The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/27/05_04

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 10KB | 266 lines

An open Place near the British Camp.
 Enter POSTHUMUS and 1st and 2nd GAOLERS.

1st Gaoler    [Chaining POSTHUMUS to a post.]
    You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;
    So graze, as you find pasture.

2nd Gaoler                                        Ay, or a stomach.
                                                    [Exeunt GAOLERS.
Posthumus    Most welcome, bondage, for thou art a way,
    I think, to liberty. Yet am I better
    Than one that's sick o'th' gout, since he had rather
    Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
    By th' sure physician Death, who is the key
    To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fettered
    More than my shanks and wrists. You good gods, give me
    The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
    Then - free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry?
    So children temporal fathers do appease;
    Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent,
    I cannot do it better than in gyves,
    Desired more than constrained. To satisfy,
    If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
    No stricter render of me than my all.
    I know you are more clement than vile men
    Who of their broken debtors take a third,
    A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
    On their abatement; that's not my desire.
    For Innogen's dear life take mine, and though
    'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coined it.
    'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
    Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake;
    You rather mine, being yours. And so, great powers,
    If you will take this audit, take this life,
    And cancel these cold bonds. O Innogen,
    I'll speak to thee in silence.
                                                    [Sleeps.
                              Solemn music.
Enter, as in an apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus, an old
    man attired like a warrior, leading in his hand an ancient matron,
        his wife, and MOTHER to Posthumus, with music before them.

          Then, after other music, follow the two young Leonati,
       BROTHERS to Posthumus, with wounds as they died in the wars.
             They circle Posthumus round as he lies sleeping.

Sicilius            No more, thou thunder-master, show
                Thy spite on mortal flies;
            With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
                That thy adulteries
            Rates and revenges.
            Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
                Whose face I never saw?
            I died whilst in the womb he stayed
                Attending nature's law;
            Whose father then - as men report
                Thou orphans' father art-
            Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
                From this earth-vexing smart.

Mother            Lucina lent not me her aid,
                But took me in my throes,
            That from me was Posthumus ripped,
                Came crying 'mongst his foes,
            A thing of pity.

Sicilius            Great nature like his ancestry
                Moulded the stuff so fair
            That he deserved the praise o'th' world
                As great Sicilius' heir.

1st Brother            When once he was mature for man,
                In Britain where was he
            That could stand up his parallel,
                Or fruitful object be
            In eye of Innogen, that best
                Could deem his dignity?

Mother            With marriage wherefore was he mocked,
                To be exiled, and thrown
            From Leonati seat, and cast
                From her his dearest one,
            Sweet Innogen?

Sicilius            Why did you suffer Iachimo,
                Slight thing of Italy,
            To taint his nobler heart and brain
                With needless jealousy,
            And to become the geck and scorn
                O'th' other's villainy?

2nd Brother            For this from stiller seats we came,
                Our parents and us twain
            That striking in our country's cause
                Fell bravely, and were slain:
            Our fealty and Tenantius' right
                With honour to maintain.

1st Brother            Like hardiment Posthumus hath
                To Cymbeline performed;
            Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
                Why hast thou thus adjourned
            The graces for his merits due,
                Being all to dolours turned?

Sicilius            Thy crystal window ope; look out;
                No longer exercise
            Upon a valiant race thy harsh
                And potent injuries.

Mother            Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
                Take off his miseries.

Sicilius            Peep through thy marble mansion; help,
                Or we poor ghosts will cry
            To th' shining synod of the rest
                Against thy deity.

Both Brothers            Help, Jupiter, or we appeal,
                And from thy justice fly.

    JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle.
         He throws a thunderbolt. The GHOSTS fall on their knees.

Jupiter            No more, you petty spirits of region low,
                Offend our hearing. Hush! How dare you ghosts
            Accuse the thunderer whose bolt, you know,
                Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
            Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest
                Upon your never-withering banks of flowers.
            Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
                No care of yours it is, you know 'tis ours.
            Whom best I love I cross, to make my gift,
                The more delayed, delighted. Be content,
            Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift;
                His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent;
            Our Jovial star reigned at his birth, and in
                Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade.
            He shall be lord of lady Innogen,
                And happier much by his affliction made.
            This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
                Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine.
                                                    [Gives a book.
            And so away; no further with your din
                Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
                Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
                                                    [Ascends.

Sicilius            He came in thunder; his celestial breath
            Was sulphurous to smell; the holy eagle
            Stooped, as to foot us; his ascension is
            More sweet than our blest fields; his royal bird
            Prunes the immortal wing and cloys his beak,
            As when his god is pleased.

All                                            Thanks, Jupiter!

Sicilius            The marble pavement closes, he is entered
            His radiant roof. Away! And, to be blest,
            Let us with care perform his great behest.
                [The GHOSTS lay the book on Posthumus, and vanish.

Posthumus    [Waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire and begot
    A father to me; and thou hast created
    A mother and two brothers. But, O scorn,
    Gone! They went hence so soon as they were born;
    And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend
    On greatness' favour dream as I have done,
    Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve;
    Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
    And yet are steeped in favours; so am I,
    That have this golden chance and know not why.
    What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one,
    Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
    Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects
    So follow to be most unlike our courtiers,
    As good as promise.

    [Reads.]    "When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown,
    without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender
    air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches
    which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be
    jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall
    Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and
    flourish in peace and plenty."

    'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen
    Tongue, and brain not; either both, or nothing,
    Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
    As sense cannot untie. But what it is,
    The action of my life is like it, which
    I'll keep, if but for sympathy.

                            Re-enter GAOLERS.

1st Gaoler    Come, sir, are you ready for death?

Posthumus    Overroasted rather; ready long ago.

1st Gaoler    Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are
    well cooked.

Posthumus    So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish
    pays the shot.

1st Gaoler    A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is you
    shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern
    bills, which are often the sadness of parting, as the
    procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of meat,
    depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have
    paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse
    and brain both empty; the brain the heavier for being too
    light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: O, of
    this contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the charity of
    a penny cord! It sums up thousands in a trice. You have no
    true debitor and creditor but it - of what's past, is, and
    to come, the discharge. Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and
    counters; so the acquittance follows.

Posthumus    I am merrier to die than thou art to live.

1st Gaoler    Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a
    man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help
    him to bed, I think he would change places with his
    officer; for look you, sir, you know not which way you
    shall go.

Posthumus    Yes indeed do I, fellow.

1st Gaoler    Your death has eyes in's head, then. I have not seen him so
    pictured. You must either be directed by some that take
    upon them to know, or to take upon yourself that which I am
    sure you do not know, or jump the after-inquiry on your own
    peril; and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I
    think you'll never return to tell one.

Posthumus    I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct
    them the way I am going, but such as wink and will not use
    them.

1st Gaoler    What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the
    best use of eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure
    hanging's the way of winking.

                            Enter A MESSENGER.

Messenger    Knock off his manacles, bring your prisoner to the king.

Posthumus    Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.

1st Gaoler    I'll be hanged then.

Posthumus    Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the
    dead.
                                                [Exeunt all but 1st GAOLER.

1st Gaoler    Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets,
    I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are
    verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman; and
    there be some of them too, that die against their wills. So
    should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind,
    and one  mind good. O, there were desolation of gaolers and
    gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but my wish
    hath a preferment in't.
                                                    [Exit.