Their earthly pleasures are gone, and so is their pain.
IMOGEN.
[Awaking] Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way?
I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither?
'Ods pittikins! can it be six mile yet?
I have gone all night. Faith, I'll lie down and sleep.
But, soft! no bedfellow. O gods and goddesses!
[Seeing the body]
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 colour 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 fainting on the body]
Enter LUCIUS, CAPTAINS, and a SOOTHSAYER
Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which way is it?
Thank you. Past that bush? How far is it, please?
Good heavens! Can it still be six miles?
I have travelled all night. Right, I'll lie down and sleep.
But what's this! I don't want a companion. Oh gods and goddesses!
[Seeing the body]
These flowers are like the happiness of the world;
this bloody man is like the sorrow of it. I hope I'm dreaming;
for I thought that I was a cave dweller,
and a cook to honest men. But it's not so;
it was just a figment of my imagination,
something the brain makes out of the air. Our eyes
can sometimes be blind like our judgement. Good heavens,
I'm still trembling with fear: but if there is
the smallest imaginable drop of pity
left in heaven, feared gods, give me a part of it!
What I dreamt is still here: even now I'm awake it is
around me, as it was inside me: it wasn't imagination, it's real.
A headless man? In the clothes of Posthumus?
I know the shape of his leg: this is his hand:
his speedy foot: his soldier's thigh:
the muscles of Hercules: but his godlike face–
how can such a God be murdered!–Is gone. Pisanio,
all the curses that mad Hecuba laid on the Greeks,
and mine as well, may they all land on you! You
conspired with that lawless devil, Cloten,
and he's decapitated my lord. Everyone should look out
for reading and writing! Dammed Pisanio
has, with his forged letters (damned Pisanio),
chopped off the main mast of the
best ship in the world! Oh Posthumus, alas,
where is your head? Where's that? Oh no! Where's that?
Pisanio could have run you through the heart,
and left your head on. Why have you done this, Pisanio?
It's him, and Cloten: evil and greed between them
have caused this sorrow here. Oh, it's obvious, obvious!
The drug he gave me, which he said was valuable
and would do me good, haven't I found it
knocks you unconscious? That proves it all:
this was done by Pisanio and Cloten–oh!
Give my pale cheeks some colour with your blood,
so that we can seem more terrible to those
who happened to find us. Oh, my lord! My lord!
CAPTAIN.
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.
Added to them are the French legions,
which have crossed the sea according to your orders, waiting
for you here at Milford Haven; they are all ready,
so are your ships.
LUCIUS.
But what from Rome?
But what's been heard from Rome?
CAPTAIN.
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 Iachimo,
Sienna's brother.
The Senate has aroused the people
and gentlemen of Italy, very willing souls,
who promised to do well; and they are coming
under the leadership of brave Iachimo,
the brother of Sienna.
LUCIUS.
When expect you them?
When do you expect them?
CAPTAIN.
With the next benefit o' th' wind.
With the next favourable wind.
LUCIUS.
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?
These preparations
make our chances look good. Order the forces we have at present
on parade; tell the captains to see to it. Now, sir,
what dreams have you had recently about the outcome of this war?
SOOTHSAYER.
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 spongy 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.
Last night the true gods gave me a vision–
I fasted and prayed for their assistance-which was this:
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman Eagle, flying
from the soft south to this part of the West,
where it vanished in the sunbeams; which predicts,
unless my foresight is clouded by my sins,
that the Roman army will win.
LUCIUS.
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?
<
br /> 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.
Have this dream often,
and let it be true. Stop, what's this! What's this body
without a head? The remains show that once
it was a good man. What? A page?
Is he dead or sleeping on him? No, he's dead;
it would be unnatural to lie down
with the deceased, or to sleep on the dead.
Let me see the boy's face.
CAPTAIN.
He's alive, my lord.
He's alive, my lord.
LUCIUS.
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 wreck? How came't? Who is't? What art thou?
Then he'll tell us about this body. Young one,
tell us what's happened to you; it seems
the tale must be told. Who is this
that you're using as a bloody pillow? And who was he
that has made an unnatural alteration
to the fair sight of him? What do you have to do
with this awful business? What happened? Who is it? Who are you?
IMOGEN.
I am nothing; or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton 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.
I am nothing; or if I'm not,
I‘d be better off if I was. This was my master,
a very brave Briton and a good one,
that lives here killed by outlaws. Alas!
There are no masters like this left. I could wander
from East to West, crying out for a job;
I could try working for many good men; I could serve truly and
I would never find another master like this.
LUCIUS.
'Lack, good youth!
Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
Alas, good youth!
Your sorrow is just as sad to see as
the sight of your bloody master. Tell me his name, good friend.
IMOGEN.
Richard du Champ. [Aside] If I do lie, and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
They'll pardon it.- Say you, sir?
Richard du Champ.[Aside] If I lie, and do
no harm through it, I hope the gods will pardon it
if they hear.–What did you say, sir?
LUCIUS.
Thy name?
What's your name?
IMOGEN.
Fidele, sir.
Fidele, sir.
LUCIUS.
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.
You have shown that's just what you are;
your name suits your loyalty, your loyalty your name.
Will you come and serve me? I won't say
that I can be such a good master; but, I can assure you,
you will be just as loved. If I had orders from
the Roman emperor, sent to me by a consul, they wouldn't
influence me more than your own goodness. Come with me.
IMOGEN.
I'll follow, sir. But first, an'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.
I'll come, sir. But first, if the gods allow,
I'll hide my master away from the flies, as deep
as these rough pickaxes can dig; and when
I have covered his grave with wild wood leaves and weeds,
and said a hundred of what prayers I can,
twice over, I'll weep and sigh;
and then I'll leave his service to follow you,
if you're kind enough to welcome me.
LUCIUS.
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 is 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.
Exeunt
I will, good youth;
and I'll be more of a father than a master to you.
My friends,
this boy has shown us what men should do; let us
find the prettiest flower covered spot we can,
and dig him a grave with our spears and
halberds. Give him weapons. Boy, he is
most important to you, and he shall be given
a soldier's burial. Be happy, wipe your eyes:
sometimes good can come out of evil.
Enter CYMBELINE, LORDS, PISANIO, and attendants
CYMBELINE.
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,
The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen
Upon a desperate bed, and in a time
When fearful wars point at me; her son gone,
So needful for this present. It strikes me past
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure and
Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
By a sharp torture.
Go back! And bring me word of how she is.
Exit an attendant
The absence ofher son has made her ill;
it's an insanity, which threatens her life. Gods,
how much you load on me all at once! Imogen,
the thing that made me most happy, gone; my Queen
lying desperately ill, and at a time
when terrible wars are threatened; her son is gone,
whom we so needed at this time. It all hits me
too hard to hope for happiness. But as for you, fellow,
who must certainly know where she went and
pretends to be so ignorant, we'll get it out of you
with some harsh torture.
PISANIO.
Sir, my life is yours;
I humbly set it at your will; but for my mistress,
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your Highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.
Sir, my life is yours;
you can do what you like with it; but as for my mistress,
I don't kn
ow where she is, why she left,
nor when she intends to return. I beg your Highness
to regard me as your loyal servant.
LORD.
Good my liege,
The day that she was missing he was here.
I dare be bound he's true and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten,
There wants no diligence in seeking him,
And will no doubt be found.
My good lord,
the day she went missing he was here.
I'll swear that he is loyal and will carry out
his service truly. As for Cloten,
every effort is being made to look for him,
and no doubt he will be found.
CYMBELINE.
The time is troublesome.
[To PISANIO] We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy
Does yet depend.
These are hard times.
I shall pardon you for a while; but my suspicions
remain in the balance.
LORD.
So please your Majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast, with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen by the Senate sent.
If you please, your Majesty,
the Roman legions from France
have landed on your coast, along with a force
of Roman gentlemen sent by the Senate.
CYMBELINE.
Now for the counsel of my son and queen!
I am amaz'd with matter.
Now is the time I would need the advice of my son and Queen!
I am overwhelmed by all this business.
LORD.
Good my liege,
Your preparation can affront no less
Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you're ready.
The want is but to put those pow'rs in motion
That long to move.
My good lord,
you have forces ready
which can match them. If more come, you're ready for more.
All that's needed is to unleash the army,
who are longing to fight.
CYMBELINE.
I thank you. Let's withdraw,
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 514