Re-enter BELARIUS, with the body of Cloten.
Gui. We have done our obsequies: Come lay him down.
Bel. Here's a few flowers; but about midnight,
The herbs, that have on them cold dew o'the night, Are strewings fitt'st for graves. - Upon their faces:- You were as flowers, now wither'd: even so These herb'lets shall, which we upon you strow.- 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 Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Imo. [Awaking.] Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven; Which is the way?-
I thank you.- By yon bush?-Pray, how far thither? 'Ods pittikins!-can it be six miles yet?- I have gone all night :-'Faith, I'll lie down and sleep. But, soft! no bedfellow: - O, gods and goddesses!
These flowers 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 judgements, blind, Good
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 his leg: this is his hand; His foot Mercurial; his Martial thigh; The brawns of Hercules: but his Jovial face 53- 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, Hast 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! Ah me! where's
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 the senses? That confirms it home: This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: 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!
Enter Lucius, a Captain, and other, Officers, and a Soothsayer.
Cap. 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 here in readiness.
Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the cónfiners,
And gentlemen of Italy; most willing spirits, That promise noble service: and they come
Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,
When expect you them?
Cap. With the next benefit o'the wind. Luc.
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?
Sooth. 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 spungy south to this part of the west, There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends, (Unless my sins abuse my divination,)
Success to the Roman host.
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!-
« PředchozíPokračovat » |