daughter; he killed my cousin Marcus; he killed my father,--
SECOND LORD.
Quiet!
Peace, ho!--no outrage;--peace!
This man is from a good family, and he is
The man is noble, and his fame folds in
famous all over the world. For this last offense against us
This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us
he will be given a fair trial. Aufidius, stop talking
Shall have judicious hearing.--Stand, Aufidius,
and don’t disturb the peace.
And trouble not the peace.
CORIOLANUS.
Oh, I wish I could kill him,
O that I had him,
with six more Aufidiuses, or even better, his while family,
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
in the heat of a legal battle.
To use my lawful sword!
AUFIDIUS.
Rude bastard!
Insolent villain!
CONSPIRATORS.
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
[AUFIDIUS and the CONSPIRATORS draw, and kill CORIOLANUS,who
falls. AUFIDIUS stands on him.]
LORDS.
Stop, stop, stop, stop!
Hold, hold, hold, hold!
AUFIDIUS.
My lords, listen to me.
My noble masters, hear me speak.
FIRST LORD.
Oh, Tullus—
O Tullus,--
SECOND LORD.
You have done a terrible thing that would make courage weep.
Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
THIRD LORD.
Don’t step on Coriolanus’ corpse. Everyone, be quiet.
Tread not upon him.--Masters all, be quiet;
Put away your weapons.
Put up your swords.
AUFIDIUS.
My lords, when you learn (and you can’t tell from this fit of rage,
My lords, when you shall know,--as in this rage,
which he provoked), the great danger
Provok'd by him, you cannot,--the great danger
you were in when Coriolanus was alive, you’ll celebrate
Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
is he is dead. If you’d like to
That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
put me on trial before the senate, I’ll present
To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
myself willingly, and take
Myself your loyal servant, or endure
whatever punishment you give me.
Your heaviest censure.
FIRST LORD.
Take his body away,
Bear from hence his body,
and mourn for him. Let him be thought of
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded
as the most noble corpse that was
As the most noble corse that ever herald
ever buried.
Did follow to his um.
SECOND LORD.
Coriolanus’ irascibility
His own impatience
takes away most of the blame from Aufidius.
Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
Let’s make the best of it.
Let's make the best of it.
AUFIDIUS.
My rage is gone,
My rage is gone;
and now I am sad. Pick him up.
And I am struck with sorrow.--Take him up:--
Help, three of the biggest soldiers, and I’ll be the fourth to carry him.
Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.--
Beat the drums, so it sounds sad,
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully;
and drag your spears on the ground as sign of grief. Though in this city he
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
has killed many of our husbands and sons,
Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
which we’re still upset about,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
he will be remembered well anyway.
Yet he shall have a noble memory.--
Help us.
Assist.
[Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded.]
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
SCENE: Britain; Italy
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.
Every man you meet is frowning;
our moods aren't as susceptible to being influenced by the heavens
as the courtiers are to copying the moods of the King.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
But what's the matter?
But what's the problem?
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.
His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom,
whom he intended to marry to his wife's only son–she's a widow
he only married recently–has hitched herself
to a good but poor gentleman. She is married;
her husband is exiled; she is in prison.
Everybody looks sorrowful, although I think the King
has been stabbed to the heart.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
None but the King?
Just 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.
The one who has lost her as well. And the Queen,
who was very keen on the marriage. But there isn't a courtier,
although they have scowls on their faces to match
the King, who isn't secretly glad about the thing
they pretend to scowl at.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
And why so?
And why is that?
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.
The one who missed out on the Princess is a piece of work
whom you couldn't be too critical about; and the man who has her–
I mean the one who married her, alas, good man!
And so is exiled–is a person whom
you could search everywhere on earth
to find a match for, there would always be something lacking
in the one you found. I don't think
there is anyone on earth who has
such a good appearance coupled to such good qualities.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
You speak him far.
You speak very highly of him.
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
I do extend him, sir, within himself;
Crush him together rather than unfold
His measure duly.
I'm actually being quite reserved;
I'm pushing him down rather than
showing his true height.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
What's his name and birth?
What's his name and what are his origins?
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.
I can't quite get to the bottom of him; his father
was called Sicilius, who fought
against the Romans with Cassibelan,
but he got his titles from Tenantius, whom
he served gloriously and with great success,
and he was given the additional name Leonatus:
besides the gentleman we're talking about, he had
two other sons, who, in the walls of that time,
died on the battlefield; their father,
who was then old and, doting on his children,
was so grieved by this that he died; and his sweet wife,
pregnant with the gentleman we are talking about, died
in childbirth. The King took the baby
under his protection, called him Posthumus Leonatus,
raised him and made him one of his inner circle,
and gave him as much education as was
appropriate for his age; he took it in
as we take in air, as fast as he could get it,
and he flourished: he lived in court
(which is most unusual) greatly praised, greatly loved;
an example to the youngest, to the older ones
a model they couldn't live up to: and to the wise
a child who could outthink old men. As for his mistress,
(from whom he is now separated) the price she was prepared to pay
shows what she felt about him; through her choice
of him you can truly see his goodness,
the 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?
I respect him
even just hearing of him. But please tell me,
is she the King's only child?
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.
His only child.
He had two sons–if this is worth listening to,
make a note of it–who was stolen from their nursery,
the older one was three years old and the other
was just a baby; and to this day nobody has any idea
what happened to them.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
How long is this ago?
How long ago was this?
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Some twenty years.
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!
It's amazing that this could happen to the children of a king,
so poorly guarded, and the search so inefficient
that it couldn't find them!
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it true, sir.
However strange it seems,
or however ridiculous the negligence seems,
it's still true, sir.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
I do well believe you.
I certainly believe you.
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
We must forbear; here comes the gentleman,
The Queen, and Princess.
Exeunt
We must withdraw; here comes the gentleman,
the Queen and the Princess.
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.
No, I can promise, daughter, you won't find me–
as they say about most stepmothers–
unkind to you. You're my prisoner, but
your jailer will give you the keys
to your prison. As for you, Posthumus,
as soon as I can win over the upset King,
I will show that I'm on your side. Still,
at the moment he is furious, and it would be best
for you to accept his sentence with as much
patience as you can muster.
POSTHUMUS.
Please your Highness,
I will from hence to-day.
If it please your Highness,
I will leave here today.
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
You recognise the danger.
I'll take a turn round the garden, as I pity
the anguish of forbidden love, though the King
has ordered that you should not speak to each other.
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.
What false kindness! How good this evil woman is
at smiling when she stabs you! My dearest husband,
I am a little afraid of my father's anger, but not–
excepting the biblical duty I owe him–of
what he can do to me. You must go;
I shall stay here and suffer the constant
glare of his angry eyes, with no reason to live
except that I know that there is this beautiful thing 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,
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 498