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Cymbeline

William Shakespeare
Cymbeline

The Tragedie of Cymbeline

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima

Enter two Gentlemen.

  1.Gent. You do not meet a man but Frownes.
Our bloods no more obey the Heauens
Then our Courtiers:
Still seeme, as do's the Kings

   2 Gent. But what's the matter?

  1. His daughter, and the heire of's kingdome (whom
He purpos'd to his wiues sole Sonne, a Widdow
That late he married) hath referr'd her selfe
Vnto a poore, but worthy Gentleman. She's wedded,
Her Husband banish'd; she imprison'd, all
Is outward sorrow, though I thinke the King
Be touch'd at very heart

2 None but the King?

1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene,
That most desir'd the Match. But not a Courtier,
Although they weare their faces to the bent
Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowle at

   2 And why so?

  1 He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing
Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her,
(I meane, that married her, alacke good man,
And therefore banish'd) is a Creature, such,
As to seeke through the Regions of the Earth
For one, his like; there would be something failing
In him, that should compare. I do not thinke,
So faire an Outward, and such stuffe Within
Endowes a man, but hee

2 You speake him farre

1 I do extend him (Sir) within himselfe,
Crush him together, rather then vnfold His measure duly

   2 What's his name, and Birth?

  1 I cannot delue him to the roote: His Father
Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne his Honor
Against the Romanes, with Cassibulan,
But had his Titles by Tenantius, whom
He seru'd with Glory, and admir'd Successe:
So gain'd the Sur-addition, Leonatus.
And had (besides this Gentleman in question)
Two other Sonnes, who in the Warres o'th' time
Dy'de with their Swords in hand. For which, their Father
Then old, and fond of yssue, tooke such sorrow
That he quit Being; and his gentle Lady
Bigge of this Gentleman (our Theame) deceast
As he was borne. The King he takes the Babe
To his protection, cals him Posthumus Leonatus,
Breedes him, and makes him of his Bed-chamber,
Puts to him all the Learnings that his time
Could make him the receiuer of, which he tooke
As we do ayre, fast as 'twas ministred,
And in's Spring, became a Haruest: Liu'd in Court
(Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lou'd,
A sample to the yongest: to th' more Mature,
A glasse that feated them: and to the grauer,
A Childe that guided Dotards. To his Mistris,
(For whom he now is banish'd) her owne price
Proclaimes how she esteem'd him; and his Vertue
By her electio[n] may be truly read, what kind of man he is

   2 I honor him, euen out of your report.
But pray you tell me, is she sole childe to'th' King?

  1 His onely childe:
He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing,
Marke it) the eldest of them, at three yeares old
I'th' swathing cloathes, the other from their Nursery
Were stolne, and to this houre, no ghesse in knowledge
Which way they went

2 How long is this ago?

1 Some twenty yeares

2 That a Kings Children should be so conuey'd,
So slackely guarded, and the search so slow
That could not trace them

1 Howsoere, 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at:
Yet is it true Sir

2 I do well beleeue you

1 We must forbeare.
Heere comes the Gentleman, The Queene, and Princesse.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda

Enter the Queene, Posthumus, and Imogen.

  Qu. No, be assur'd you shall not finde me (Daughter)
After the slander of most Step-Mothers,
Euill-ey'd vnto you. You're my Prisoner, but
Your Gaoler shall deliuer you the keyes
That locke vp your restraint. For you Posthumus,
So soone as I can win th' offended King,
I will be knowne your Aduocate: marry yet
The fire of Rage is in him, and 'twere good
You lean'd vnto his Sentence, with what patience
Your wisedome may informe you

   Post. 'Please your Highnesse,
I will from hence to day

   Qu. You know the perill:
Ile fetch a turne about the Garden, pittying
The pangs of barr'd Affections, though the King
Hath charg'd you should not speake together.

Exit

  Imo. O dissembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds? My deerest Husband,
I something feare my Fathers wrath, but nothing
(Alwayes reseru'd my holy duty) what
His rage can do on me. You must be gone,
And I shall heere abide the hourely shot
Of angry eyes: not comforted to liue,
But that there is this Iewell in the world,
That I may see againe

   Post. My Queene, my Mistris:
O Lady, weepe no more, least I giue cause
To be suspected of more tendernesse
Then doth become a man. I will remaine
The loyall'st husband, that did ere plight troth.
My residence in Rome, at one Filorio's,
Who, to my Father was a Friend, to me
Knowne but by Letter; thither write (my Queene)
And with mine eyes, Ile drinke the words you send,
Though Inke be made of Gall.

Enter Queene.

  Qu. Be briefe, I pray you:
If the King come, I shall incurre, I know not
How much of his displeasure: yet Ile moue him
To walke this way: I neuer do him wrong,
But he do's buy my Iniuries, to be Friends:
Payes deere for my offences

   Post. Should we be taking leaue
As long a terme as yet we haue to liue,
The loathnesse to depart, would grow: Adieu

   Imo. Nay, stay a little:
Were you but riding forth to ayre your selfe,
Such parting were too petty. Looke heere (Loue)
This Diamond was my Mothers; take it (Heart)
But keepe it till you woo another Wife,
When Imogen is dead

   Post. How, how? Another?
You gentle Gods, giue me but this I haue,
And seare vp my embracements from a next,
With bonds of death. Remaine, remaine thou heere,
While sense can keepe it on: And sweetest, fairest,
As I (my poore selfe) did exchange for you
To your so infinite losse; so in our trifles
I still winne of you. For my sake weare this,
It is a Manacle of Loue, Ile place it
Vpon this fayrest Prisoner

   Imo. O the Gods!
When shall we see againe?

Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Post. Alacke, the King

   Cym. Thou basest thing, auoyd hence, from my sight:
If after this command thou fraught the Court
With thy vnworthinesse, thou dyest. Away,
Thou'rt poyson to my blood

   Post. The Gods protect you,
And blesse the good Remainders of the Court:
I am gone

   Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharpe then this is

   Cym. O disloyall thing,
That should'st repayre my youth, thou heap'st
A yeares age on mee

   Imo. I beseech you Sir,
Harme not your selfe with your vexation,
I am senselesse of your Wrath; a Touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all feares

   Cym. Past Grace? Obedience?

  Imo. Past hope, and in dispaire, that way past Grace

   Cym. That might'st haue had
The sole Sonne of my Queene

   Imo. O blessed, that I might not: I chose an Eagle,
And did auoyd a Puttocke

   Cym. Thou took'st a Begger, would'st haue made my
Throne, a Seate for basenesse

Imo. No, I rather added a lustre to it

   Cym. O thou vilde one!

  Imo. Sir,
It is your fault that I haue lou'd Posthumus:
You bred him as my Play-fellow, and he is
A man, worth any woman: Ouer-buyes mee
Almost the summe he payes

   Cym. What? art thou mad?

  Imo. Almost Sir: Heauen restore me: would I were
A Neat-heards Daughter, and my Leonatus
Our Neighbour-Shepheards Sonne.

Enter Queene.

  Cym. Thou foolish thing;
They were againe together: you haue done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her vp

   Qu. Beseech your patience: Peace
Deere Lady daughter, peace. Sweet Soueraigne,
Leaue vs to our selues, and make your self some comfort
Out of your best aduice

   Cym. Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day, and being aged
Dye of this Folly.

Enter.

Enter Pisanio.

  Qu. Fye, you must giue way:
Heere is your Seruant. How now Sir? What newes?

  Pisa. My Lord your Sonne, drew on my Master

   Qu. Hah?
No harme I trust is done?

  Pisa. There might haue beene,
But that my Master rather plaid, then fought,
And had no helpe of Anger: they were parted
By Gentlemen, at hand

Qu. I am very glad on't

   Imo. Your Son's my Fathers friend, he takes his part
To draw vpon an Exile. O braue Sir,
I would they were in Affricke both together,
My selfe by with a Needle, that I might pricke
The goer backe. Why came you from your Master?

  Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer mee
To bring him to the Hauen: left these Notes
Of what commands I should be subiect too,
When't pleas'd you to employ me

   Qu. This hath beene
Your faithfull Seruant: I dare lay mine Honour
He will remaine so

Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highnesse

Qu. Pray walke a-while

   Imo. About some halfe houre hence,
Pray you speake with me;
You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord.
For this time leaue me.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia

Enter Clotten, and two Lords.

1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Violence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent

   Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it.
Haue I hurt him?

  2 No faith: not so much as his patience

   1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee
not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt

   2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the
Towne

Clot. The Villaine would not stand me

2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face

   1 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne:
But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground

   2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.)

  Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs

   2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole
you were vpon the ground

   Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and refuse
mee

2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd

1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene small reflection of her wit

   2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection
Should hurt her

   Clot. Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had
beene some hurt done

   2 I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse,
which is no great hurt

   Clot. You'l go with vs?

  1 Ile attend your Lordship

Clot. Nay come, let's go together

2 Well my Lord.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta

Enter Imogen, and Pisanio.

  Imo. I would thou grew'st vnto the shores o'th' Hauen,
And questioned'st euery Saile: if he should write,
And I not haue it, 'twere a Paper lost
As offer'd mercy is: What was the last
That he spake to thee?

  Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene

   Imo. Then wau'd his Handkerchiefe?

  Pisa. And kist it, Madam

   Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I:
And that was all?

  Pisa. No Madam: for so long

As he could make me with his eye, or eare,
Distinguish him from others, he did keepe
The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife,
Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of's mind
Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl'd on,
How swift his Ship

   Imo. Thou should'st haue made him
As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left
To after-eye him

Pisa. Madam, so I did

   Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings;
Crack'd them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution
Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle:
Nay, followed him, till he had melted from
The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then
Haue turn'd mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio,
When shall we heare from him

   Pisa. Be assur'd Madam,
With his next vantage

   Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had
Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him
How I would thinke on him at certaine houres,
Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare,
The Shees of Italy should not betray
Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg'd him
At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight,
T' encounter me with Orisons, for then
I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could,
Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father,
And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North,
Shakes all our buddes from growing.

Enter a Lady.

  La. The Queene (Madam)
Desires your Highnesse Company

   Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd,
I will attend the Queene

Pisa. Madam, I shall.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta

Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard.

Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woorthy, as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I could then haue look'd on him, without the help of Admiration, though the Catalogue of his endowments had bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items