Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest What art thou? : Imo. 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! Luc. 'Lack, good youth! Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining, than Luc. Thy name? Imo. Fidele. [Aside. Luc. 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. Imo. 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 have 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. Luc. Ay, good youth; And rather father thee, than master thee.-- The boy hath taught us manly duties: Let us And make him with our pikes and partizans [9] To do a picture, and a picture is well done, are standing phrases; the question therefore is, Who has altered this picture, so as to make it otherwise than nature did it. JOHNSON. A grave: Come, arm him.'-Boy, he is preferr'd As soldiers can, Some falls are means the happier to arise. SCENE III. [Exeunt. A Room in CYMBELINE's Palace. Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, and PISANIO. Cym. Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with her. A fever with the absence of her son; A madness, of which her life's in danger :-) When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, Pis. Sir, my life is yours, I humbly set it at your will: But, for my mistress, Nor when she purposes return. 'Beseech your highness, 1 Lord. Good my liege, The day that she was missing, he was here: I dare be bound he's true, and shall perform For Cloten, There wants no diligence in seeking him, And will, no doubt, be found. Cym. The time's troublesome : We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy, [To Pis. Does yet depend.3 1 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. Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and queen! I am amaz'd with matter. [2] That is, take him up in your arms. HANMER. [8] My suspicion is yet undetermined; if I do not condemn you, I likewise have not acquitted you. We now say, the cause is depending. JOHNSON. 1 Lord. Good my liege, Your preparation can affront no less Than what you hear of [ready : come more, for more you're The want is, but to put those powers in motion, 'That long to move. Cym. I thank you : Let's withdraw : And meet the time, as it seeks us. We fear not Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since [Exeunt. The heavens still must work : Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be true. These present wars shall find I love my country, Even to the note o'the king, or I'll fall in them. All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd : Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steer'd. SCENE IV. [Exit. Before the Cave. Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVI RAGUS. Gui. The noise is round about us. Bel. Let us from it. Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it From action and adventure ? Gui. Nay, what hope Have we in hiding us; this way, the Romans Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us For barbarous and unnatural revolts During their use, and slay us after. Bel. Sons, We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us. Of Cloton's death (we being not known, not muster'd Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us that [4] Your forces are able to face such an army as we hear the enemy will bring against us. JOHNSON. [5] An account of our place of abode. This dialogue is a just representation of the superfluous caution of an old-man. 12 JOHNSON. Which we have done, whose answer would be death Drawn out with torture. Gui. This is, sir, a doubt, In such a time, nothing becoming you, Nor satisfying us. Arv. It is not likely, That when they hear the Roman horses neigh, Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes That they will waste their time upon our note, Bel. O, I am known Of many in the army: many years, Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him Gui. Than be so, Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army: Arv. By this sun that shines, I'll thither: What thing is it, that I never A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel To look upon the holy sun, to have If Gui. By heavens, I'll go : you will bless me, sir, and give me leave, I'll take the better care; but if you will not, The hazard therefore due fall on me, by The hands of Romans ! Arv. So say I; Amen. Bel. No reason I, since on your lives you set So slight a valuation, should reserve My crack'd one to more care Have with you, boys: If in your country wars you chance to die, That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie : Lead, lead. The time seems long; their blood thinks Till it fly out, and show them princes born. ACT V. [Aside. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-A Field between the British and Roman Camps. Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody Handkerchief. Post. YEA, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee: for I wish'd Thou shouldst be colour'd thus." You married ones, If each of you would take this course, how many Must murder wives much better than themselves, For wrying but a little ?-O, Pisanio! Every good servant does not all commands : No bond, but to do just ones.-Gods! if you Should have ta en vengeance on my faults, I never Had liv'd to put on this : so had you saved The noble Imogen to repent; and struck Me wretch, more worth your vengeance. But, alack. You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love, To have them fall no more: you some permit To second ills with ills, each elder worse ;9 And make them dread it to the doers' thrift.' But Imogen is your own: Do your best wills, And make me bless'd to obey!-I am brought hither [6] The bloody token of Imogen's death, which Pisanio in the foregoing act determined to send. JOHNSON. [7]-This is a soliloquy of nature, uttered when the effervescence of a mind agitated and perturbed, spontaneously and inadvertently discharges itself in words. The speech, throughout all its tenor, if the last conceit be excepted, seems to issue warm from the heart. He first condemns his own violence; then tries to disburden himself, by imputing part of the crime to Pisanio; he next sooths his mind to an artificial and momentary tranquility by trying to think that he has been only an instrument of the gods for the happiness of Imogen. He is now grown reasonable enough to determine, that having done so much evil he will do no more; that he will not fight against the country which he has already injured; but as life is not longer supportable, he will die in a just cause, and die with the obscurity of a man who does not think himself worthy to be remembered. [8] To put on---is to incite, to instigate. JOHNSON. JOHNSON. [9] The last deed is certainly not the oldest, but Shakespeare calls the deed of an elder man an elder deed. JOHNSON. [1] "Some you snatch from hence for little faults; others you suffer to heap ills on ills, and afterwards make them dread their having done so, to the eternal welfare of the doers." M. MASON. |