Original Text |
Translated Text |
| Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
|
Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, Lords, and
Attendants. CYMBELINE
Thus far, and so farewell. LUCIUS Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote I must from hence,
And am right sorry that I must report you
My master’s enemy. 5 | Lucius meets with Cymbeline and company again, hoping they will reconsider the whole stick-it-to-Rome plan. |
CYMBELINE Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke, and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they must needs
Appear unkinglike. | Cymbeline doesn't reconsider. He boldly tells Lucius that they are going where Britain has never gone before: they are totally not going to pay the tribute. |
LUCIUS So, sir. I desire of you 10
A conduct overland to Milford Haven.—
Madam, all joy befall your Grace—and you. CYMBELINE, to Lords
My lords, you are appointed for that office.
The due of honor in no point omit.—
So, farewell, noble Lucius. 15 LUCIUS, to Cloten Your hand, my lord. CLOTEN
Receive it friendly, but from this time forth
I wear it as your enemy. LUCIUS Sir, the event
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well. 20 CYMBELINE
Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
Till he have crossed the Severn. Happiness! Exit Lucius and Lords. QUEEN
He goes hence frowning, but it honors us
That we have given him cause. CLOTEN ’Tis all the better. 25
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it. CYMBELINE
Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.
The powers that he already hath in Gallia 30
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
His war for Britain. QUEEN ’Tis not sleepy business,
But must be looked to speedily and strongly. | Lucius wishes this were not the case, but he leaves for Milford-Haven. The Queen likes that they've given Lucius reason to frown. |
CYMBELINE
Our expectation that it would be thus 35
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appeared
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tendered
The duty of the day. She looks us like
A thing more made of malice than of duty. 40
We have noted it.—Call her before us, for
We have been too slight in sufferance. An Attendant exits. | Cymbeline decides he wants to see his daughter. She hasn't been around much, and she looks at him like he's "malice" lately. |
QUEEN Royal sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
Hath her life been, the cure whereof, my lord, 45
’Tis time must do. Beseech your Majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her. She’s a lady
So tender of rebukes that words are strokes
And strokes death to her. | The Queen says Imogen's been that way since Posthumus's exile. |
Enter Attendant. CYMBELINE Where is she, sir? How 50
Can her contempt be answered? ATTENDANT Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all locked, and there’s no answer
That will be given to th’ loud’st noise we make. QUEEN My lord, when last I went to visit her, 55
She prayed me to excuse her keeping close;
Whereto constrained by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you
Which daily she was bound to proffer. This
She wished me to make known, but our great court 60
Made me to blame in memory. | When the attendant returns with news that Imogen's chamber doors were
locked, Cymbeline grows suspicious. The Queen says she went to see her
before and was told that Imogen was sick. |
CYMBELINE Her doors locked?
Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I
Fear prove false! He exits with Attendant. QUEEN Son, I say, follow the King. 65 CLOTEN
That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant
I have not seen these two days. QUEEN Go, look after. Cloten exits. | Cymbeline rushes out to find Imogen. Cloten then chimes in with an observation that he hasn't seen Imogen or her servant Pisanio in two days. The Queen orders her son to follow the king. |
Aside. Pisanio, thou that stand’st so for Posthumus—
He hath a drug of mine. I pray his absence 70
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seized her,
Or, winged with fervor of her love, she’s flown
To her desired Posthumus. Gone she is 75
To death or to dishonor, and my end
Can make good use of either. She being down,
I have the placing of the British crown. | Alone on stage, the Queen dishes. She doesn't really care where Imogen and Pisanio are, but she realizes that if Imogen is gone, then she, the Queen,is totally in charge of the British crown.
That's a total win for the Queen. |
Enter Cloten. How now, my son? CLOTEN ’Tis certain she is fled. 80
Go in and cheer the King. He rages; none
Dare come about him. QUEEN, aside All the better. May
This night forestall him of the coming day! Queen exits, with Attendants. | Cloten returns with a bombshell: Imogen has taken off. This is good news, says the Queen to herself. Then she leaves. |
CLOTEN
I love and hate her, for she’s fair and royal, 85
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman. From every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all. I love her therefore, but
Disdaining me and throwing favors on 90
The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment
That what’s else rare is choked. And in that point
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be revenged upon her. For, when fools
Shall— 95 Enter Pisanio. Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
Come hither. Ah, you precious pander! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
He draws his sword. PISANIO O, good my lord— 100 CLOTEN
Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter—
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I’ll have this secret from thy heart or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus,
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot 105
A dram of worth be drawn? PISANIO Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him? When was she missed?
He is in Rome. CLOTEN Where is she, sir? Come nearer. 110
No farther halting. Satisfy me home
What is become of her. PISANIO
O, my all-worthy lord! CLOTEN All-worthy villain!
Discover where thy mistress is at once, 115
At the next word. No more of “worthy lord”!
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death. PISANIO Then, sir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge 120
Touching her flight. He gives Cloten a paper. CLOTEN Let’s see ’t. I will pursue her
Even to Augustus’ throne. PISANIO, aside Or this or perish.
She’s far enough, and what he learns by this 125
May prove his travail, not her danger. CLOTEN Humh! PISANIO, aside
I’ll write to my lord she’s dead. O Imogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again! CLOTEN Sirrah, is this letter true? 130 PISANIO Sir, as I think. CLOTEN It is Posthumus’ hand, I know ’t. Sirrah, if
thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service,
undergo those employments wherein I should
have cause to use thee with a serious industry— 135
that is, what villainy soe’er I bid thee do to perform
it directly and truly—I would think thee an honest
man. Thou shouldst neither want my means for thy
relief nor my voice for thy preferment. | Pisanio enters the scene, and Cloten confronts him about Imogen's whereabouts. Pisanio decides to send Cloten on a fool's errand since his mistress has surely left Britain safely by now. He tells Cloten that Imogen has gone to Milford-Haven. |
PISANIO Well, my good lord. 140 CLOTEN Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and
constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of
that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not in the
course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of
mine. Wilt thou serve me? 145 PISANIO Sir, I will. CLOTEN Give me thy hand. Here’s my purse. Gives
him money. Hast any of thy late master’s garments
in thy possession? PISANIO I have, my lord, at my lodging the same suit he 150
wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. CLOTEN The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit
hither. Let it be thy first service. Go. PISANIO I shall, my lord. He exits. CLOTEN Meet thee at Milford Haven!—I forgot to ask 155
him one thing; I’ll remember ’t anon. Even there,
thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would
these garments were come. She said upon a time—
the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart—
that she held the very garment of Posthumus in 160
more respect than my noble and natural person,
together with the adornment of my qualities. With
that suit upon my back will I ravish her. First, kill
him, and in her eyes. There shall she see my valor,
which will then be a torment to her contempt. 165
He on the ground, my speech of insultment
ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath
dined—which, as I say, to vex her I will execute
in the clothes that she so praised—to the court
I’ll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath 170
despised me rejoicingly, and I’ll be merry in my
revenge. Enter Pisanio with the clothes. Be those the garments? PISANIO Ay, my noble lord. CLOTEN How long is ’t since she went to Milford Haven? 175 PISANIO She can scarce be there yet. CLOTEN Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the
second thing that I have commanded thee. The
third is that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my
design. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall 180
tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford.
Would I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true. He exits. PISANIO
Thou bidd’st me to my loss, for true to thee
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. To Milford go, 185
And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her. This fool’s speed
Be crossed with slowness. Labor be his meed. He exits. | This is the perfect opportunity for Cloten to get his revenge on Imogen for saying that he was worse than Posthumus's clothes. He sends Pisanio to fetch those very clothes. He's going to wear them, and while he's wearing them, he's going to "ravish" Imogen and kill Posthumus. He's taking this revenge thing very seriously. |