Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Jennifer Forsyth
Peer Reviewed

Cymbeline (Modern)


[1.7]

Enter Imogen alone
Imogen A father cruel and a stepdame false,
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady
595That hath her husband banished -- oh, that husband,
My supreme crown of grief, and those repeated
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stolen
As my two brothers, happy; but most miserable
Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those,
600How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie!
Enter Pisanio and Iachimo
Pisanio Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome
Comes from my lord with letters.
605Iachimo
Change you, madam:
The worthy Leonatus is in safety
And greets Your Highness dearly.
Imogen
Thanks, good sir;
You're kindly welcome.
610Iachimo [Aside] All of her that is out of door, most rich;
If she be furnished with a mind so rare,
She is alone th'Arabian bird, and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness, be my friend;
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot,
615Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight --
Rather, directly fly.
[Gives a letter]
Imogen Reads
He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your 620trust.
Leonatus
So far I read aloud.
But even the very middle of my heart
Is warmed by th'rest, and takes it thankfully.
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
625Have words to bid you, and shall find it so
In all that I can do.
Iachimo
Thanks, fairest lady.
What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch and the rich crop
630Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinned stones
Upon th'unnumbered beach, and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
'Twixt fair and foul?
635Imogen
What makes your admiration?
Iachimo It cannot be i'th' eye, for apes and monkeys
'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and
Condemn with mows the other; nor i'th' judgment,
For idiots in this case of favor would
640Be wisely definite; nor i'th' appetite:
Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed
Should make desire vomit emptiness,
Not so allured to feed.
Imogen
What is the matter, trow?
645Iachimo
The cloyèd will,
That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub
Both filled and running, ravening first the lamb,
Longs after for the garbage.
Imogen
What, dear sir,
650Thus raps you? Are you well?
Iachimo
Thanks, madam, well. -- [To Pisanio]
Beseech you, sir, desire my man's abode,
Where I did leave him; he's strange and peevish.
Pisanio I was going, sir, 655to give him welcome.
Exit
Imogen Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you?
Iachimo Well, madam.
Imogen Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.
660Iachimo Exceeding pleasant. None a stranger there
So merry and so gamesome; he is called
The Briton Reveler.
Imogen
When he was here
He did incline to sadness and oft-times
665Not knowing why.
Iachimo
I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that it seems much loves
A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces
670The thick sighs from him whiles the jolly Briton,
Your lord I mean, laughs from's free lungs, cries, "Oh,
Can my sides hold, to think that man who knows
By history, report, or his own proof
What woman is -- yea, what she cannot choose
675But must be, will's free hours languish for
Assurèd bondage?"
Imogen
Will my lord say so?
Iachimo Aye, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter.
It is a recreation to be by
680And hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens know
Some men are much to blame.
Imogen
Not he, I hope.
Iachimo Not he; but yet Heaven's bounty towards him might
685Be used more thankfully. In himself 'tis much;
In you, which I account his, beyond all talents.
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pity too.
Imogen
What do you pity, sir?
690Iachimo
Two creatures heartily.
Imogen
Am I one, sir?
You look on me. What wrack discern you in me
Deserves your pity?
Iachimo
Lamentable! What,
695To hide me from the radiant sun and solace
I'th' dungeon by a snuff?
Imogen
I pray you, sir,
Deliver with more openness your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?
700Iachimo That others do --
I was about to say, "enjoy your --" but
It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on't.
Imogen
You do seem to know
705Something of me or what concerns me; pray you,
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be sure they do (for certainties
Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing,
The remedy then borne), discover to me
710What both you spur and stop.
Iachimo
Had I this cheek
To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whose every touch would force the feeler's soul
To th' oath of loyalty; this object, which
715Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Firing it only here; should I, damned then,
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol, join grips with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood (falsehood as
720With labor), then by-peeping in an eye
Base and illustrous as the smoky light
That's fed with stinking tallow, it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.
725Imogen
My lord, I fear,
Has forgot Britain.
Iachimo
And himself. Not I
Inclined to this intelligence pronounce
The beggary of his change, but 'tis your graces
730That from my mutest conscience to my tongue
Charms this report out.
Imogen
Let me hear no more.
Iachimo O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart
With pity that doth make me sick. A lady
735So fair and fastened to an empery
Would make the great'st king double, to be partnered
With tomboys hired with that self exhibition
Which your own coffers yield; with diseased ventures
That play with all infirmities for gold
740Which rottenness can lend Nature. Such boiled stuff
As well might poison poison. Be revenged,
Or she that bore you was no queen and you
Recoil from your great stock.
Imogen Revenged?
745How should I be revenged? If this be true --
As I have such a heart, that both mine ears
Must not in haste abuse -- if it be true,
How should I be revenged?
Iachimo
Should he make me
750Live like Diana's priest betwixt cold sheets
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps
In your despite, upon your purse -- revenge it.
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed,
755And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.
Imogen
What ho, Pisanio?
Iachimo Let me my service tender on your lips.
Imogen Away! I do condemn mine ears that have
760So long attended thee. If thou wert honorable,
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seekst, as base as strange.
Thou wrongst a gentleman who is as far
From thy report as thou from honor, and
765Solicits here a lady that disdains
Thee and the devil alike. -- What ho, Pisanio? --
The King my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit
A saucy stranger in his court to mart
770As in a Romish stew and to expound
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
He little cares for and a daughter who
He not respects at all. What ho, Pisanio?
Iachimo O happy Leonatus, I may say,
775The credit that thy lady hath of thee
Deserves thy trust; and thy most perfect goodness,
Her assured credit. Blessed live you long,
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
Country called his, and you his mistress, only
780For the most worthiest fit. Give me your pardon.
I have spoke this to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord
That which he is, new o'er; and he is one
The truest mannered, such a holy witch
785That he enchants societies into him;
Half all men's hearts are his.
Imogen
You make amends.
Iachimo He sits 'mongst men like a descended god;
He hath a kind of honor sets him off
790More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
Most mighty princess, that I have adventured
To try your taking of a false report, which hath
Honored with confirmation your great judgment
In the election of a sir so rare,
795Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him
Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you,
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray your pardon.
Imogen All's well, sir; take my power i'th' court for yours.
800Iachimo My humble thanks. I had almost forgot
T'entreat Your Grace but in a small request,
And yet of moment too, for it concerns:
Your lord, myself, and other noble friends
Are partners in the business.
805Imogen
Pray what is't?
Iachimo Some dozen Romans of us and your lord,
The best feather of our wing, have mingled sums
To buy a present for the emperor,
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
810In France. 'Tis plate of rare device and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great,
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in safe stowage. May it please you
To take them in protection?
815Imogen
Willingly,
And pawn mine honor for their safety; since
My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them
In my bedchamber.
Iachimo
They are in a trunk
820Attended by my men. I will make bold
To send them to you, only for this night;
I must aboard tomorrow.
Imogen
Oh, no, no.
Iachimo Yes, I beseech, or I shall short my word
825By length'ning my return. From Gallia,
I crossed the seas on purpose and on promise
To see Your Grace.
Imogen
I thank you for your pains,
But not away tomorrow.
830Iachimo
Oh, I must, madam;
Therefore, I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do't tonight.
I have outstood my time, which is material
To th' tender of our present.
835Imogen
I will write.
Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept
And truly yielded you. You're very welcome.
Exeunt