behind our shelter, and let it float to the sea
and tell the fishes he's Cloten, the Queen's son.
That's the end of it, I say.
BELARIUS.
I fear'twill be reveng'd.
Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! though valour
Becomes thee well enough.
I fear there will be revenge for this.
I wish you hadn't done this Polydore!Though the bravery
is well suited to you.
ARVIRAGUS.
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.
I wish I had done it,
so the revenge was only taken on me!Polydore,
I love you as a brother, but I'm very jealous
that you did this thing and not me.I want to match you,
and I hope we have other encounters which test us,
and make us do our best.
BELARIUS.
Well, 'tis done.
We'll hunt no more to-day, 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.
Well, it's done.
We'll hunt no more today, nor look for danger
where there's no benefit to it.Back to the cave, please.
You and Fidele act as cooks; I'll stay here
until fiery Polydore comes back, and bring him
to dinner shortly.
ARVIRAGUS.
Poor sick Fidele!
I'll willingly to him; to gain his colour
I'd let a parish of such Cloten's blood,
And praise myself for charity.
Exit
Poor sick Fidele!
I'll gladly go to him; to put the colour back in his cheeks
I'd kill a parish full of people like Cloten,
and praise myself for my good works.
BELARIUS.
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, honour untaught,
Civility not seen from other, valour
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.
Re-enter GUIDERIUS
Oh goddess,
heavenly nature, you put yourself
into these two princely boys!They are as gentle
as breezes whispering through the violets
without disturbing their sweet petals; but they're as rough,
when their royal blood is up, as the strongest wind
that grabs the top of the mountain pine
and bends it down to the valley.It's amazing
that an unseen instinct should make them
royal without instruction, honourable without teaching,
unusually polite, they have bravery
growing wild in them, but the results are as good
as if they'd been educated.But still, it's a mystery
what Cloten's being here means for us,
or what his death will bring.
GUIDERIUS.
Where's my brother?
I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage
For his return. [Solemn music]
Where's my brother?
I have sent Cloten's head down the stream,
to see his mother; his body stays as hostage
for his return.
BELARIUS.
My ingenious instrument!
Hark, Polydore, it sounds. But what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
My cunning instrument!
Listen, Polydore, it's sounding.But what's made
Cadwal set it going?Listen!
GUIDERIUS.
Is he at home?
Is he at home?
BELARIUS.
He went hence even now.
He went there just now.
GUIDERIUS.
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?
Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN as dead, bearing
her in his arms
What does he mean?It hasn't been used since
the death of my dearest mother.This should only be used for
something serious.What is it?
Celebrating over nothing and lamenting over trifles
is fun for apes and wrong for boys.
Is Cadwal mad?
BELARIUS.
Look, here he comes,
And brings the dire occasion in his arms
Of what we blame him for!
Look, here he comes,
and he is carrying the terrible reason
for the thing we criticise him for.
ARVIRAGUS.
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.
The one we loved so much
is dead.I would rather have
gone straight from sixteen to sixty,
and turned my strong youth into weak old age,
than have seen this.
GUIDERIUS.
O sweetest, fairest lily!
My brother wears thee not the one half so well
As when thou grew'st thyself.
Oh sweetest, fairest lily!
You don't look half as good in my brother's arms.
as when you stood on your own feet.
BELARIUS.
O melancholy!
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find
The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Might'st easiliest harbour 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?
Oh sorrow!
Who could ever get to the bottom of you? Who could
find the sign to show what harbour your slow ship
might most easily anchor in?You blessed thing!
Jove knows what sort of man you would have lived to be; but I know
that you died, a most wonderful boy, of sorrow.
What was he like when you found him?
ARVIRAGUS.
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.
Just as you see now;
smiling like this, as if some fly had tickled him in his sleep,
not as if he was laughing at death's arrows; his right cheek
was resting on a cushion.
GUIDERIUS.
Where?
Where?
ARVIRAGUS.
O' th' floor;
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answer'd my steps too loud.
On the floor,
his arms crossed like this.I thought he was asleep, and took
my shoes off, because their rough soles
made too much noise.
GUIDERIUS.
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.
Why, he's just sleeping.
If he has gone his grave will be a bed;
his tomb will be surrounded with female fairies,
and worms will not eat you.
ARVIRAGUS.
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-sweet'ned not thy breath. The ruddock 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-
Fidele, as long as summer lasts
and I live here I'll sweeten your sad grave
with the fairest flowers, Fidele.You shall have
the pale primroses, that are like you face;
and the blue-lined harebell, like your veins; and
sweet briar leaf, which, not to put it down,
was not sweeter thanyour breath.The robin will,
with his kind beak - oh, a beak that shames
those rich heirs who let their fathers lie
without a monument! - bring you all this;
yes, and when there are no flowers he'll bring you
furry moss, to cover your body in winter.
GUIDERIUS.
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.
Please stop it,
and stop talking girlish nonsense when the matter
is so serious.Let us bury him,
and not string out with boasting
what now has to be done.Let's go to the grave.
ARVIRAGUS.
Say, where shall's lay him?
Where shall we bury him?
GUIDERIUS.
By good Euriphile, our mother.
Next to good Euriphile, our mother.
ARVIRAGUS.
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.
So be it.
And let us, Polydore, although our voices
have now become manly basses, sing him into the ground,
as we once did with our mother; use the same music and words,
except that Euriphile must be exchanged for Fidele.
GUIDERIUS.
Cadwal,
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.
Cadwal, I cannot sing.I'll weep, and speak the words with you;
for songs of sorrow sung out of tune are worse
than lying priests and their temples.
ARVIRAGUS.
We'll speak it, then.
We'll say the words, then.
BELARIUS.
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.
Great sorrows, I see, make the lesser ones disappear, for Cloten
has been quite forgotten.He was the son of a queen, boys;
and though he came here as our enemy, remember
he has paid the price for that.Though low and mighty
both rot to the same dust, but reverence -
the guiding light of the world - distinguishes
between the great and the low.Our enemy was a prince;
and though you took his life as an enemy,
still bury him as a prince.
GUIDERIUS.
Pray you fetch him hither.
Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',
When neither are alive.
Please bring him here.
Thersite's body is as good as that of Ajax,
when they are both dead.
ARVIRAGUS.
If you'll go fetch him,
We'll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.
Exit BELARIUS
If you'll go and fetch him,
we'll say our song in the meantime.Brother, begin.
GUIDERIUS.
Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th' East;
My father hath a reason for't.
No, Cadwal, we must lay him with his head pointing east.
That's what my father says.
ARVIRAGUS.
'Tis true.
It's true.
GUIDERIUS.
Come on, then, and remove him.
Come on then, and move him.
ARVIRAGUS.
So. Begin.
That's it.Begin.
SONG
GUIDERIUS.
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.
Don't fear any longer the heat of the sun
nor the furious raging of the winter;
you have finished your task on earth,
you have gone home, and taken your wages.
Golden lads and girls must all,
like chimney sweeps, become dust.
ARVIRAGUS.
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.
Don't fear the frown of the great any longer;
you are beyond the reach of the tyrant.
Don't worry any longer about clothes and food;
the reed and the oak are the same to you.
Royalty, learning, medicine, must
all follow you and turn to dust.
GUIDERIUS.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Don't fear the lightning flash,
ARVIRAGUS.
Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Nor the dreaded thunderbolt;
GUIDERIUS.
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Don't fear slander, or unfair criticism;
ARVIRAGUS.
Thou hast finish'd joy and moan.
Joy and grief are over for you now.
BOTH.
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.
All young lovers, all lovers must
do the same as you and
end as dust.
GUIDERIUS.
No exorciser harm thee!
May no magicianraise you!
ARVIRAGUS.
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Nor any witchcraft charm you!
GUIDERIUS.
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
May restless ghosts leave you alone!
ARVIRAGUS.
Nothing ill come near thee!
May nothing evil come near you!
BOTH.
Quiet consummation have,
And renowned be thy grave!
Re-enter BELARIUS with the body of CLOTEN
Have a quiet rest,
and may your grave be worshipped!
GUIDERIUS.
We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down.
We have done the funeral rites.Come, lay him down.
BELARIUS.
Here's a few flowers; but 'bout midnight, more.
The herbs that have on them cold dew o' th' night
Are strewings fit'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 all but IMOGEN
Here are a few flowers; we'll bring more at midnight.
The herbs that have the cold dew of the night on them
are the best coverings for graves.Put them on their faces.
You were like flowers, now you're withered.It's the same
with these little herbs we shall now cover you with.
Come on, we must go, we shall kneel and pray.
The ground they came from has reclaimed them.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 513