The dream's here still even when I wake, it is Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart, And left this head on. How should this be? 'Tis he and Cloten: malice and lucre in them The drug he gave me, which he said was precious This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: O! Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood, 311. Jovial face; cf. Hamlet : 'the front of Jove himself.' 313. madded, i.e. at the slaying of Hector by Achilles. [Falls on the body. 315. irregulous, lawless. 310 320 330 325. pregnant, evident, convincing. Enter LUCIUS, a Captain and other Officers, and a Soothsayer. Cap. 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 in readiness. Luc. But what from Rome? Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners Luc. When expect you them? Cap. With the next benefit o' the wind. Luc. 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? Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision 340 I fast and pray'd for their intelligence—thus: 333. To them, i.e. in addition to the forces already in Britain. 337. confiners, borderers. 341. Syenna, the ruler of Sienna. 346 f. This episode was probably suggested by Holinshed's description of Aulus Plautius' invasion under Claudius, when 'the mariners and men of war were encouraged by seeing a fierie leme [light] to shoot out of the east towards the west, which way their course lay' (Stone's Holinshed, p. 15). 347. fast, fasted. 349. spongy, moist. Luc. And never false. Without his top? Dream often so, Soft, ho! what trunk is here The ruin speaks that sometime It was a worthy building. How! a page! With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead. Let's see the boy's face. Cap. He's alive, my lord. Luc. 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 Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy in terest In this sad wreck? What art thou? Imo. I am nothing or if not, How came it? Who is it? This was my master, Alas! Nothing to be were better. A very valiant Briton and a good, That here by mountaineers lies slain. There is no more such masters: I may wander Try many, all good, serve truly, never Find such another master. Luc. 'Lack, good youth! Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend. Imo. Richard du Champ. [Aside] If I do lie and do No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope 360 370 364. otherwise than noble nature did, to another figure than that which nature painted. They'll pardon it.—Say you, sir? Luc. Imo. Thy name? Fidele, sir. Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same: 380 Thou shalt be so well master'd, but, be sure, Than thine own worth prefer thee go with me. gods, But first, an 't please the I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd his grave, and sigh; And on it said a century of prayers, Luc. Ay, good youth; And rather father thee than master thee. The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us 399. partisans, halberds. in your arms.' [Exeunt. 400. preferr'd, committed. 390 400 SCENE III. A room in Cymbeline's palace. Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, PISANIO, and Attendants. Cym. Again; and bring me word how 'tis with her. [Exit an Attendant. A fever with the absence of her son, A madness, of which her life's in danger. Heavens, How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen, When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, Pis. Sir, my life is yours; I humbly set it at your will; but, for my mistress, highness, Hold me your loyal servant. First Lord. Beseech your Good my liege, The day that she was missing he was here: Cym. The time is troublesome. [To Pisanio] We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy Does yet depend. 23. depend, hangs over you. 10 20 |