CYMBELINE
Nay, nay, to th’ purpose.
GIACOMO
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
Upon his honoured 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 honour confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring—
And 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
Of 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.
And, 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
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her 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,
I having ta’en the forfeit. Whereupon—
Methinks I see him now—
POSTHUMUS (
coming forward
) Ay, so thou dost,
Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, anything
That’s due to all the villains past, in being,
To come! O, 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,
That 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
The dogs o‘th’ street to bay me. Every villain
Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and
Be ‘villain’ less than ’twas! O Innogen!
My queen, my life, my wife, O Innogen,
Innogen, Innogen!
INNOGEN (
approaching him
) Peace, my lord. Hear, hear.
POSTHUMUS
Shall ’s have a play of this? Thou scornful page,
There lie thy part.
PISANIO (
coming forward
) O gentlemen, help!
Mine and your mistress! O my lord Posthumus,
You ne’er killed Innogen till now. Help, help!
(To Innogen
) Mine honoured lady.
CYMBELINE
Does the world go round?
POSTHUMUS
How comes these staggers on me?
PISANIO (
to Innogen
)
Wake, my mistress.
CYMBELINE
If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me
To death with mortal joy.
PISANIO (
to Innogen
) How fares my mistress?
INNOGEN O, get thee from my sight!
Thou gav’st me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence.
Breathe not where princes are.
CYMBELINE
The tune of Innogen.
PISANIO
Lady, the gods throw stones of sulphur 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
(
To Pisanio
) Which must approve thee honest. ’If Pisanio
Have‘, 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
To 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
A 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. (
To Innogen
) Have you ta’en
of it?
INNOGEN
Most like I did, for I was dead.
BELARIUS (
aside to Guiderius and Arviragus
) My boys,
There was our error.
GUIDERIUS
This is sure Fidele.
INNOGEN (
to Posthumus
)
Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?
Think that you are upon a lock, and now
Throw me again.
She throws her arms about his neck
POSTHUMUS
Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Till the tree die.
CYMBELINE (
to Innogen
) How now, my flesh, my child?
What, mak’st thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?
INNOGEN (
kneeling
)
Your blessing, sir.
BELARIUS (
aside 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!
Innogen,
Thy mother’s dead.
INNOGEN
I am sorry for’t, my lord.
CYMBELINE
O, 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.
PISANIO
My lord,
Now fear is from me I’ll speak truth. Lord Cloten,
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
It was my instant death. By accident
I had a feigned 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,
Which he enforced from me, away he posts
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!
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.
CYMBELINE He was a prince.
GUIDERIUS
A most incivil 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.
CYMBELINE
I am sorrow for thee.
By thine own tongue thou art condemned, and must
Endure our law. Thou’rt dead.
INNOGEN
That headless man
I thought had been my lord.
CYMBELINE (
to soldiers
)
Bind the offender,
And take him from our presence.
BELARIUS
Stay, sir King.
This boy is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself, and hath
More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for. Let his arms alone;
They were not born for bondage.
CYMBELINE
Why, old soldier,
Wilt 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 ⌈
to Belarius
⌉
And thou shalt die for’t.
BELARIUS
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.
ARVIRAGUS
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.
CYMBELINE
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 soldiers
)
Take him hence.
The 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.
CYMBELINE
Nursing of my sons?
BELARIUS
I am too blunt and saucy. (
Kneeling
) 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
And 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,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banished.
Your pleasure was my mere offence, 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
Have 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,
Having 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,
Here 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.
CYMBELINE
Thou weep‘st, and speak’st.
The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tell’st. I lost my children.
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
BELARIUS ⌈
rising
⌉
Be pleased a while.
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
In 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.
It 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.
CYMBELINE
O, what am I?
A mother to the birth of three? Ne’er mother
Rejoiced deliverance more. Blest pray you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now!
⌈
Guiderius and Arviragus rise
⌉