Cymbeline
 Act 4, Scene 2

Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN
Enter CLOTEN
Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS
Exeunt, fighting
Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS
Re-enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN’S head
Re-enter GUIDERIUS
Re-enter Arviragus, with Imogen, as dead, bearing her in his arms
Exit BELARIUS
Re-enter Belarius, with the body of Cloten
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 of CLOTEN
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 judgments, blind. Good faith,
I tremble stiff 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 imagined, 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,
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
Exeunt
Cymbeline

Cymbeline

This is the willshake edition of Cymbeline, a play written by William Shakespeare, probably some time between 1609 and 1610, when he was about 45 years old. timeline of Cymbeline
start

Listen to Cymbeline

Willshake doesn’t have any recordings of this. Sad face! If you know of any, let me know!

contact@willshake.net

about willshake

Project “willshake” is an ongoing effort to bring the beauty and pleasure of Shakespeare to new media.

Please report problems on the issue tracker. For anything else, contact@willshake.net


about

Shakespeare

An edition of the plays and poems of Shakespeare.

the works