SCENE IV. A British prison. Cymbeline  Shakespeare homepage  |  Cymbeline  | Act 5, Scene 4 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  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  Second Brother  Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, 

 And from thy justice fly. 



 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. 



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