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Authors: William Shakespeare

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Cymbeline and Innogen converse apart

BELARIUS
    Is not this boy revived from death?

ARVIRAGUS
    One sand another

Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad

Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?

GUIDERIUS
    The same dead thing alive.

BELARIUS
    Peace, peace, see further: he
eyes
us not,
forbear.
145

Creatures may be alike: were’t he, I am sure

He would have spoke to us.

GUIDERIUS
    
But we see him dead.
148

BELARIUS
    Be silent: let’s see further.

Aside

PISANIO
    It is my mistress:

Since she is living, let the time run on

To good or bad.

Cymbeline and Innogen come forward

CYMBELINE
    Come, stand thou by our side,

To Iachimo

Make thy demand aloud.— 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 honour, bitter torture shall

Winnow
158
the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.

INNOGEN
    My boon is that this gentleman may
render
159

Points to the ring

Of whom he had this ring.

Aside

POSTHUMUS
    What’s that to him?

To Iachimo

CYMBELINE
    That diamond upon your finger, say,

How came it yours?

IACHIMO
    
Thou’lt torture me
164
to leave unspoken that

Which to be spoke would torture thee.

CYMBELINE
    How? Me?

IACHIMO
    I am glad to be constrained to utter that

Which 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?

CYMBELINE
    
All that belongs to this.
173

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:

I had rather thou shouldst live
while nature will
178

Than die
ere
179
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 — O, would

Our
viands
183
had been poisoned, or at least

Those which I
heaved to head!
184
— 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
187
,

Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

For beauty that
made barren
189
the swelled boast

Of him that best could speak: for
feature
,
laming
190

The
shrine
of
Venus
or
straight-pight
Minerva
191
,

Postures
beyond
brief nature
: for
condition
192
,

A
shop
193
of all the qualities that man

Loves woman for, besides that
hook of wiving
194
,

Fairness which strikes the eye—

CYMBELINE
    
I stand on fire.
196

Come to the
matter.
197

IACHIMO
    All too soon I shall,

Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,

Most like a noble lord in love and one

That had a royal lover, took his
hint
201
,

And not dispraising whom we praised — therein

He was as calm as virtue — he began

His mistress’ picture, which by his tongue being made,

And then a
mind put in’t
205
, either our brags

Were
cracked of
kitchen
-
trulls
206
, or his description

Proved us
unspeaking sots.
207

CYMBELINE
    Nay, nay,
to th’purpose.
208

IACHIMO
    Your daughter’s chastity — there it begins.

He spake of her
as Dian
had
hot
210
dreams

And
she
alone were
cold
211
: whereat I, wretch,

Made
scruple
212
of his praise, and wagered with him

Pieces of gold gainst this, which then he wore

Upon his honoured finger, to attain

In suit
215
the place of’s bed and win this ring

By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,

No lesser of her honour confident

Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring,

And would so had it been a
carbuncle
219

Of Phoebus’ wheel
, and
might so
220
safely had it

Been all the worth
of’s car.
221
Away to Britain

Post
222
I in this design: well may you, sir,

Remember me at court, where I was taught

Of
224
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
227
operate

Most vilely: for my
vantage
228
, excellent.

And, to be brief, my practice so prevailed

That I returned with
simular
230
proof enough

To make the noble Leonatus mad

By wounding his belief in her
renown
232

With tokens
thus, and thus
:
averring
233
notes

Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet —

Shows the bracelet

O, 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
237
,

I having ta’en the
forfeit.
238
Whereupon —

Methinks I see him now—

Comes forward

POSTHUMUS
    Ay, so thou dost,

Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,

Egregious murderer, thief,
anything
242

That’s due to all the villains past,
in being
243
,

To come! O, give me
cord
244
, or knife, or poison,

Some upright
justicer!
245
Thou, king, send out

For torturers
ingenious
246
: it is I

That all
th’abhorrèd
things o’th’earth
amend
247

By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,

That killed thy daughter — villain-like, I lie —

That caused a lesser villain than myself,

A
sacrilegious thief
, to do’t. The
temple
251

Of virtue was she; yea, and
she herself.
252

Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set

The dogs o’th’street to
bay
254
me: every villain

Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and

Be villainy less than ’twas!
256
O Innogen!

My queen, my life, my wife: O Innogen,

Innogen, Innogen!

She runs to him?

INNOGEN
    Peace, my lord, hear, hear.

POSTHUMUS
    
Shall’s have
260
a play of this? Thou scornful page,

There lie thy part.
261

He strikes her and she falls

PISANIO
    O, gentlemen, help!

Mine and your mistress: O, my lord Posthumus,

You ne’er killed Innogen till now. Help, help!

Mine honoured lady.

CYMBELINE
    Does the world go round?

POSTHUMUS
    How comes these
staggers
267
on me?

PISANIO
    Wake, my mistress!

CYMBELINE
    If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me

To death with
mortal
270
joy.

PISANIO
    How fares my mistress?

INNOGEN
    O, get thee from my sight,

Thou gavest me poison: dangerous fellow, hence!

Breathe not where princes are.

CYMBELINE
    The
tune
275
of Innogen.

PISANIO
    Lady, the gods throw
stones of sulphur
276
on me if

That box I gave you was not thought by me

A precious thing: I had it from the queen.

CYMBELINE
    New matter still.

INNOGEN
    It poisoned me.

CORNELIUS
    O gods!

I left out one thing which the queen confessed,

Which must
approve
283
thee honest. ‘If Pisanio

Have’, said she, ‘given his mistress that
confection
284

Which I gave him
for cordial
285
, she is served

As I would serve a rat.’

CYMBELINE
    What’s this, Cornelius?

CORNELIUS
    The queen, sir, very oft importuned me

To
temper
poisons for her,
still pretending
289

The satisfaction of her knowledge only

In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,

Of no
esteem.
292
I, dreading that her purpose

Was of more danger, did compound for her

A certain stuff which, being ta’en, would
cease
294

The present power of life, but in short time

All
offices of nature
296
should again

Do their due functions. Have you ta’en of it?

INNOGEN
    
Most like
298
I did, for I was dead.

BELARIUS
    My boys,

There was our error.

GUIDERIUS
    This is
sure
301
Fidele.

INNOGEN
    Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?

Think that you are upon a rock, and now

Embraces him

Throw me again.

POSTHUMUS
    Hang there like fruit, my soul,

Till
the tree
306
die.

CYMBELINE
    How now, my flesh, my child?

What,
mak’st thou me a dullard in this act?
308

Wilt thou not speak to me?

Kneels

INNOGEN
    Your blessing, sir.

To Guiderius and Arviragus

BELARIUS
    Though you did love this youth, I blame ye not.

You had a
motive
312
for’t.

CYMBELINE
    My tears that fall

Prove holy water on thee! Innogen,

Thy
mother’s
315
dead.

INNOGEN
    I am sorry for’t, my lord.

CYMBELINE
    O, she was
naught
, and
long of
317
her it was

That we meet here so
strangely
318
: but her son

Is gone, we know not how nor where.

PISANIO
    My lord,

Now fear is from me, I’ll speak troth. Lord Cloten,

Upon my lady’s
missing
322
, came to me

With his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and swore,

If I
discovered
324
not which way she was gone,

It was my instant death. By
accident
325
,

I had a
feignèd letter
326
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,

Which he
enforced
from me, away he
posts
330

With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate

My lady’s honour. What became of him

I further know not.

GUIDERIUS
    Let me end the story:

I slew him there.

CYMBELINE
    Marry, the gods
forfend!
336

I would not thy good deeds should from my lips

Pluck a hard sentence: prithee, valiant youth,

Deny’t again.
339

GUIDERIUS
    I have spoke it, and I did it.

CYMBELINE
    
He was a prince.
341

GUIDERIUS
    A most
incivil
342
one. The wrongs he did me

Were nothing prince-like, 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,

And am right glad he is not standing here

To tell this tale of mine.
347

CYMBELINE
    I am
sorrow
348
for thee:

By thine own tongue thou art condemned, and must

Endure our law: thou’rt
dead.
350

INNOGEN
    That headless man

I thought had been my lord.

CYMBELINE
    Bind the offender,

And take him from our presence.

BELARIUS
    Stay, sir king.

This man is better than the man he slew,

As well descended
357
as thyself, and hath

More
of
thee
merited
358
than a band of Clotens

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