Act 5, Scene 4

A British prison.
Enter Posthumus 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 Most welcome, bondage! for thou art away, 
I think, to liberty: yet am I better 
Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather  5
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,  10
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,  15
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  20
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:  25
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 No more, thou thunder-master, show 30
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, 35
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, 40
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, 45
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity!

 
Sicilius Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,
That he deserved the praise o' the world, 50
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 55
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 60
From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen?

 
Sicilius Why did you suffer Iachimo,
Slight thing of Italy,
To taint his nobler heart and brain 65
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, 70
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 75
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? 80

 
Sicilius 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, 85
Take off his miseries.

 
Sicilius Peep through thy marble mansion; help;
Or we poor ghosts will cry
To the shining synod of the rest
Against thy deity. 90

 
Brothers 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, 95
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. 100
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 105
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: 110
and so, away: no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
Ascends
Sicilius He came in thunder; his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle 115
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 The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd 120
His radiant root. Away! and, to be blest,
Let us with care perform his great behest.
The Apparitions vanish
Posthumus [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! 125
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, 130
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 135
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, 140
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; 145
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  Gaoler
Gaoler Come, sir, are you ready for death? 150

 
Posthumus Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.

 
Gaoler Hanging is the word, sir: if you
be ready for that, you are well cooked.

 
Posthumus So, if I prove a good repast to the 
spectators, the dish pays the shot. 155

 
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 160
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 165
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 I am merrier to die than thou art to live. 170

 
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. 175

 
Posthumus Yes, indeed do I, fellow.

 
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 180
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 I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to
direct them the way I am going, but such as wink and 185
will not use them.

 
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. 190

 
Posthumus Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.

 
Gaoler I'll be hang'd then.

 
Posthumus Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts
 for the dead.
Exeunt Posthumus and Messenger
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.
Exeunt