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。 ARVIRAGUS。 We'll speak it； 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。 GUIDERIUS。 Pray you fetch him hither。 Thersites'
body is as good as Ajax'； When neither are alive。 ARVIRAGUS。 If you'll
go fetch him； We'll say our song the whilst。 Brother； begin。 Exit
BELARIUS GUIDERIUS。 Nay； Cadwal； we must lay his head to th' East；
My father hath a reason for't。 ARVIRAGUS。 'Tis true。 GUIDERIUS。
Come on； then； and remove him。 ARVIRAGUS。 So。 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。
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。
GUIDERIUS。 Fear no more the lightning flash； ARVIRAGUS。 Nor th' all…
dreaded thunder…stone； GUIDERIUS。 Fear not slander； censure rash；
ARVIRAGUS。 Thou hast finish'd joy and moan。 BOTH。 All lovers young；
all lovers must Consign to thee and come to dust。
GUIDERIUS。 No exorciser harm thee！ ARVIRAGUS。 Nor no
witchcraft charm thee！ GUIDERIUS。 Ghost unlaid forbear thee！
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ARVIRAGUS。 Nothing ill come near thee！ BOTH。 Quiet consummation
have； And renowned be thy grave！
Re…enter BELARIUS with the body of CLOTEN
GUIDERIUS。 We have done our obsequies。 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 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。
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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
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。 LUCIUS。 But what 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。 LUCIUS。 When expect you them？
CAPTAIN。 With the next benefit o' th' 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？ 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。 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？ 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。 CAPTAIN。 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？ 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。
LUCIUS。 'Lack； good youth！ Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining
than Thy master in bleeding。 Say his name； good friend。 IMOGEN。
Richard du Champ。 ＇Aside＇ If I do lie； and do No harm by it； though the
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gods hear； I hope They'll pardon it。… Say you； sir？ LUCIUS。 Thy name？
IMOGEN。 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。 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。 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
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SCENE III。 Britain。 CYMBELINE'S palace
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。 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。 LOR