Speeches (Lines) for Arviragus in "Cymbeline, King of Britain"

Guiderius. Hail, heaven!

Arviragus. Hail, heaven!

Guiderius. Out of your proof you speak: we, poor unfledged,
Have never wing'd from view o' the nest, nor know not
What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life be best; sweeter to you
That have a sharper known; well corresponding
With your stiff age: but unto us it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit.

Arviragus. What should we speak of
When we are old as you? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing;
We are beastly, subtle as the fox for prey,
Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat;
Our valour is to chase what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,
And sing our bondage freely.

Guiderius. I am thoroughly weary.

Arviragus. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

Guiderius. Money, youth?

Arviragus. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt!
As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.

Guiderius. Were you a woman, youth,
I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty,
I bid for you as I'd buy.

Arviragus. I'll make't my comfort
He is a man; I'll love him as my brother:
And such a welcome as I'd give to him
After long absence, such is yours: most welcome!
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.

Guiderius. Would I could free't!

Arviragus. Or I, whate'er it be,
What pain it cost, what danger. God's!

Guiderius. Pray, draw near.

Arviragus. The night to the owl and morn to the lark
less welcome.

Imogen. Thanks, sir.

Arviragus. I pray, draw near.

Belarius. [To IMOGEN] You are not well: remain here in the cave;
We'll come to you after hunting.

Arviragus. [To IMOGEN]. Brother, stay here
Are we not brothers?

Belarius. What! how! how!

Arviragus. If it be sin to say so, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault: I know not why
I love this youth; and I have heard you say,
Love's reason's without reason: the bier at door,
And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say
'My father, not this youth.'

Belarius. [Aside]. O noble strain!
O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness!
Cowards father cowards and base things sire base:
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
I'm not their father; yet who this should be,
Doth miracle itself, loved before me.
'Tis the ninth hour o' the morn.

Arviragus. Brother, farewell.

Imogen. I wish ye sport.

Arviragus. You health. So please you, sir.

Guiderius. I could not stir him:
He said he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.

Arviragus. Thus did he answer me: yet said, hereafter
I might know more.

Belarius. To the field, to the field!
We'll leave you for this time: go in and rest.

Arviragus. We'll not be long away.

Belarius. And shalt be ever.
[Exit IMOGEN, to the cave]
This youth, how'er distress'd, appears he hath had
Good ancestors.

Arviragus. How angel-like he sings!

Guiderius. But his neat cookery! he cut our roots
In characters,
And sauced our broths, as Juno had been sick
And he her dieter.

Arviragus. Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.

Guiderius. I do note
That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.

Arviragus. Grow, patience!
And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
His perishing root with the increasing vine!

Belarius. No companies abroad?

Arviragus. None in the world: you did mistake him, sure.

Belarius. I cannot tell: long is it since I saw him,
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour
Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice,
And burst of speaking, were as his: I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten.

Arviragus. In this place we left them:
I wish my brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell.

Belarius. No single soul
Can we set eye on; but in all safe reason
He must have some attendants. Though his humour
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse; not frenzy, not
Absolute madness could so far have raved
To bring him here alone; although perhaps
It may be heard at court that such as we
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
May make some stronger head; the which he hearing--
As it is like him--might break out, and swear
He'ld fetch us in; yet is't not probable
To come alone, either he so undertaking,
Or they so suffering: then on good ground we fear,
If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.

Arviragus. Let ordinance
Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er,
My brother hath done well.

Belarius. I fear 'twill be revenged:
Would, Polydote, thou hadst not done't! though valour
Becomes thee well enough.

Arviragus. Would I had done't
So the revenge alone pursued me! Polydore,
I love thee brotherly, but envy much
Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would revenges,
That possible strength might meet, would seek us through
And put us to our answer.

Belarius. Well, 'tis done:
We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Where there's no profit. I prithee, to our rock;
You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay
Till hasty Polydote return, and bring him
To dinner presently.

Arviragus. Poor sick Fidele!
I'll weringly to him: to gain his colour
I'ld let a parish of such Clotens' blood,
And praise myself for charity.

Belarius. Look, here he comes,
And brings the dire occasion in his arms
Of what we blame him for.
[Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN, as dead,]
bearing her in his arms]

Arviragus. The bird is dead
That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,
To have turn'd my leaping-time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.

Belarius. O melancholy!
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find
The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Might easiliest harbour in? Thou blessed thing!
Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,
Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.
How found you him?

Arviragus. Stark, as you see:
Thus smiling, as some fly hid tickled slumber,
Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at; his
right cheek
Reposing on a cushion.

Guiderius. Where?

Arviragus. O' the floor;
His arms thus leagued: I thought he slept, and put
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answer'd my steps too loud.

Guiderius. Why, he but sleeps:
If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come to thee.

Arviragus. With fairest flowers
Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell, like thy veins, no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the ruddock would,
With charitable bill,--O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!--bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none,
To winter-ground thy corse.

Guiderius. Prithee, have done;
And do not play in wench-like words with that
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt. To the grave!

Arviragus. Say, where shall's lay him?

Guiderius. By good Euriphile, our mother.

Arviragus. Be't so:
And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to the ground,
As once our mother; use like note and words,
Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.

Guiderius. Cadwal,
I cannot sing: I'll weep, and word it with thee;
For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.

Arviragus. We'll speak it, then.

Guiderius. Pray You, fetch him hither.
Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',
When neither are alive.

Arviragus. If you'll go fetch him,
We'll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.

Guiderius. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east;
My father hath a reason for't.

Arviragus. 'Tis true.

Guiderius. Come on then, and remove him.

Arviragus. So. Begin.

Guiderius. Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Arviragus. Fear no more the frown o' the great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Guiderius. Fear no more the lightning flash,

Arviragus. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;

Guiderius. Fear not slander, censure rash;

Arviragus. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:

Guiderius. No exorciser harm thee!

Arviragus. Nor no witchcraft charm thee!

Guiderius. Ghost unlaid forbear thee!

Arviragus. Nothing ill come near thee!

Belarius. Let us from it.

Arviragus. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it
From action and adventure?

Guiderius. This is, sir, a doubt
In such a time nothing becoming you,
Nor satisfying us.

Arviragus. It is not likely
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,
To know from whence we are.

Guiderius. Than be so
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army:
I and my brother are not known; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arviragus. By this sun that shines,
I'll thither: what thing is it that I never
Did see man die! scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison!
Never bestrid a horse, save one that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel! I am ashamed
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guiderius. By heavens, I'll go:
If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care, but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me by
The hands of Romans!

Arviragus. So say I. amen.

Belarius. Is not this boy revived from death?

Arviragus. One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?

Cymbeline. Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we?

Arviragus. In that he spake too far.

Belarius. We will die all three:
But I will prove that two on's are as good
As I have given out him. My sons, I must,
For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
Though, haply, well for you.

Arviragus. Your danger's ours.

Cymbeline. Did you e'er meet?

Arviragus. Ay, my good lord.

Cymbeline. Nobly doom'd!
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.

Arviragus. You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joy'd are we that you are.