Читать книгу William Shakespeare: Complete Works - William Shakespeare - Страница 121

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!

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.

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 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