Cymbeline

Cymbeline is one of the eighteen plays never printed in Shakespeare’s lifetime and first published in the Folio of 1623. On the basis of style and structure, scholars date it about 1610. In 1611, Simon Forman recorded in a commonplace book an account of the plot of ‘Cymbalin’, among several plays he saw at the Globe between April and September, when he died.

Cymbeline is unexpectedly placed in the Folio as the last of the tragedies. Though today the play’s affinities with the other late romances, Pericles, The Winter’s Tale and The Tempest, are unmistakable, the Folio editors either struggled to determine the play’s genre or were aware that ‘tragedy with a happy ending’ was recognized by some critics. It is certainly a play in which two central characters die, ghosts appear, Jupiter throws thunderbolts and descends riding upon an eagle, and it lacks overtly comic characters. Dr Johnson’s impatience with its anachronistic mixing of the Rome of the first century BC with sixteenth-century Europe and his notorious reference to the plot’s ‘unresisting imbecility’ reflect his own, and his age’s, lack of sympathy with romantic fictions.

The very incongruities that Johnson scorned are arguably the essence of the play’s vision. The bewildering series of reversals and revelations that permits the play’s three plots to come together in a marvellous conclusion is the apt denouement of what Granville Barker, with fuller sympathy, called the play’s ‘sophisticated artlessness’. In part this is, no doubt, a reflection of a new literary fashion for Italianate tragicomedy represented by such plays as Beaumont and Fletcher’s popular Philaster (1609); but Shakespeare’s use of this experimental form and dramaturgy imbues it with a power that is uniquely his own. Each of the play’s three plot lines – that of Imogen’s love and Posthumus’ jealousy, that of Cymbeline’s long-lost sons and that of Britain’s challenge to the power of Rome – while very different in tone, even perhaps in genre, enacts the same archetypal pattern of innocence-fall-redemption; and each proves the truth of Caius Lucius’ claim: ‘Some falls are means the happier to arise.’ Each originates in Cymbeline’s own misvaluing of a relationship, so that Posthumus and Belarius are exiled from the court, Imogen is threatened with Cloten’s courtship and Britain is isolated from the wider community of the Roman world. In each plot characters move from error to truth, from scepticism to faith, from hatred to love; and each plot, from the individual regeneration of Posthumus, to the royal family reunion and the international reconciliation of Britain and Rome, describes an ever more inclusive circle of harmony.

In the final scene, all comes together. Cymbeline, the least informed figure on stage, faces one discovery after another (one critic counts twenty-five), but all the others also acquire knowledge that redeems the tragic potentialities of the play, and everything of value is restored. Confusion and loss are replaced by clarity and gain; families and nations are reunited and at peace. The comic order, as the soothsayer says of his vision, ‘at this instant / Is full accomplished’. And if here we hear an echo of Christ’s ‘consummatum est’, perhaps it is because the achievement of harmony in the play serves in some measure as a secular analogue to the ‘rarer action’ of salvation history. It can hardly be coincidental that the best known fact about the early British king Cymbeline was that he ruled at the moment of the Incarnation.

On 1 January 1634, the play was performed at court for Charles I, and it was ‘well liked by the king’. From the Restoration onwards, Cymbeline has remained a play better liked in the theatre than in the study. Distressed by inadequate productions of Cymbeline he had seen, George Bernard Shaw notoriously altered the last act. His Cymbeline Refinished (1937) eliminates Jupiter descending on his holy eagle, cuts out the heroic actions of Guiderius and Arviragus, and in general recreates the characters and relationships in the manner of Ibsen. His aim was partly critical of what, in his habitual vein of Bardoclastic provocation, he called the ‘tedious … sentimentality’ of the fifth act, but his more serious challenge was to theatre companies to have the courage to stage the full text of it, including Posthumus’ vision. He offered his rewriting as an alternative only to the truncated texts, not the full one.

The Arden text is based on the 1623 First Folio.

LIST OF ROLES

CYMBELINE		King of Britain
CLOTEN		son to the Queen by a former husband
POSTHUMUS Leonatus		a gentleman, husband to Imogen
BELARIUS		a banished lord, disguised under the name of Morgan
GUIDERIUS		son to Cymbeline, disguised under the name of Polydore, supposed son to Morgan
ARVIRAGUS		son to Cymbeline, disguised under the name of Cadwal, supposed son to Morgan
PHILARIO		friend to Posthumus, Italian
IACHIMO		friend to Philario, Italian
Caius LUCIUS		general of the Roman forces
PISANIO		servant to Posthumus
CORNELIUS		a physician
Philarmonus, a SOOTHSAYER
Roman CAPTAIN
Two British CAPTAINS
FRENCHMAN		friend to Philario
TWO LORDS		of Cymbeline’s Court
TWO GENTLEMEN		of the same
TWO GAOLERS
QUEEN		wife to Cymbeline
IMOGEN		daughter to Cymbeline by a former Queen
Helen, a LADY		attending on Imogen
		apparitions
Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Dutchman, a Spaniard, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers and other Attendants.

Cymbeline

1.1 Enter two Gentlemen.

1 GENTLEMAN
You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods
No more obey the heavens than our courtiers
Still seem as does the king’s.
2 GENTLEMAN     But what’s the matter?
1 GENTLEMAN
His daughter, and the heir of’s kingdom (whom
He purpos’d to his wife’s sole son – a widow	5
That late he married) hath referr’d herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman. She’s wedded,
Her husband banish’d; she imprison’d, all
Is outward sorrow, though I think the king
Be touch’d at very heart.
2 GENTLEMAN     None but the king?	10
1 GENTLEMAN
He that hath lost her too: so is the queen,
That most desir’d the match. But not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king’s looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.
2 GENTLEMAN     And why so?	15
1 GENTLEMAN
He that hath miss’d the princess is a thing
Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her
(I mean, that married her, alack good man,
And therefore banish’d) is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth	20
For one his like; there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward, and such stuff within
Endows a man, but he.
2 GENTLEMAN     You speak him far.
1 GENTLEMAN
I do extend him, sir, within himself,	25
Crush him together, rather than unfold
His measure duly.
2 GENTLEMAN     What’s his name and birth?
1 GENTLEMAN
I cannot delve him to the root: his father
Was call’d Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans with Cassibelan,	30
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He served with glory and admired success:
So gain’d the sur-addition Leonatus:
And had (besides this gentleman in question)
Two other sons, who in the wars o’th’ time	35
Died with their swords in hand. For which their
father,
Then old, and fond of issue, took such sorrow
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman (our theme) deceas’d
As he was born. The king he takes the babe	40
To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber,
Puts to him all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of, which he took,
As we do air, fast as ’twas minister’d,	45
And in’s spring became a harvest: liv’d in court
(Which rare it is to do) most prais’d, most lov’d;
A sample to the youngest, to th’ more mature
A glass that feated them, and to the graver
A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,	50
(For whom he now is banish’d) her own price
Proclaims how she esteem’d him; and his virtue
By her election may be truly read
What kind of man he is.
2 GENTLEMAN     I honour him,
Even out of your report. But pray you tell me,	55
Is she sole child to th’ king?
1 GENTLEMAN     His only child.
He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it) the eldest of them at three years old,
I’ th’ swathing-clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stol’n; and to this hour no guess in knowledge	60
Which way they went.
2 GENTLEMAN     How long is this ago?
1 GENTLEMAN   Some twenty years.
2 GENTLEMAN
That a king’s children should be so convey’d,
So slackly guarded, and the search so slow
That could not trace them!
1 GENTLEMAN     Howsoe’er ’tis strange,	65
Or that the negligence may well be laugh’d at,
Yet is it true, sir.
2 GENTLEMAN     I do well believe you.
1 GENTLEMAN
We must forbear. Here comes the gentleman,
The queen, and princess.     Exeunt.

1.2 Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS and IMOGEN.

QUEEN   No, be assur’d you shall not find me, daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-ey’d unto you. You’re my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
That lock up your restraint. For you Posthumus,	5
So soon as I can win th’offended king,
I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him, and ’twere good
You lean’d unto his sentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.
POSTHUMUS     Please your highness,	10
I will from hence to-day.
QUEEN     You know the peril.
I’ll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr’d affections, though the king
Hath charg’d you should not speak together.     Exit.
IMOGEN     O
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant	15
Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,
I something fear my father’s wrath, but nothing
(Always reserv’d my holy duty) what
His rage can do on me. You must be gone,
And I shall here abide the hourly shot	20
Of angry eyes: not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world
That I may see again.
POSTHUMUS     My queen, my mistress:
O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness	25
Than doth become a man. I will remain
The loyal’st husband that did e’er plight troth.
My residence in Rome, at one Philario’s,
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter; thither write, my queen,	30
And with mine eyes I’ll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.
Re-enter QUEEN.
QUEEN     Be brief, I pray you:
If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure:
[aside]     yet I’ll move him
To walk this way: I never do him wrong	35
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends:
Pays dear for my offences.     Exit.
POSTHUMUS     Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu!
IMOGEN     Nay, stay a little:	40
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother’s; take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.
POSTHUMUS     How, how? Another?	45
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death! Remain, remain thou here,
[putting on the ring]
While sense can keep it on: And sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you	50
To your so infinite loss; so in our trifles
I still win of you. For my sake wear this,
It is a manacle of love, I’ll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.
[putting a bracelet on her arm]
IMOGEN     O the gods!
When shall we see again?
Enter CYMBELINE and lords.
POSTHUMUS     Alack, the king!	55
CYMBELINE
Thou basest thing, avoid hence, from my sight!
If after this command thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest. Away!
Thou’rt poison to my blood.
POSTHUMUS     The gods protect you,
And bless the good remainders of the court!	60
I am gone.     Exit.
IMOGEN     There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.
CYMBELINE     O disloyal thing,
That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap’st
A year’s age on me!
IMOGEN     I beseech you sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation,	65
I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.
CYMBELINE     Past grace? obedience?
IMOGEN     Past hope, and in despair, that way past grace.
CYMBELINE
That mightst have had the sole son of my queen!
IMOGEN     O blessed, that I might not! I chose an eagle,	70
And did avoid a puttock.
CYMBELINE
Thou took’st a beggar, wouldst have made my throne
A seat for baseness.
IMOGEN     No, I rather added
A lustre to it.
CYMBELINE     O thou vile one!
IMOGEN     Sir,
It is your fault that I have lov’d Posthumus:	75
You bred him as my playfellow, and he is
A man worth any woman: overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.
CYMBELINE     What? Art thou mad?
IMOGEN     Almost, sir: heaven restore me! Would I were
A neat-herd’s daughter, and my Leonatus	80
Our neighbour-shepherd’s son!
CYMBELINE     Thou foolish thing! –
Re-enter QUEEN.
They were again together: you have done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.
QUEEN     Beseech your patience. Peace
Dear lady daughter, peace! – Sweet sovereign,	85
Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some
comfort
Out of your best advice.
CYMBELINE     Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day, and being aged
Die of this folly.     Exeunt Cymbeline and lords.
QUEEN     Fie! you must give way.
Enter PISANIO.
Here is your servant. How now, sir? What news?	90
PISANIO     My Lord your son drew on my master.
QUEEN     Ha?
No harm I trust is done?
PISANIO     There might have been,
But that my master rather play’d than fought,
And had no help of anger: they were parted
By gentlemen at hand.
QUEEN     I am very glad on’t.	95
IMOGEN
Your son’s my father’s friend, he takes his part
To draw upon an exile. O brave sir!
I would they were in Afric both together,
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer-back. Why came you from your master?	100
PISANIO     On his command: he would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven: left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to,
When’t pleased you to employ me.
QUEEN     This hath been
Your faithful servant: I dare lay mine honour	105
He will remain so.
PISANIO     I humbly thank your highness
QUEEN     Pray, walk awhile.
IMOGEN
About some half-hour hence, pray you, speak with
me;
You shall (at least) go see my lord aboard.
For this time leave me.     Exeunt.	110

1.3 Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.

1 LORD     Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the
violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice:
where air comes out, air comes in: there’s none abroad
so wholesome as that you vent.
CLOTEN     If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I	5
hurt him?
2 LORD     [aside] No, faith: not so much as his patience.
1 LORD     Hurt him? his body’s a passable carcass, if he be
not hurt. It is a throughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.
2 LORD     [aside] His steel was in debt, it went o’th’	10
backside the town.
CLOTEN     The villain would not stand me.
2 LORD     [aside] No, but he fled forward still, toward your
face.
1 LORD     Stand you? You have land enough of your own:	15
but he added to your having, gave you some ground.
2 LORD     [aside] As many inches as you have oceans.
Puppies!
CLOTEN     I would they had not come between us.
2 LORD     [aside] So would I, till you had measur’d how	20
long a fool you were upon the ground.
CLOTEN     And that she should love this fellow, and refuse
me!
2 LORD     [aside] If it be a sin to make a true election, she
is damn’d.	25
1 LORD     Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her
brain go not together. She’s a good sign, but I have
seen small reflection of her wit.
2 LORD     [aside] She shines not upon fools, lest the
reflection should hurt her.	30
CLOTEN     Come, I’ll to my chamber. Would there had
been some hurt done!
2 LORD     [aside] I wish not so, unless it had been the fall
of an ass, which is no great hurt.
CLOTEN     You’ll go with us?	35
1 LORD     I’ll attend your lordship.
CLOTEN     Nay come, let’s go together
2 LORD     Well my lord.     Exeunt.

1.4 Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO.

IMOGEN
I would thou grew’st unto the shores o’th’ haven,
And question’dst every sail: if he should write,
And I not have it, ’twere a paper lost
As offer’d mercy is. What was the last
That he spake to thee?
PISANIO     It was, his queen, his queen!	5
IMOGEN     Then wav’d his handkerchief?
PISANIO     And kiss’d it, madam.
IMOGEN     Senseless linen, happier therein than I!
And that was all?
PISANIO     No, madam: for so long
As he could make me with this eye, or ear,
Distinguish him from others, he did keep	10
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of’s mind
Could best express how slow his soul sail’d on,
How swift his ship.
IMOGEN     Thou shouldst have made him
As little as a crow, or less, ere left	15
To after-eye him.
PISANIO     Madam, so I did.
IMOGEN
I would have broke mine eye-strings, crack’d them,
but
To look upon him, till the diminution
Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle:
Nay, followed him, till he had melted from	20
The smallness of a gnat, to air: and then
Have turn’d mine eye, and wept. But, good Pisanio,
When shall we hear from him?
PISANIO     Be assur’d, madam,
With his next vantage.
IMOGEN     I did not take my leave of him, but had	25
Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him
How I would think on him at certain hours,
Such thoughts, and such: or I could make him swear
The shes of Italy should not betray
Mine interest, and his honour; or have charg’d him,	30
At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
T’encounter me with orisons, for then
I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,	35
And like the tyrannous breathing of the north,
Shakes all our buds from growing.
Enter a Lady.
LADY     The queen, madam,
Desires your highness’ company.
IMOGEN
Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch’d. –
I will attend the queen.
PISANIO     Madam, I shall.     Exeunt.	40

1.5 Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a Dutchman and a Spaniard.

IACHIMO     Believe it sir, I have seen him in Britain; he
was then of a crescent note, expected to prove so
worthy as since he hath been allowed the name of. But
I could then have look’d on him without the help of
admiration, though the catalogue of his endowments	5
had been tabled by his side and I to peruse him by
items.
PHILARIO     You speak of him when he was less furnish’d
than now he is with that which makes him both
without and within.	10
FRENCHMAN     I have seen him in France: we had very
many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes as
he.
IACHIMO     This matter of marrying his king’s daughter,
wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than	15
his own, words him (I doubt not) a great deal from the
matter.
FRENCHMAN     And then his banishment.
IACHIMO     Ay, and the approbation of those that weep
this lamentable divorce under her colours are	20
wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortify her
judgement, which else an easy battery might lay flat,
for taking a beggar without less quality. But how
comes it he is to sojourn with you? how creeps
acquaintance?	25
PHILARIO     His father and I were soldiers together, to
whom I have been often bound for no less than my life.
– Here comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained
amongst you as suits, with gentlemen of your
knowing, to a stranger of his quality.	30
Enter POSTHUMUS.
I beseech you all be better known to this gentleman,
whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine.
How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter,
rather than story him in his own hearing.
FRENCHMAN     Sir, we have known together in Orleans.	35
POSTHUMUS     Since when I have been debtor to you for
courtesies which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.
FRENCHMAN     Sir, you o’er-rate my poor kindness: I was
glad I did atone my countryman and you: it had been
pity you should have been put together, with so mortal	40
a purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so
slight and trivial a nature.
POSTHUMUS     By your pardon, sir, I was then a young
traveller, rather shunn’d to go even with what I heard
than in my every action to be guided by others’	45
experiences: but upon my mended judgement (if I
offend not to say it is mended) my quarrel was not
altogether slight.
FRENCHMAN     Faith yes, to be put to the arbitrement of
swords, and by such two, that would by all likelihood	50
have confounded one the other, or have fallen both.
IACHIMO     Can we with manners ask what was the
difference?
FRENCHMAN     Safely, I think: ’twas a contention in
public, which may (without contradiction) suffer the	55
report. It was much like an argument that fell out last
night, where each of us fell in praise of our country
mistresses; this gentleman at that time vouching (and
upon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more
fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant, qualified and less	60
attemptable than any the rarest of our ladies in France.
IACHIMO     That lady is not now living; or this
gentleman’s opinion, by this, worn out.
POSTHUMUS     She holds her virtue still, and I my mind.
IACHIMO     You must not so far prefer her ’fore ours of	65
Italy.
POSTHUMUS     Being so far provok’d as I was in France, I
would abate her nothing, though I profess myself her
adorer, not her friend.
IACHIMO     As fair, and as good – a kind of hand-in-hand	70
comparison – had been something too fair, and too
good for any lady in Britany. If she went before others
I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres many
I have beheld, I could not believe she excelled many:
but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is,	75
nor you the lady.
POSTHUMUS     I prais’d her as I rated her: so do I my
stone.
IACHIMO     What do you esteem it at?
POSTHUMUS     More than the world enjoys.	80
IACHIMO     Either your unparagon’d mistress is dead, or
she’s outpriz’d by a trifle.
POSTHUMUS     You are mistaken: the one may be sold or
given, or if there were wealth enough for the purchase,
or merit for the gift. The other is not a thing for sale,	85
and only the gift of the gods.
IACHIMO     Which the gods have given you?
POSTHUMUS     Which by their graces I will keep.
IACHIMO     You may wear her in title yours: but you know
strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your	90
ring may be stolen too: so your brace of unprizable
estimations, the one is but frail and the other casual; a
cunning thief, or a (that way) accomplished courtier,
would hazard the winning both of first and last.
POSTHUMUS     Your Italy contains none so accomplish’d	95
a courtier to convince the honour of my mistress, if
in the holding or loss of that, you term her frail: I do
nothing doubt you have store of thieves; notwith-
standing, I fear not my ring.
PHILARIO     Let us leave here, gentlemen.	100
POSTHUMUS     Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signior,
I thank him, makes no stranger of me; we are familiar
at first.
IACHIMO     With five times so much conversation, I
should get ground of your fair mistress; make her go	105
back, even to the yielding, had I admittance, and
opportunity to friend.
POSTHUMUS     No, no.
IACHIMO     I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my
estate, to your ring, which in my opinion o’ervalues it	110
something: but I make my wager rather against your
confidence than her reputation. And to bar your
offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any lady
in the world.
POSTHUMUS     You are a great deal abus’d in too bold a	115
persuasion, and I doubt not you sustain what you’re
worthy of by your attempt.
IACHIMO     What’s that?
POSTHUMUS     A repulse: though your attempt (as you
call it) deserve more; a punishment too.	120
PHILARIO     Gentlemen, enough of this, it came in too
suddenly, let it die as it was born, and I pray you be
better acquainted.
IACHIMO     Would I had put my estate and my
neighbour’s on th’approbation of what I have spoke!	125
POSTHUMUS     What lady would you choose to assail?
IACHIMO     Yours, whom in constancy you think stands so
safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring,
that, commend me to the court where your lady is,
with no more advantage than the opportunity of a	130
second conference, and I will bring from thence that
honour of hers, which you imagine so reserv’d.
POSTHUMUS     I will wage against your gold, gold to it:
my ring I hold dear as my finger, ’tis part of it.
IACHIMO     You are a friend, and therein the wiser. If you	135
buy ladies’ flesh at a million a dram, you cannot
preserve it from tainting; but I see you have some
religion in you, that you fear.
POSTHUMUS     This is but a custom in your tongue: you
bear a graver purpose I hope.	140
IACHIMO     I am the master of my speeches, and would
undergo what’s spoken, I swear.
POSTHUMUS     Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till
your return: let there be covenants drawn between’s.
My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your	145
unworthy thinking. I dare you to this match: here’s
my ring.
PHILARIO     I will have it no lay.
IACHIMO     By the gods, it is one. If I bring you no
sufficient testimony that I have enjoy’d the dearest	150
bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand ducats
are yours, so is your diamond too: if I come off, and
leave her in such honour as you have trust in, she your
jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are yours: provided
I have your commendation for my more free	155
entertainment.
POSTHUMUS     I embrace these conditions, let us have
articles betwixt us. Only, thus far you shall answer: if
you make your voyage upon her, and give me directly
to understand you have prevail’d, I am no further your	160
enemy; she is not worth our debate. If she remain
unseduc’d, you not making it appear otherwise, for
your ill opinion, and th’assault you have made to her
chastity, you shall answer me with your sword.
IACHIMO     Your hand, a covenant: we will have these	165
things set down by lawful counsel, and straight away
for Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold and
starve. I will fetch my gold, and have our two wagers
recorded.
POSTHUMUS     Agreed.     Exeunt Posthumus and Iachimo.	170
FRENCHMAN     Will this hold, think you?
PHILARIO     Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray let us
follow ’em.     Exeunt.

1.6 Enter QUEEN, Ladies and CORNELIUS.

QUEEN
Whiles yet the dew’s on ground, gather those
flowers;
Make haste. Who has the note of them?
1 LADY     I, madam.
QUEEN     Dispatch.     Exeunt Ladies.
Now master doctor, have you brought those drugs?
CORNELIUS
Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam:	5
[presenting a small box]
But I beseech your grace, without offence,
(My conscience bids me ask) wherefore you have
Commanded of me these most poisonous
compounds,
Which are the movers of a languishing death:
But though slow, deadly.
QUEEN     I wonder, doctor,	10
Thou ask’st me such a question. Have I not been
Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn’d me how
To make perfumes? Distil? Preserve? Yea so,
That our great king himself doth woo me oft
For my confections? Having thus far proceeded	15
(Unless thou think’st me devilish) is’t not meet
That I did amplify my judgement in
Other conclusions? I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging (but none human)	20
To try the vigour of them, and apply
Allayments to their act, and by them gather
Their several virtues, and effects.
CORNELIUS     Your highness
Shall from this practice but make hard your heart:
Besides, the seeing these effects will be	25
Both     noisome and infectious.
QUEEN     O, content thee.
Enter PISANIO.
[aside] Here comes a flattering rascal, upon him
Will I first work: he’s for his master,
And enemy to my son. How now, Pisanio?
Doctor, your service for this time is ended,	30
Take your own way.
CORNELIUS     [aside]     I do suspect you, madam;
But you shall do no harm.
QUEEN     [to Pisanio]     Hark thee, a word.
CORNELIUS     [aside]
I do not like her. She doth think she has
Strange ling’ring poisons: I do know her spirit;
And will not trust one of her malice with	35
A drug of such damn’d nature. Those she has
Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile;
Which first (perchance) she’ll prove on cats and
dogs,
Then afterward up higher: but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,	40
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool’d
With a most false effect: and I the truer,
So to be false with her.
QUEEN     No further service, doctor,
Until I send for thee.
CORNELIUS     I humbly take my leave.     Exit.	45
QUEEN
Weeps she still, say’st thou? Dost thou think in time
She will not quench, and let instructions enter
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work:
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son,
I’ll tell thee on the instant, thou art then	50
As great as is thy master: greater, for
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
Is at last gasp. Return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is: to shift his being
Is to exchange one misery with another,	55
And every day that comes comes to decay
A day’s work in him. What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans?
Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends,
So much as but to prop him?
[The Queen drops the box. Pisanio takes it up.]
Thou tak’st up	60
Thou know’st not what: but take it for thy labour:
It is a thing I made, which hath the king
Five times redeem’d from death. I do not know
What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee take it;
It is an earnest of a farther good	65
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her: do’t, as from thyself;
Think what a chance thou changest on; but think
Thou hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son,
Who shall take notice of thee. I’ll move the king	70
To any shape of thy preferment, such
As thou’lt desire: and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women:
Think on my words.     Exit Pisanio.
A sly and constant knave.	75
Not to be shak’d: the agent for his master,
And the remembrancer of her to hold
The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that,
Which if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of liegers for her sweet: and which she after,	80
Except she bend her humour, shall be assur’d
To taste of too.
Re-enter PISANIO and Ladies.
So, so: well done, well done:
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses
Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio;
Think on my words.     Exeunt Queen and Ladies.
PISANIO     And shall do:	85
But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I’ll choke myself: there’s all I’ll do for you.     Exit.

1.7 Enter IMOGEN alone.

IMOGEN     A father cruel, and a step-dame false,
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,
That hath her husband banish’d: – O, that husband,
My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stolen,	5
As my two brothers, happy: but most miserable
Is the desire that’s glorious. Bless’d be those,
How 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,	10
Comes from my lord with letters.
IACHIMO     Change you, madam:
The worthy Leonatus is in safety,
And greets your highness dearly. [Presents a letter.]
IMOGEN     Thanks, good sir:
You’re kindly welcome.
IACHIMO     [aside]
All of her that is out of door most rich!	15
If she be furnish’d 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,
Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight;	20
Rather, directly fly.
IMOGEN     [Reads.] He is one of the noblest note, to whose
kindnesses I am infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accord-
ingly, as you value your trust –
LEONATUS.	25
So far I read aloud.
But even the very middle of my heart
Is warm’d by th’ rest, and takes it thankfully.
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
Have words to bid you, and shall find it so	30
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
Of sea and land, which can distinguish ’twixt
The fiery orbs above, and the twinn’d stones	35
Upon the number’d beach, and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
’Twixt fair, and foul?
IMOGEN     What makes your admiration?
IACHIMO     It cannot be i’th’ eye: for apes and monkeys,
’Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way, and	40
Contemn with mows the other. Nor i’the judgement:
For idiots in this case of favour, would
Be wisely definite: nor i’th’ appetite.
Sluttery, to such neat excellence oppos’d,
Should make desire vomit emptiness,	45
Not so allur’d to feed.
IMOGEN     What is the matter, trow?
IACHIMO     The cloyed will –
That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub
Both     fill’d and running-ravening first the lamb,
Longs after for the garbage.
IMOGEN     What, dear sir,	50
Thus 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,
To give him welcome.     Exit.	55
IMOGEN
Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you?
IACHIMO     Well, madam.
IMOGEN     Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.
IACHIMO     Exceeding pleasant: none a stranger there,
So merry and so gamesome: he is call’d	60
The Briton reveller.
IMOGEN     When he was here
He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
Not knowing why.
IACHIMO     I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves	65
A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces
The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton
(Your lord, I mean) laughs from’s free lungs: cries ‘O,
Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows
By history, report, or his own proof,	70
What woman is, yea what she cannot choose
But must be, will’s free hours languish for
Assured bondage?’
IMOGEN     Will my lord say so?
IACHIMO
Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter:
It is a recreation to be by	75
And 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
Be us’d more thankfully. In himself ’tis much;
In you, which I account his, beyond all talents.	80
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pity too.
IMOGEN     What do you pity, sir?
IACHIMO     Two creatures heartily.
IMOGEN     Am I one, sir?
You look on me: what wrack discern you in me
Deserves your pity?
IACHIMO     Lamentable! What	85
To 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?
IACHIMO     That others do	90
(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
Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you,
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more	95
Than to be sure they do – for certainties
Either are past remedies; or timely knowing,
The remedy then born – discover to me
What both you spur and stop.
IACHIMO     Had I this cheek
To bathe my lips upon: this hand, whose touch	100
(Whose every touch) would force the feeler’s soul
To th’oath of loyalty: this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Firing it only here; should I (damn’d then)
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs	105
That mount the Capitol: join gripes, with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood (falsehood, as
With labour): then by-peeping in an eye
Base and illustrous as the smoky light
That’s fed with stinking tallow: it were fit	110
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.
IMOGEN     My lord, I fear,
Has forgot Britain.
IACHIMO     And himself. Not I,
Inclin’d to this intelligence, pronounce
The beggary of his change: but ’tis your graces	115
That 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
So fair, and fasten’d to an empery	120
Would make the great’st king double, to be partner’d
With tomboys hir’d with that self exhibition
Which your own coffers yield! with diseas’d ventures,
That play with all infirmities for gold
Which rottenness can lend Nature! Such boil’d stuff	125
As well might poison poison! Be reveng’d,
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.
IMOGEN     Reveng’d!
How should I be reveng’d? If this be true,
(As I have such a heart that both mine ears	130
Must not in haste abuse) if it be true,
How should I be reveng’d?
IACHIMO     Should he make me
Live like Diana’s priest, betwixt cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse – Revenge it.	135
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed,
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.
IMOGEN     What ho, Pisanio!
IACHIMO     Let me my service tender on your lips.	140
IMOGEN     Away, I do condemn mine ears, that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek’st, as base, as strange.
Thou wrong’st a gentleman, who is as far	145
From thy report as thou from honour, and
Solicits 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	150
A saucy stranger in his court to mart
As 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!	155
IACHIMO     O happy Leonatus! I may say:
The credit that thy lady hath of thee
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
Her assur’d credit. Blessed live you long!
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever	160
Country call’d his; and you, his mistress, only
For 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	165
The truest manner’d: such a holy witch
That 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 honour sets him off,	170
More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
Most mighty princess, that I have adventur’d
To try your taking of a false report, which hath
Honour’d with confirmation your great judgement
In the election of a sir so rare,	175
Which 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.
IACHIMO     My humble thanks. I had almost forgot	180
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.
IMOGEN     Pray, what is’t?
IACHIMO     Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord	185
(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
In France: ’tis plate of rare device, and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great,	190
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in safe stowage: may it please you
To take them in protection?
IMOGEN     Willingly:
And pawn mine honour for their safety, since
My lord hath interest in them; I will keep them	195
In my bedchamber.
IACHIMO     They are in a trunk
Attended by my men: I will make bold
To send them to you, only for this night:
I must abroad to-morrow.
IMOGEN     O, no, no.
IACHIMO     Yes, I beseech: or I shall short my word	200
By length’ning my return. From Gallia
I cross’d the seas on purpose and on promise
To see your grace.
IMOGEN     I thank you for your pains:
But not away to-morrow!
IACHIMO     O, I must madam.
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please	205
To greet your lord with writing, do’t to-night:
I have outstood my time, which is material
To th’ tender of our present.
IMOGEN     I will write.
Send your trunk to me, it shall safe be kept,
And truly yielded you: you’re very welcome.     Exeunt.	210

2.1 Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.

CLOTEN     Was there ever man had such luck? When I
kissed the jack upon an upcast, to be hit away! I had a
hundred pound on’t: and then a whoreson jackanapes
must take me up for swearing, as if I borrowed mine
oaths of him, and might not spend them at my	5
pleasure.
1 LORD     What got he by that? You have broke his pate
with your bowl.
2 LORD     [aside] If his wit had been like him that broke it,
it would have run all out.	10
CLOTEN     When a gentleman is dispos’d to swear, it is not
for any standers-by to curtail his oaths. Ha?
2 LORD     No, my lord; [aside] nor crop the ears of them.
CLOTEN     Whoreson dog! I gave him satisfaction! Would
he had been one of my rank!	15
2 LORD     [aside] To have smelt like a fool.
CLOTEN     I am not vex’d more at any thing in th’earth: a
pox on’t! I had rather not be so noble as I am: they dare
not fight with me, because of the queen my mother:
every Jack-slave hath his bellyful of fighting, and I	20
must go up and down like a cock, that nobody can
match.
2 LORD     [aside] You are cock and capon too, and you
crow, cock, with your comb on.
CLOTEN     Sayest thou?	25
2 LORD     It is not fit your lordship should undertake
every companion that you give offence to.
CLOTEN     No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit
offence to my inferiors.
2 LORD     Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.	30
CLOTEN     Why, so I say.
1 LORD     Did you hear of a stranger that’s come to court
to-night?
CLOTEN     A stranger, and I know not on’t?
2 LORD     [aside] He’s a strange fellow himself, and	35
knows it not.
1 LORD     There’s an Italian come, and ’tis thought one of
Leonatus’ friends.
CLOTEN     Leonatus? A banished rascal; and he’s another,
whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger?	40
1 LORD     One of your lordship’s pages.
CLOTEN     Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no
derogation in’t?
2 LORD     You cannot derogate, my lord.
CLOTEN     Not easily, I think.	45
2 LORD     [aside] You are a fool granted, therefore your
issues being foolish do not derogate.
CLOTEN     Come, I’ll go see this Italian: what I have lost
to-day at bowls I’ll win to-night of him. Come: go.
2 LORD     I’ll attend your lordship.	50
Exeunt Cloten and First Lord.
That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass! a woman that
Bears all down with her brain, and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,
And leave eighteen. Alas poor princess,	55
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur’st,
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern’d,
A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act	60
Of the divorce, he’ld make. The heavens hold firm
The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshak’d
That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand,
T’enjoy thy banish’d lord and this great land!     Exit.

2.2 Enter IMOGEN in her bed, and a Lady.

IMOGEN     Who’s there? my woman Helen?
LADY     Please you, madam.
IMOGEN     What hour is it?
LADY     Almost midnight, madam.
IMOGEN
I have read three hours then: mine eyes are weak,
Fold down the leaf where I have left: to bed.
Take not away the taper, leave it burning:	5
And if thou canst awake by four o’th’ clock,
I prithee call me. Sleep hath seiz’d me wholly.
Exit Lady.
To your protection I commend me, gods,
From fairies and the tempters of the night,
Guard me, beseech ye!	10
[Sleeps. Iachimo comes from the trunk.]
IACHIMO
The crickets sing, and man’s o’er-labour’d sense
Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken’d
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! fresh lily!	15
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss, one kiss! Rubies unparagon’d,
How dearly they do’t: ’tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o’th’ taper
Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids,	20
To see th’enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure lac’d
With blue of heaven’s own tinct. But my design.
To note the chamber: I will write all down:
Such, and such pictures: there the window, such	25
Th’adornment of her bed; the arras, figures,
Why, such, and such; and the contents o’th’ story.
Ah, but some natural notes about her body
Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify, t’enrich mine inventory.	30
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her,
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying. Come off, come off;
[taking off her bracelet]
As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard.
’Tis mine, and this will witness outwardly,	35
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To th’ madding of her lord. On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted: like the crimson drops
I’th’ bottom of a cowslip. Here’s a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make; this secret	40
Will force him think I have pick’d the lock, and ta’en
The treasure of her honour. No more: to what end?
Why should I write this down, that’s riveted,
Screw’d to my memory? She hath been reading late,
The tale of Tereus, here the leaf’s turn’d down	45
Where Philomel gave up. I have enough:
To th’ trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning
May bare the raven’s eye! I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.	50
[Clock strikes.]
One, two, three: time, time!
[Goes into the trunk. The scene closes.]

2.3 Enter CLOTEN and Lords.

1 LORD     Your lordship is the most patient man in loss,
the most coldest that ever turn’d up ace.
CLOTEN     It would make any man cold to lose.
1 LORD     But not every man patient after the noble
temper of your lordship. You are most hot and furious	5
when you win.
CLOTEN     Winning will put any man into courage. If I
could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold
enough. It’s almost morning, is’t not?
1 LORD     Day, my lord.	10
CLOTEN     I would this music would come: I am advised
to give her music a mornings, they say it will
penetrate.
Enter Musicians.
Come on, tune: if you can penetrate her with your
fingering, so: we’ll try with tongue too: if none will do,	15
let her remain: but I’ll never give o’er. First, a very
excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful
sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let
her consider.
SONG
Hark, hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings,	20
And Phoebus gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chalic’d flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their golden
eyes;
With every thing that pretty is, my lady sweet arise:	25
Arise, arise!
CLOTEN     So get you gone: if this penetrate, I will
consider your music the better: if it do not, it is a vice
in her ears, which horse-hairs, and calves’-guts, nor
the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never	30
amend.     Exeunt musicians.
2 LORD     Here comes the king.
CLOTEN     I am glad I was up so late, for that’s the reason
I was up so early: he cannot choose but take this
service I have done fatherly.	35
Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN.
Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious
mother.
CYMBELINE
Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
Will she not forth?
CLOTEN     I have assail’d her with musics, but she	40
vouchsafes no notice.
CYMBELINE     The exile of her minion is too new,
She hath not yet forgot him, some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance on’t,
And then she’s yours.
QUEEN     You are most bound to th’ king,	45
Who lets go by no vantages that may
Prefer you to his daughter: frame yourself
To orderly solicits, and be friended
With aptness of the season: make denials
Increase your services: so seem, as if	50
You were inspir’d to do those duties which
You tender to her: that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.
CLOTEN     Senseless? not so.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER
So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome;	55
The one is Caius Lucius.
CYMBELINE     A worthy fellow,
Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;
But that’s no fault of his: we must receive him
According to the honour of his sender,
And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us,	60
We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
When you have given good morning to your mistress,
Attend the queen and us; we will have need
T’employ you towards this Roman. Come, our
queen.     Exeunt all but Cloten.
CLOTEN     If she be up, I’ll speak with her: if not,	65
Let her lie still, and dream. By your leave, ho!
[Knocks.]
I know her women are about her: what
If I do line one of their hands? ’Tis gold
Which buys admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes
Diana’s rangers false themselves, yield up	70
Their deer to th’ stand o’th’ stealer: and ’tis gold
Which makes the true-man kill’d, and saves the thief:
Nay, sometime hangs both thief, and true-man: what
Can it not do, and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me, for	75
I yet not understand the case myself.
By your leave. [Knocks.]
Enter a Lady.
LADY     Who’s there that knocks?
CLOTEN     A gentleman.
LADY     No more?
CLOTEN     Yes, and a gentlewoman’s son.
LADY     That’s more
Than some whose tailors are as dear as yours	80
Can justly boast of. What’s your lordship’s pleasure?
CLOTEN     Your lady’s person, is she ready?
LADY     Ay,
To keep her chamber.
CLOTEN     There is gold for you,
Sell me your good report.
LADY     How, my good name? or to report of you	85
What I shall think is good? The princess!     Exit Lady.
Enter IMOGEN.
CLOTEN     Good morrow, fairest: sister, your sweet hand.
IMOGEN     Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
For purchasing but trouble: the thanks I give
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,	90
And scarce can spare them.
CLOTEN     Still I swear I love you.
IMOGEN     If you but said so, ’twere as deep with me:
If you swear still, your recompense is still
That I regard it not.
CLOTEN     This is no answer.
IMOGEN     But that you shall not say I yield being silent,	95
I would not speak. I pray you spare me: ’faith
I shall unfold equal discourtesy
To your best kindness: one of your great knowing
Should learn (being taught) forbearance.
CLOTEN     To leave you in your madness, ’twere my sin,	100
I will not.
IMOGEN     Fools are not mad folks.
CLOTEN     Do you call me fool?
IMOGEN     As I am mad I do:
If you’ll be patient, I’ll no more be mad,
That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,	105
You put me to forget a lady’s manners,
By being so verbal: and learn now, for all,
That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
By th’ very truth of it, I care not for you,
And am so near the lack of charity.	110
(To accuse myself) I hate you: which I had rather
You felt than make’t my boast.
CLOTEN     You sin against
Obedience, which you owe your father; for
The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
One bred of alms, and foster’d with cold dishes,	115
With scraps o’th’ court, it is no contract, none;
And though it be allow’d in meaner parties
(Yet who than he more mean?) to knit their souls
(On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary) in self-figur’d knot,	120
Yet you are curb’d from that enlargement, by
The consequence o’th’ crown, and must not foil
The precious note of it; with a base slave,
A hiding for a livery, a squire’s cloth,
A pantler; not so eminent.
IMOGEN     Profane fellow,	125
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom: thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if ’twere made
Comparative for your virtues to be styled	130
The under-hangman of his kingdom; and hated
For being preferr’d so well.
CLOTEN     The south-fog rot him!
IMOGEN
He never can meet more mischance than come
To be but nam’d of thee. His mean’st garment,
That ever hath but clipp’d his body, is dearer	135
In my respect, than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made such men. How now, Pisanio!
Enter PISANIO.
CLOTEN     ‘His garment!’ Now, the devil –
IMOGEN     To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently.
CLOTEN     ‘His garment!’
IMOGEN     I am sprited with a fool,	140
Frighted, and anger’d worse. Go bid my woman
Search for a jewel, that too casually
Hath left mine arm: it was thy master’s. ’Shrew me,
If I would lose it for a revenue
Of any king’s in Europe! I do think	145
I saw’t this morning: confident I am.
Last night ’twas on mine arm; I kiss’d it:
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.
PISANIO     ’Twill not be lost.
IMOGEN     I hope so: go and search.     Exit Pisanio.
CLOTEN     You have abus’d me:	150
‘His meanest garment!’
IMOGEN     Ay, I said so, sir:
If you will make’t an action, call witness to’t.
CLOTEN     I will inform your father.
IMOGEN     Your mother too:
She’s my good lady; and will conceive, I hope,
But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir,	155
To th’ worst of discontent.     Exit.
CLOTEN     I’ll be reveng’d:
‘His mean’st garment!’ Well.     Exit.