These boys know little they are sons to the king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think they are mine: and, though train'd up
thus meanly
I' the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In simple and low things to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,-
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
The king his father call'd Guiderius,-Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story: say, Thus mine enemy fell;
And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal,
(Once Arviragus,) in as like a figure,
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more
His own conceiving.
Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.
False to his bed! What is it, to be false?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge na
ture,
To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myself awake? that's false to his bed?
WOMAN IN MAN'S APPAREL.
You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience; fear and niceness,
(The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty self,) to a waggish courage;
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel: nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart!
Alack no remedy!) to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titian;* and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.
SCENE. Before the Cave of Belarius.
Enter IMOGEN, in Boy's Clothes.
Imo. I see, man's life is a tedious one:
I have tir'd myself; and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
But that my resolution helps me.—Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken: 0 Jove! I think,
Foundations fly the wretched: such, I mean,
When they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told
I could not miss my way: Will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis
A punishment, or trial? Yes, no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true: To lapse in fulness
Is sorer, than to lie for need: and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars.-My dear lord'
Thou art one o' the false ones: Now I think on thee,
My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food.-But what is this?
Here is a path to it: 'Tis some savage hold:
I were best not call; I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother.
Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard.
HARMLESS INNOCENCE.
Imo. Good master harm me not:
Before I enter'd here, I call'd; and thought
To have begg'd, or bought, what I have took: Good
I have stolen naught; nor would not though I had
Gold strew'd o' the floor. Here's money for my meat 1 would have left it on the board, so soon
As I had made my meal; and parted
With prayers for the provider.
Arv. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt! As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.
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.
Being scarce made up,
I mean, to man, he had not apprehension
Of roaring terrors; for the effect of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear.
Thou divine nature, how 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 the vale. "Tis wonderful
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd; honour untaught;
Civility not seen from other: valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow'd.
Enter ARVIRAGUS, bearing IMOGEN, as dead, in his
And brings the dire occasion in his arms,
Of what we blame him for!
Arv.
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 to have seen this.
Gui.
O sweetest, fairest lily!
My brother wears thee not the one half so well,
As when thou grew'st thyself.
O, melancholy Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare* Might easiliest harbour in?--Thou blessed thing: Jove knows what man thou might'st have made; but I, Thou died'st a most rare boy of melancholy!— How found you him?
Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at: his right cheek
Reposing on a cushion.
His arms thus leagu'd: I thought, he slept; and put My clouted broguest from off my feet, whose rudeAnswer'd my steps too loud.
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.
Arv. 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 hare-bell like thy veins: no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath; the ruddock§ would
With charitable bill (O bill, sore-shaming
*Slow-sailing, unwieldy vessel.
Shoes plated with iron. § The red-breast.
Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!) bring thee all this;
Yea and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none, To winter-ground* thy corse,
Bel Great griefs, I see, medicine 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.
Pray you, fetch him hither, 'Thersites' body is as good as Ajax,
Gui. Fear no more the heat o' the 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.
Arv. Fear no more the frown o' the 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.
Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone:
Gui. Fear not slander, censure‡ rash;
Arv. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan
Both. All lovers, young, all lovers must
Consigns to thee, and come to dust.
* Probably a corrupt reading for wither round thy † Punished.
§ Seal the same contract.
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