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, Conspired 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? 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 Murderous 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!
Falls on the body Enter LUCIUS, a Captain and other Officers, and a Soothsayer Captain To them the legions garrison'd in Gailia, After your will, have cross'd the sea, attending You here at Milford-Haven with your ships:
They are in readiness. CAIUS 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, Syenna's brother. CAIUS LUCIUS When expect you them? Captain With the next benefit o' the wind. CAIUS 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 the Roman host. CAIUS 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. CAIUS 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 makest 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 it? Who is it?
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. CAIUS LUCIUS 'Lack, good youth!
Thou movest 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? CAIUS LUCIUS Thy name? IMOGEN Fidele, sir. CAIUS 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 beloved. 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. CAIUS 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.
