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Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Jennifer Forsyth
Peer Reviewed

Cymbeline (Modern)

[5.4]
Enter Cymbeline, Belarius [as Morgan], Guiderius [as Polydore], Arviragus [as Cadwal], Pisanio, and Lords
3250Cymbeline
Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast
Stepped before targes of proof, cannot be found.
3255He shall be happy that can find him if
Our grace can make him so.
Belarius
I never saw
Such noble fury in so poor a thing,
Such precious deeds in one that promised nought
3260But beggary and poor looks.
Cymbeline
No tidings of him?
Pisanio
He hath been searched among the dead and living,
But no trace of him.
Cymbeline [To Guiderius, Arviragus, and Belarius]
To my grief, I am
3265The heir of his reward, which I will add
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
By whom, I grant, she lives. 'Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are. Report it.
Belarius
Sir,
3270In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen;
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add we are honest.
Cymbeline
Bow your knees.
Arise, my knights o'th' battle; I create you
3275Companions to our person and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.
Enter Cornelius and Ladies
There's business in these faces. Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? You look like Romans
3280And not o'th' court of Britain.
Cornelius
Hail, great King.
To sour your happiness, I must report
The Queen is dead.
Cymbeline
Who worse than a physician
3285Would this report become? But I consider:
By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
Cornelius
With horror, madly dying, like her life,
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
3290Most cruel to herself. What she confessed
I will report, so please you. These her women
Can trip me, if I err, who with wet cheeks
Were present when she finished.
Cymbeline
Prithee, say.
3295Cornelius
First, she confessed she never loved you; only
Affected greatness got by you, not you;
Married your royalty, was wife to your place,
Abhorred your person.
Cymbeline
She alone knew this,
3300And but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
Cornelius
Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight, whose life,
3305But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.
Cymbeline
O most delicate fiend!
Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?
Cornelius
More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
3310For you a mortal mineral, which being took
Should by the minute feed on life and, lingering,
By inches waste you, in which time she purposed
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her show, and in time,
3315When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
Her son into th'adoption of the crown;
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless desperate; opened, in despite
Of Heaven and men, her purposes; repented
3320The evils she hatched were not effected; so
Despairing, died.
Cymbeline
Heard you all this, her women?
Lady
We did, so please Your Highness.
Cymbeline
Mine eyes
3325Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears that heard her flattery, nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious
To have mistrusted her; yet, o my daughter,
That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,
3330And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all.
Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and other Roman prisoners, Posthumus behind, and Imogen [as Fidele]
Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
The Britains have rased out, though with the loss
3335Of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made suit
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
Of you their captives, which ourself have granted,
So think of your estate.
Lucius
Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
3340Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have threatened
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be called ransom, let it come; sufficeth,
3345A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer.
Augustus lives to think on't, and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransomed. Never master had
3350A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like; let his virtue join
With my request, which I'll make bold Your Highness
Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm,
3355Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
Cymbeline
I have surely seen him;
His favor is familiar to me. Boy,
Thou hast looked thyself into my grace
3360And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,
To say live, boy. Ne'er thank thy master; live,
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it --
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner
3365The noblest ta'en.
Imogen
I humbly thank Your Highness.
Lucius
I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,
And yet I know thou wilt.
[Imogen sees Iachimo wearing Posthumus' ring.]
Imogen
No, no, alack,
3370There's other work in hand. I see a thing
Bitter to me as death; your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself.
Lucius [Aside]
The boy disdains me;
He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
3375That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplexed?
Cymbeline
What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What's best to ask. Knowst him thou lookst on? Speak:
3380Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? Thy friend?
Imogen
He is a Roman, no more kin to me
Than I to Your Highness, who, being born your vassal,
Am something nearer.
Cymbeline
Wherefore ey'st him so?
3385Imogen
I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
Cymbeline
Aye, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
Imogen
Fidele, sir.
3390Cymbeline
Thou'rt my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master. Walk with me; speak freely.
[Cymbeline and Imogen speak apart]
[Belarius, Arviragus, and Guiderius speak together]
Belarius
Is not this boy revived from death?
Arviragus
One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
3395Who died and was Fidele. What think you?
Guiderius
The same dead thing alive.
Belarius
Peace, peace; see further. He eyes us not; forbear.
Creatures may be alike; were't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
3400Guiderius
But we see him dead.
Belarius
Be silent; let's see further.
Pisanio [Aside]
It is my mistress:
Since she is living, let the time run on
To good or bad.
[Cymbeline and Imogen come forward]
3405Cymbeline
[To Imogen] Come, stand thou by our side;
Make thy demand aloud. -- [To Iachimo] Sir, step you forth.
Give answer to this boy and do it freely,
Or by our greatness and the grace of it
Which is our honor, bitter torture shall
3410Winnow the truth from falsehood. -- On, speak to him.
Imogen
My boon is that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.
Posthumus [Aside]
What's that to him?
Cymbeline
That diamond upon your finger, say
3415How came it yours.
Iachimo
Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
Which to be spoke would torture thee.
Cymbeline
How? Me?
Iachimo
I am glad to be constrained to utter that
3420Which torments me to conceal. By villainy
I got this ring. 'Twas Leonatus' jewel,
Whom thou didst banish; and, which more may grieve thee,
As it doth me, a nobler sir ne'er lived
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my Lord?
3425Cymbeline
All that belongs to this.
Iachimo
That paragon, thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood and my false spirits
Quail to remember -- give me leave; I faint.
Cymbeline
My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength:
3430I had rather thou shouldst live while Nature will
Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
Iachimo
Upon a time -- unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour! It was in Rome -- accursed
The mansion where! 'Twas at a feast -- oh, would
3435Our viands had been poisoned, or at least
Those which I heaved to head -- the good Posthumus
(What should I say? He was too good to be
Where ill men were, and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones) sitting sadly,
3440Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty, that made barren the swelled boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus; or straight-pitched Minerva,
Postures beyond brief Nature; for condition,
3445A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving,
Fairness, which strikes the eye.
Cymbeline
I stand on fire.
Come to the matter.
Iachimo
All too soon I shall
3450Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint
And, not dispraising whom we praised -- therein
He was as calm as virtue -- he began
3455His mistress' picture, which by his tongue being made
And then a mind put in't, either our brags
Were cracked of kitchen trulls or his description
Proved us unspeaking sots.
Cymbeline
Nay, nay; to th' purpose.
3460Iachimo
Your daughter's chastity -- there it begins:
He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams
And she alone were cold, whereat I, wretch,
Made scruple of his praise and wagered with him
Pieces of gold 'gainst this, which then he wore
3465Upon his honored finger, to attain
In suit the place of's bed and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
No lesser of her honor confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring,
3470And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of's car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
3475Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quenched
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
3480And, to be brief, my practice so prevailed
That I returned with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad
By wounding his belief in her renown,
With tokens thus and thus: averring notes
3485Of chamber-hanging, pictures; this her bracelet
(Oh, cunning how I got it!); nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite cracked,
I having ta'en the forfeit, whereupon --
3490Methinks I see him now.
Posthumus
Aye, so thou dost,
Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, anything
That's due to all the villains past, in being,
3495To come. Oh, give me cord or knife or poison,
Some upright justicer. Thou, King, send out
For torturers ingenious: it is I,
That all th'abhorrèd things o'th' earth amend
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
3500That killed thy daughter -- villain-like, I lie --
That caused a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief to do't. The temple
Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
3505The dogs o'th' street to bay me; every villain
Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and
Be villainy less than 'twas. O Imogen!
My queen, my life, my wife; o Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen.
3510Imogen
Peace, my lord; hear, hear.
Posthumus
Shall's have a play of this?
Thou scornful page, there lie thy part.
[Strikes or throws Imogen; she lies still]
Pisanio
O gentlemen, help,
Mine and your mistress! Oh, my lord Posthumus,
3515You ne'er killed Imogen till now. Help, help,
Mine honored lady.
Cymbeline
Does the world go round?
Posthumus
How comes these staggers on me?
Pisanio
Wake, my mistress.
3520Cymbeline
If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me
To death with mortal joy.
Pisanio
How fares my mistress?
Imogen
Oh, get thee from my sight.
Thou gav'st me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence;
3525Breathe not where princes are.
Cymbeline
The tune of Imogen.
Pisanio
Lady,
The gods throw stones of sulfur on me if
That box I gave you was not thought by me
A precious thing. I had it from the Queen.
3530Cymbeline
New matter still.
Imogen
It poisoned me.
Cornelius
Oh, gods!
I left out one thing which the Queen confessed,
Which must approve thee honest. "If Pisanio
3535Have," said she, "given his mistress that confection
Which I gave him for cordial, she is served
As I would serve a rat."
Cymbeline
What's this, Cornelius?
Cornelius
The Queen, sir, very oft importuned me
3540To temper poisons for her, still pretending
The satisfaction of her knowledge only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs
Of no esteem. I, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
3545A certain stuff which, being ta'en, would cease
The present power of life, but in short time,
All offices of nature should again
Do their due functions. -- Have you ta'en of it?
Imogen
Most like I did, for I was dead.
3550Belarius [To Guiderius and Arviragus]
My boys,
There was our error.
Guiderius [To Belarius and Arviragus]
This is sure Fidele.
Imogen
Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?
Think that you are upon a rock, and now
Throw me again.
3555Posthumus
Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Till the tree die.
Cymbeline
How now, my flesh, my child?
What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?
[Imogen (and possibly Posthumus) kneels]
3560Imogen
Your blessing, sir.
Belarius [To Guiderius and Arviragus]
Though you did love this youth, I blame ye not;
You had a motive for't.
Cymbeline
My tears that fall
Prove holy water on thee. Imogen,
3565Thy mother's dead.
Imogen
I am sorry for't, my Lord.
Cymbeline
Oh, she was naught; and long of her it was
That we meet here so strangely. But her son
Is gone, we know not how nor where.
3570Pisanio
My lord,
Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Clotten,
Upon my lady's missing, came to me
With his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and swore
If I discovered not which way she was gone,
3575It was my instant death. By accident,
I had a feignèd letter of my master's
Then in my pocket, which directed him
To seek her on the mountains near to Milford,
Where in a frenzy, in my master's garments
3580Which he inforced from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose and with oath to violate
My lady's honor. What became of him,
I further know not.
Guiderius
Let me end the story:
I slew him there.
3585Cymbeline
Marry, the gods forfend.
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence. Prithee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.
Guiderius
I have spoke it, and I did it.
3590Cymbeline
He was a prince.
Guiderius
A most incivil one. The wrongs he did me
Were nothing princelike, for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea
If it could so roar to me. I cut off's head
3595And am right glad he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.
Cymbeline
I am sorrow for thee:
By thine own tongue thou art condemned and must
Endure our law: thou'rt dead.
3600Imogen
That headless man
I thought had been my lord.
Cymbeline [To Guards]
Bind the offender
And take him from our presence.
Belarius
Stay, sir King.
This man is better than the man he slew,
3605As well descended as thyself, and hath
More of thee merited than a band of Clottens
Had ever scar for. --
[To Guards]
Let his arms alone;
They were not born for bondage.
Cymbeline
Why, old soldier,
3610Wilt 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.
Cymbeline
And thou shalt die for't.
3615Belarius
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.
3620Arviragus [To Cymbeline]
Your danger's ours.
Guiderius
And our good his.
Belarius
Have at it, then, by leave.
Thou hadst, great King, a subject who
Was called Belarius.
3625Cymbeline
What of him? He is
A banished traitor.
Belarius
He it is that hath
Assumed this age; indeed a banished man,
I know not how a traitor.
Cymbeline [To Guards]
Take him hence.
3630The whole world shall not save him.
Belarius
Not too hot;
First pay me for the nursing of thy sons,
And let it be confiscate all, so soon
As I have received it.
3635Cymbeline
Nursing of my sons?
Belarius
I am too blunt and saucy; here's my knee.
Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons,
Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
These two young gentlemen that call me Father
3640And think they are my sons are none of mine;
They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
And blood of your begetting.
Cymbeline
How, my issue?
Belarius
So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
3645Am that Belarius whom you sometime banished.
Your pleasure was my near offense, my punishment
Itself; and all my treason that I suffered
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes,
For such and so they are, these twenty years
3650Have I trained up; those arts they have as I
Could put into them. My breeding was, sir,
As Your Highness knows; their nurse Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment. I moved her to't,
3655Having received the punishment before
For that which I did then: beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason. Their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped
Unto my end of stealing them. But gracious sir,
3660Here are your sons again, and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.
3665Cymbeline
Thou weepst and speakst.
The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tellst. I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
3670Belarius
Be pleased awhile:
This gentleman whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours is true Guiderius;
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus.
Your younger princely son, he, sir, was lapped
3675In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand
Of his queen mother, which for more probation
I can with ease produce.
Cymbeline
Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
3680It was a mark of wonder.
Belarius
This is he
Who hath upon him still that natural stamp;
It was wise Nature's end in the donation
To be his evidence now.
3685Cymbeline
Oh, what am I,
A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoiced deliverance more. -- Blessed, pray you be,
That after this strange starting from your orbs
You may reign in them now. -- Oh, Imogen,
3690Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Imogen
No, my Lord;
I have got two worlds by't. -- O my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? Oh, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker. You called me brother
3695When I was but your sister; I you, brothers,
When we were so indeed.
Cymbeline
Did you ere meet?
Arviragus
Aye, my good Lord.
Guiderius
And at first meeting loved;
3700Continued so, until we thought he died.
Cornelius
By the Queen's dram she swallowed.
Cymbeline
Oh, rare instinct!
When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgment
Hath to it circumstantial branches which
3705Distinction should be rich in. -- Where, how lived you?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? How first met them?
Why fled you from the court? And whither? -- These,
And your three motives to the battle -- with
3710I know not how much more should be demanded,
And all the other by-dependances
From chance to chance. But nor the time nor place
Will serve our long interrogatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen,
3715And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices. --
3720[To Belarius] Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever.
Imogen
[To Belarius] You are my father, too, and did relieve me
To see this gracious season.
Cymbeline
All o'erjoyed
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,
3725For they shall taste our comfort.
Imogen
My good master,
I will yet do you service.
Lucius
Happy be you!
Cymbeline
The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought,
He would have well becomed this place and graced
3730The thankings of a king.
Posthumus
I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then followed. -- That I was he,
3735Speak, Iachimo; I had you down and might
Have made you finish.
[Iachimo kneels]
Iachimo
I am down again,
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
3740Which I so often owe, but your ring first,
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.
Posthumus
Kneel not to me:
The power that I have on you is to spare you;
3745The malice towards you, to forgive you. Live,
And deal with others better.
Cymbeline
Nobly doomed.
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law:
Pardon's the word to all.
3750Arviragus
You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joyed are we that you are.
Posthumus
Your servant, princes. -- Good my Lord of Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought
3755Great Jupiter upon his eagle backed
Appeared to me with other sprightly shows
Of mine own kindred. When I waked, I found
This label on my bosom, whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness that I can
3760Make no collection of it. Let him show
His skill in the construction.
Lucius
Philarmonus.
Soothsayer
Here, my good Lord.
Lucius
Read, and declare the meaning.
3765Soothsayer
Reads
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name
3775Being "Leo-natus" doth import so much --
The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
Which we call "mollis aer," and "mollis aer"
We term it "mulier" -- which "mulier" I divine
Is this most constant wife, who even now,
3780Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipped about
With this most tender air.
Cymbeline
This hath some seeming.
Soothsayer
The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
3785Personates thee; and thy lopped branches point
Thy two sons forth, who, by Belarius stolen,
For many years thought dead, are now revived,
To the majestic cedar joined; whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.
3790Cymbeline
Well,
My peace we will begin, and, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar
And to the Roman empire, promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
3795We were dissuaded by our wicked Queen,
Whom heavens in justice both on her and hers
Have laid most heavy hand.
Soothsayer
The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
3800Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle at this instant
Is full accomplished, for the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessened herself, and in the beams o'th' sun
3805So vanished; which foreshowed our princely eagle,
Th'imperial Caesar, should again unite
His favor with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.
Cymbeline
Laud we the gods,
3810And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our blessed altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward; let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together, so through Luds-Town march;
3815And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts. --
Set on there. -- Never was a war did cease
Ere bloody hands were washed with such a peace.
Exeunt
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