Cymbeline

By William Shakespeare

One of Shakespeare's final works, Cymbeline uses virtuoso theatrical and poetic means to dramatize a story of marriage imperiled by mistrust and painfully rebuilt in the context of international conflict.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Start Publishing LLC
• Release date: Apr 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781625589842

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare is the world's greatest ever playwright. Born in 1564, he split his time between Stratford-upon-Avon and London, where he worked as a playwright, poet and actor. In 1582 he married Anne Hathaway. Shakespeare died in 1616 at the age of fifty-two, leaving three children—Susanna, Hamnet and Judith. The rest is silence.

Book preview

ACT I

ACT I. SCENE I. Britain. The garden of CYMBELINE’S palace

FIRST 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.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: But what’s the matter?

FIRST GENTLEMAN: His daughter, and the heir of’s kingdom, whom

He purpos’d to his wife’s sole son— a widow

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.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: None but the King?

FIRST 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.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: And why so?

FIRST 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

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.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: You speak him far.

FIRST GENTLEMAN: I do extend him, sir, within himself;

Crush him together rather than unfold

His measure duly.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: What’s his name and birth?

FIRST GENTLEMAN: I cannot delve him to the root; his father

Was call’d Sicilius, who did join his honour

Against the Romans with Cassibelan,

But had his titles by Tenantius, whom

He serv’d with glory and admir’d 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,

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

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 minist’red,

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,

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.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: I honour him

Even out of your report. But pray you tell me,

Is she sole child to th’ King?

FIRST 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

Which way they went.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: How long is this ago?

FIRST GENTLEMAN: Some twenty years.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: That a king’s children should be so convey’d,

So slackly guarded, and the search so slow

That could not trace them!

FIRST GENTLEMAN: Howsoe’er ‘tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh’d at,

Yet is it true, sir.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: I do well believe you.

FIRST GENTLEMAN: We must forbear; here comes the gentleman,

The Queen, and Princess. Exeunt

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,

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,

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

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

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

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,

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

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.

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?

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

[Puts on the ring]

While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest,

As I my poor self did exchange for you,

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. [Puts a bracelet on her arm]

IMOGEN: O the gods!

When shall we see again?

Enter CYMBELINE and LORDS

POSTHUMUS: Alack, the King!

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!

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.

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,

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.

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

Our neighbour shepherd’s son!

Re—enter QUEEN

CYMBELINE: Thou foolish thing!

[To the 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,

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. Exit, with LORDS

Enter PISANIO

QUEEN: Fie! you must give way.

Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news?

PISANIO: My lord your son drew on my master.

QUEEN: Ha!

No harm, I trust, is

Reviews for Cymbeline

[magnuscanis · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Of the Shakespeare plays I've read so far (probably about a dozen or so), this is probably my favourite. I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly why I liked it so much, but I did. The final scene, in particular, is well described as a theatrical tour de force as it relentlessly brings one revelation after another to tie up all the various subplots and bring about the reconciliation of all the still-living characters.

[jeff5maynes · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Cymbeline defies the standard genre divisions in the Shakespeare corpus. It sets itself up as a tragedy, with a scheming villain defiling the reputation of a young princess (e.g., Othello), murder plots and poison. Yet, the resolution is famously happy, with the main love interests reconciled and peace between Britain and the Romans obtained. It makes for an interesting read, but it is this happy ending which is the most common point of dispute over this work. Not only is the play a happy ending, but the circumstances seem to simply come from one speech after another laying all of the scheming bare. First, Iachimo tearfully confesses his crime, followed by the posthumous confessions of the Queen, ending in Belarius' revealing that his sons were in fact the sons of Cymbeline, and so Princes of Britain. These events happen quickly, and the plots of the book are simply pointed out in convenient speeches. I have been told that it performs far better than it reads, but the problem is not with Shakespeare challenging the genre, but rather with the rapidity and tidiness of the conclusion.On the other hand, there is another layer present in the ending. Cymbeline takes place in the time of Caesar Augustus, and also the time of the birth of Christ. Though not referenced directly, the plays fortuitous conclusion and honorable peace indicate an era of peace dawning on a conflicted land. One might read the ending of the book as revealing the power of the Christian's savior to bring peace to the Earth.It also lacks a powerful villain. The Queen's plots come in early, but are pushed to the side as the play progresses. Iachimo, whose betrayal of Imogen sets the main conflicts in motion, is merely a charlatan attempting to win a bet. Like the Queen, once his damage is done, he plays little role in the events. Cloten is consistently obnoxious, and when he attempts to engage in some dastardly deeds, he is promptly killed in the attempt. They play more like the villains of the comedies, whose schemes move the plot along, but who do not take center stage.Despite these complaints, it is still a work of literary beauty, filled within Shakespearean genius. In particular, the scene where Pisanio reveals his letter from Posthumous to Imogen is gripping. It is poetic and passionate, as Imogen reveals the strength of her character, dominating the scene and Pisanio. It also contains some moving poetry, most notably the first song (II.3, 19-27):Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate singsAnd Phoebus gins arise,His steeds to water at those springsOn chaliced flowers that lies;And winking Mary-Buds beginTo ope their golden eyes.With every thing that pretty is,My lady sweet, arise,Arise, arise!

[alanwpowers · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

"Cymbeline" I considered a difficult play to stage until a surprisingly coherent version at the Huntington Theater, in 1991 when my grad school classmate Peter Altman ran the show, the theater. But reading it under the Trumpster makes all Iachimo’s lies problematic; our context changes the register of the play, disenchants it.So many Shakespeare villains articulate truths, like Iago, and here, the clod Cloten, whose assault on the married Imogen gave me the title to my book on Shakespeare and popular culture, which I called "Meaner Parties."* Cloten says of her marriage to Leonatus, “It is no contract, none;/ And though it be allowed in meaner parties…to knit their souls,/ On whom there is no more dependency/ But brats and beggary, in self-figur’d knot,/ Yet you are curbed…by the consequence of a crown…”(II.iii.116ff) He refers to canon law’s accepting, in York Dean Swinburne’s Of Spousals, handshake marriages—as long as there were witnesses to the vows spoken along with the ring or token. By the way, three centuries before DeBeers, engagement and marriage rings weren't distinct; both could be military or wax-sealrings. A couple scenes prior to Cloten here, Iachimo comes to England with a letter of endorsement, part of a bet, from Posthumus Leonatus (I.vi). Posthumus had been exiled to Italy by Cymbelene for displacing the new queen’s execrable son Cloten in Imogen’s affection—in fact, marrying her. As in Merchant of Venice, where Shylock compares his daughter and his ducats, his dearest possessions, Posthumous compares Imogen’s gift ring and herself; to Iachimo’s taunt, “I have not seen the most precious diamond that there is, nor you the lady,” Posthumus rejoins, “I praised her as I rated her: so do I my stone.” Iachimo even refers to Imogen as “she your jewel” to accompany the diamond, “this your jewel”(I.iv.153).Having set up so close a comparison—indeed, an identity— between the token jewel and the lover jewel, no wonder Posthumus falls apart when Iachimo brings back the bracelet he’d stolen from Imogen. Posthumus’s friend Philario notes he is “Quite beyond the government of patience!”(II.iv.150)—rather like a certain new Supreme Court judge.Later confessing to King Cymbeline’s inquiry, “How came it yours?” about the diamond on his finger, Iachimo blurts out that he defamed Imogen with token evidence, “that he could not / But think her bond of chastity quite crack’d,/ I having taken this forfeit”(V.v.206). Posthumus need not have so concluded had he not merged token and person so strongly in his own mind. But Renaissance marriage-court records fill with rings and bracelets betokening contract, whereas in fact it was the words accompanying the token, the vow, that counted in law. What we call domestic court were then in church, canon courts like Deacon Swinburne’s in York Minster (the room still exists, with three judge chairs on a raised dias, now used as a vestry). Shakespeare’s plays feature tokens and vows. Cymbeline could have learned how to run a ring court from the King of France in All’s Well. And of course Twelfth Night boasts the most rings of the Bard’s plays. (See my “Early Modern Rings and Vows in TN,” in Twelfth Night: New Critical Essays (NY: Routledge, 2011), ed. James Schiffer. Note: I quote from my old Harrison edition, which uses Iachimo, not Jachimo.* "meaner" in Elizabethan usage, lower status "parties" (in the legal sense)...average Joes and Jo's

[antiquary_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Shaw disliked the complex ending, but I found it very funny.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Willie seems to have been fixated on men who don't trust their wives. Maybe Anne was fooling around on him. Kind of a weird meandering story. Too many elements to maintain my interest.

[coach_of_alva · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I sensed that Shakespeare trying to reuse his favorite dramatic devices, including: jealous lovers, wronged women, plucky heroines, male impersonation, scheming villains, idyllic landscapes, wise clowns. I also couldn't help noticing that, although the Bard called the play a tragedy, he was using a romantic comedy / adventure plot. He also gave the "tragedy" a happy ending, albeit a very complicated one. He had to unwind a large number of plot entanglements in one act. I found that complicated to read and wondered how it could be staged without turning into a train wreck. Despite that, I quite enjoyed reading the play, a rousing adventure with great characters. I thought was a vast improvement over the collaborations and a welcome lightening of tone.

[deptstoremook · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I was heartened to read in the New York Times today that I wasn't the only one who was knocked off-course by the almost deliberately confusing plot and character interactions.

[bookworm12_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is one of Shakespeare’s most convoluted plots. It combines bits and pieces from his greatest works, but in a strange way. There’s a battle to rival that in Henry V, parental ghosts like Hamlet, a jealous husband like Othello and ill-fated lovers and faked death like Romeo and Juliet. In the midst of this jumble are the old standbys, a woman pretending to be a young page and banished people living in the forest. This play is divisive among Shakespeare scholars when it comes to its categorization, some consider it a tragedy and others a romance. King Cymbeline of Britain is furious when he finds out his only daughter, Imogen, has secretly married Posthumus Leonatus, a man from his court. He quickly banishes Posthumus from his kingdom and shortly thereafter Posthumus meets Iachimo in Italy. He tells his new friend all about his beautiful Imogen. Iachimo isn’t impressed and makes a bet with Posthumus regarding her honor. Add in a devious Queen plotting the King’s death, her horrid son Cloten, missing heirs to the throne, warring Romans and a beheading and you’ve got the gist of it. BOTTOM LINE: A strange mishmash of Shakespearean themes, but a satisfying if contrived ending. I’d love to see this one performed, but until then I’ll have to settle for the wild ride the play takes you on.  

[birdie.newborn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This "history" play of Shakespeare's is probably not part of the Tudor campaign for legitimacy, but gives a glimpse into early Britain. A headstrong woman, one of many from Shakespeare -- makes one wonder about his personal life…

[amerynth · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

"Cymbeline" was one of the few Shakespeare plays that I'd never heard of before embarking on my quest to read them all. So, I really didn't have particularly high hopes that I'd enjoy it.While certainly not amongst the bard's best works, I was surprised to find I enjoyed this play quite a bit. I found it to be well-paced and I enjoyed the interactions between the characters. It had a lot of elements that are typical Shakespeare -- from Imogen's travels disguised by man, to a sad King tossing a child out into the wild, to hidden identities that are revealed at the end.It isn't a perfect play, as there are lots of characters floating about, making it a bit challenging to follow and the ending all sort of tumbles together (happily) for no particular reason. That said, I still liked the overall story.