Cymbeline E-Book

William Shakespeare

• Herausgeber: JH
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

The secret marriage of a king's daughter sets off a chain reaction of slander, jealousy, and divine intervention in this fairy tale-like romance. Shakespeare based his play on myths of an early Celtic king of Britain, incorporating historical elements from classical Rome and Renaissance Italy. With a cast that includes an evil stepmother, scheming suitor, and devoted lovers, the drama is heightened by duels, kidnappings, and disguised identities.

Leseprobe

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CYMBELINE

by William Shakespeare

Dramatis Personae

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 and ARVIRAGUS, sons to Cymbeline, disguised under the

names of POLYDORE and CADWAL, supposed sons to

Belarius

PHILARIO, Italian, friend to Posthumus

IACHIMO, Italian, friend to Philario

A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, friend to Philario

CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman Forces

A ROMAN CAPTAIN

TWO BRITISH CAPTAINS

PISANIO, servant to Posthumus

CORNELIUS, a physician

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 Soothsayer, a

Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers,

Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants

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SCENE: Britain; Italy

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 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.

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?

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 pleas'd you to employ me.

QUEEN. This hath been

Your faithful servant. I dare lay mine honour

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

SCENE II. Britain. A public place

Enter CLOTEN and two LORDS

FIRST 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 hurt

him?

SECOND LORD. [Aside] No, faith; not so much as his patience.

FIRST 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.

SECOND LORD. [Aside] His steel was in debt; it went o' th' back

side the town.

CLOTEN. The villain would not stand me.

SECOND LORD. [Aside] No; but he fled forward still, toward your

face.

FIRST LORD. Stand you? You have land enough of your own; but he

added to your having, gave you some ground.

SECOND LORD. [Aside] As many inches as you have oceans.

Puppies!

CLOTEN. I would they had not come between us.

SECOND LORD. [Aside] So would I, till you had measur'd how long

a

fool you were upon the ground.

CLOTEN. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me!

SECOND LORD. [Aside] If it be a sin to make a true election,

she is

damn'd.

FIRST 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.

SECOND LORD. [Aside] She shines not upon fools, lest the

reflection

should hurt her.

CLOTEN. Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been some

hurt

done!

SECOND 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?

FIRST LORD. I'll attend your lordship.

CLOTEN. Nay, come, let's go together.

SECOND LORD. Well, my lord. Exeunt

SCENE III. Britain. CYMBELINE'S palace

Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO

IMOGEN. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' th' haven,

And questioned'st 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!

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 his eye, or care

Distinguish him from others, he did keep

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

To after-eye him.

PISANIO. Madam, so I did.

IMOGEN. I would have broke mine eyestrings, 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

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

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,

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,

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

SCENE IV. Rome. PHILARIO'S house

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 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.

FRENCHMAN. I have seen him in France; we had very many there

could

behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.