Speeches (Lines) for Arviragus
in "Cymbeline"
Total: 46

1

III,3,1612

Hail, heaven!

2

III,3,1639

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.

3

III,6,2184

I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

4

III,6,2206

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

5

III,6,2228

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.

6

III,6,2242

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

7

III,6,2260

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

8

III,6,2263

I pray, draw near.

9

IV,2,2318

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

10

IV,2,2338

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.'

11

IV,2,2351

Brother, farewell.

12

IV,2,2353

You health. So please you, sir.

13

IV,2,2366

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

14

IV,2,2370

We'll not be long away.

15

IV,2,2379

How angel-like he sings!

16

IV,2,2384

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.

17

IV,2,2393

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

18

IV,2,2457

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

19

IV,2,2463

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

20

IV,2,2507

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

21

IV,2,2523

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.

22

IV,2,2535

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.

23

IV,2,2577

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.

24

IV,2,2592

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.

25

IV,2,2598

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.

26

IV,2,2606

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.

27

IV,2,2623

Say, where shall's lay him?

28

IV,2,2625

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.

29

IV,2,2634

We'll speak it, then.

30

IV,2,2648

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

31

IV,2,2653

'Tis true.

32

IV,2,2655

So. Begin.

33

IV,2,2663

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.

34

IV,2,2670

Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;

35

IV,2,2672

Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:

36

IV,2,2676

Nor no witchcraft charm thee!

37

IV,2,2678

Nothing ill come near thee!

38

IV,4,2885

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

39

IV,4,2903

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.

40

IV,4,2924

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.

41

IV,4,2939

So say I. amen.

42

V,5,3514

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

43

V,5,3749

In that he spake too far.

44

V,5,3756

Your danger's ours.

45

V,5,3835

Ay, my good lord.

46

V,5,3890

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