | |
| shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock and |
| freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, | |
| Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty." | |
| 'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen | |
| Tongue and brain not; either both or nothing; | |
| Or senseless speaking or a speaking such |
| As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, | |
| The action of my life is like it, which | |
| I'll keep, if but for sympathy. | 150 |
| Re-enter Gaolers. | |
First Gaoler | Come, sir, are you ready for death? | |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | Over-roasted rather; ready long ago. |
First Gaoler | Hanging is the word, sir: if | |
| you be ready for that, you are well cooked. | |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | So, if I prove a good repast to the | |
| spectators, the dish pays the shot. | |
First Gaoler | A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is, |
| you shall be called to no more payments, fear no | |
| more tavern-bills; which are often the sadness of | |
| parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in | |
| flint for want of meat, depart reeling with too | |
| much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and |
| sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain | |
| both empty; the brain the heavier for being too | |
| light, the purse too light, being drawn of | |
| heaviness: of this contradiction you shall now be | |
| quit. O, 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. | |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | I am merrier to die than thou art to live. | 170 |
First Gaoler | 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. |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | Yes, indeed do I, fellow. | |
First Gaoler | 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 do 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. | |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to | |
| direct them the way I am going, but such as wink and | 185 |
| will not use them. | |
First Gaoler | 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. | |
Messenger | Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king. |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free. | |
First Gaoler | I'll be hang'd then. | |
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS | Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead. | |
| [ Exeunt Posthumus and Messenger. | |
First Gaoler | 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 | 200 |
| gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but | |
| my wish hath a preferment in 't. | |
| [ Exeunt. | |