Imagens das páginas

Who is thy grandfather he made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.
Cloten. Thou injurious thief,
Hear but my name, and tremble !
Guid. What's your name?
Cloten. Cloten, thou villain
Guid. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it; were’t toad, or adder, spider,
'Twould move me sooner.
Cloten. To thy further fear,
Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
I'm son to the Queen.
Guid. I'm sorry for't; not seeming
So worthy as thy birth.
Cloten. Art not afeard?
Guid. Those, that I reverence, those I fear; the
wise :
At fools I laugh, not fear them.
Cloten. Due the death :
When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
I'll follow those, that even now fled hence,
And on the gates of Lud's town set your heads:
Yield, rustic mountaineer [Ereunt, fighting.

Enter BELARIUs and ARVIRA gus.

Bel. No company's abroad. Arv. None in the world: You did mistake him, Sure. “ Bel. No; time has nothing blurr'd those lines of favour Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking, were as his: I am absolute, "Twas very Cloten. Arv. In this place we left them.— But see, my brother!

[ocr errors]


Guid. This Cloten was a fool; not Hercules Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none. Bel. What hast thou done? Guid. Cut off one Cloten's head, Son to the Queen, after his own report; Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer; and swore, With his own single hand he'd take us in, Displace our heads, where (thank the gods!) they row, And set them on Lud's town. Bel. We are all undone. Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, But, that he swore to take our lives The law Protects not us; then why should we be tender, To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us; Play judge, and executioner, all himself; For we do fear the law —What company Discover you abroad? Bel. No single soul Can we set eye on; but, in all safe reason, He must have some attendants; It is not probable he would come alone.— I had no mind To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness Did make my way long forth. Guid. With his own sword, Which he did wave against my throat, I’ve ta'en His head from him: I’ll throw’t into the creek Behind our rock; and let it to the sea, And tell the fishes, he's the Queen's son, Cloten: That's all I reck. [Erit. Bel. I fear, 'twill be revengd: 'Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done’t though valour Becomes thee well enough. Arv. 'Would I had done’tl

Bel. Well, 'tis done:—
We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Where there's no profit. I pr’ythee, to our rock;
You and Fidele play the cooks: I’l stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.

Arv. Poor sick Fidele !
I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour,
I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood,
And praise myself for charity. [Erit, into the Cave.

Bel. O, thou goddess,
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 : Yet still it's strange,
What Cloten's being here, to us portends;
Or what his death will bring us.

Enter GUIDeRius.

Guid. 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 in the Cave. Bel. My ingenious instrument!— Hark, Polydore! it sounds! But what occasion Hath Cadwal now to give it motion Hark! Guid. Is he at home Bel. He went hence even now. Guid. What does he mean? Since death of my dear'st mother,

It did not speak before. All solemn things
Should answer solemn accidents.

Enter ARVIRagus.

Bel. Look, here he comes! Arv. The bird is dead, - That we have made so much on. I had rather Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty, Than have seen this. Guid. O sweetest, fairest lily! And art thou gone, my poor Fidele Bel. What! is he dead How found you him?' " Arv. Stark:—smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at: his right cheek Reposing on a cushion. Guid. Where? Arv. O' the floor; His arms thus leagu'd : I thought, he slept. Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less: for Cloten Is o: forgot. He was a queen's son, boys; And, though he came our enemy, remember, He was paid for that: Our foe was princely; And though you took his life, as being our foe, Yet bury him as a prince. Go, bring your lily. [Ereunt GUIDERIUs and ARVIRAgus into the Cave. 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 mightst have made; but, ah | Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.

Enter GUIDERrus and ARVIRagus, from the Cave, bearing Imogen's Body.

Come, let us lay the bodies each by each,
And strew them o'er with flow'rs; and on the morrow
Shall the earth receive them.
Arv. Sweet Fidele!
Fear no more the heato’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter's blast;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
And the dream of life is past.
Guid. Monarchs, sages, peasants, must
Follow thee, and come to dust.
[Ereunt, bearing the Body.



Enter CYMBELINE, Second Lord, Pisa Nio, and |ATTEN DANTs.

Cym. Again; and bring me word, how the queen does. [Erit 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 searful 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.

« AnteriorContinuar »