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Cymbeline
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  • ACT V SCENE IV

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II 
     Act I   Scene III 
     Act I   Scene IV 
     Act I   Scene V 
     Act I   Scene VI 
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II 
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act II  Scene IV 
     Act II  Scene V 
     Act III Scene I 
     Act III Scene II 
    
    
     Act III Scene III 
     Act III Scene IV 
     Act III Scene V 
     Act III Scene VI 
     Act III Scene VII 
     Act IV  Scene I  
     Act IV  Scene II 
     Act IV  Scene III 
     Act IV  Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Act V   Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene V 
     Complete play
    


     Act V 

    
    ACT V: SCENE IV	A British prison.

    
    	Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and two Gaolers
    
    First Gaoler	You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;
    	So graze as you find pasture.
    
    Second Gaoler	Ay, or a stomach.
    
    	Exeunt Gaolers
    
    POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Most welcome, bondage! for thou art away,
    	think, to liberty: yet am I better
    	Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather
    	Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
    	By the sure physician, death, who is the key
    	To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd
    	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 constrain'd: 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 Imogen's dear life take mine; and though
    	'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd 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 Imogen!
    	I'll speak to thee in silence.
    
    	Sleeps
    
    	Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition,
    	SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus Leonatus,
    	an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in
    	his hand an ancient matron, his wife, and mother
    	to Posthumus Leonatus, with music before them:
    	then, after other music, follow the two young
    	Leonati, brothers to Posthumus Leonatus, with
    	wounds as they died in the wars. They circle
    	Posthumus Leonatus round, as he lies sleeping
    
    Sicilius Leonatus	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 stay'd
    	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 ript,
    	Came crying 'mongst his foes,
    	A thing of pity!
    
    Sicilius Leonatus	Great nature, like his ancestry,
    	Moulded the stuff so fair,
    	That he deserved the praise o' the world,
    	As great Sicilius' heir.
    
    First 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 Imogen, that best
    	Could deem his dignity?
    
    Mother	With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
    	To be exiled, and thrown
    	From Leonati seat, and cast
    	From her his dearest one,
    	Sweet Imogen?
    
    Sicilius Leonatus	Why did you suffer Iachimo,
    	Slight thing of Italy,
    	To taint his nobler heart and brain
    	With needless jealosy;
    	And to become the geck and scorn
    	O' th' other's villany?
    
    Second 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.
    
    First Brother	Like hardiment Posthumus hath
    	To Cymbeline perform'd:
    	Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
    	Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
    	The graces for his merits due,
    	Being all to dolours turn'd?
    
    Sicilius Leonatus	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 Leonatus	Peep through thy marble mansion; help;
    	Or we poor ghosts will cry
    	To the shining synod of the rest
    	Against thy deity.
    
    
    First Brother	|   Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,
    	|   And from thy justice fly.
    Second Brother	|
    
    
    	Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting
    	upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The
    	Apparitions 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 delay'd, delighted. Be content;
    	Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift:
    	His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
    	Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
    	Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade.
    	He shall be lord of lady Imogen,
    	And happier much by his affliction made.
    	This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
    	Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine:
    	and so, away: no further with your din
    	Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
    	Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
    
    	Ascends
    
    Sicilius Leonatus	He came in thunder; his celestial breath
    	Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle
    	Stoop'd 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 Leonatus	The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
    	His radiant root. Away! and, to be blest,
    	Let us with care perform his great behest.
    
    	The Apparitions vanish
    
    Posthumus Leonatus	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 steep'd 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. Be what it is,
    	The action of my life is like it, which
    	I'll keep, if but for sympathy.
    
    	Re-enter First Gaoler
    
    First Gaoler	Come, sir, are you ready for death?
    
    POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.
    
    First Gaoler	Hanging is the word, sir: if
    	you be ready for that, you are well cooked.
    
    POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	So, if I prove a good repast to the
    	spectators, the dish pays the shot.
    
    First 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
    	flint 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: 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 LEONATUS	I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
    
    First Gaoler	Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the
    	tooth-ache: 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 LEONATUS	Yes, indeed do I, fellow.
    
    First 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 do 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 LEONATUS	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.
    
    First 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 LEONATUS	Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.
    
    First Gaoler	I'll be hang'd then.
    
    POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
    
    	Exeunt POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and Messenger
    
    First 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.
    
    	Exeunt
    
    
    

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