The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 520
ever did. [To the guard] Leave his arms alone;
they were not born to be tied.
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?
Why, old soldier,
are you going to undo the good things you have yet
to be paid for, by making me angry?How can he be
as noble as me?
ARVIRAGUS.
In that he spake too far.
He said too much, saying that.
CYMBELINE.
And thou shalt die for't.
And you shall die for it.
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.
All three of us will die;
But I will prove that two of us are as good
as I have told him.My sons, I must
say something that will be dangerous for me,
though it might be good for you.
ARVIRAGUS.
Your danger's ours.
We share your danger.
GUIDERIUS.
And our good his.
And we share our good.
BELARIUS.
Have at it then by leave!
Thou hadst, great King, a subject who
Was call'd Belarius.
Well then, let's speak of it!
You had, great King, a subject who
was called Belarius.
CYMBELINE.
What of him? He is
A banish'd traitor.
What about him?He is
an exiled traitor.
BELARIUS.
He it is that hath
Assum'd this age; indeed a banish'd man;
I know not how a traitor.
It's him who is this old man
in front of you; certainly an exile,
but I don't know how I’m a traitor.
CYMBELINE.
Take him hence,
The whole world shall not save him.
Take him away.
Nothing shall 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 receiv'd it.
Don't be so hasty.
First pay me for raising your sons,
and let it all be confiscated, as soon
as you've paid me.
CYMBELINE.
Nursing of my sons?
Raising my sons?
BELARIUS.
I am too blunt and saucy: 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.
I am too rude and cheeky: I shall kneel.
Before I get up I will offer you my sons;
then don't spare the old father.Great sir,
these two young gentlemen who call me father,
and think they are my sons, are no sons of mine;
they were fathered by you, my lord,
they share your blood.
CYMBELINE.
How? my issue?
What?I fathered them?
BELARIUS.
So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd.
Your pleasure was my ne're offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes-
For such and so they are- these twenty years
Have I train'd up; those arts they have as
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 mov'd her to't,
Having receiv'd 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 shap'd
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.
As certainly as your father did you.I, old Morgan,
am that Belarius whom you once banished.
I did nothing wrong, there was no treason, and my
punishment came from your imagination.The only wrong
was my suffering.These gentle princes -
for that is what they are - I have raised for the last
twenty years; they have such accomplishments
as I could give them.My ancestry was, sir, as
you know.Their nurse, Euriphile,
whom I married for carrying out the theft, stole these children
when I was exiled; I persuaded her to do it,
having already got the punishment
before I did the crime.Being punished when loyal
moved me to commit treason.Their huge loss,
the more you felt it, the more it made
me determined to steal them.But, gracious sir,
here are your sons back again, and I must lose
two of the sweetest companions in the world.
May the blessings of heaven above
fall on their heads like dew!For they are as good
as the stars in the sky.
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.
You weep as you speak.
The service you have done is more
unusual than your tale.I lost my children.
If these are them, I couldn't wish for
a better pair of sons.
BELARIUS.
Be pleas'd awhile.
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 lapp'd
In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand
Of his queen mother, which for more probation
I can with ease produce.
Wait for a while.
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
is truly named, most worthy prince, as your son, Guideius;
this gentleman, my Cadwal, is Arviragus,
your younger princely son; he, sir, was wrapped
in a most unusual cloak, made by the hand
of the queen, his mother, and I can easily
produce it to give more proof.
CYMBELINE.
Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
It was a mark of wonder.
Guiderius had
a mole on his neck in the shape of a star;
it amazed everyone.
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.
He is the one,
who still has that birthmark.
It was wise nature's purpose in giving it to him
; that it should be his proof now.
CYMBELINE.
O, what am I?
A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more. Blest pray you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now! O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Oh, what am I?
A mother giving birth to three?No mother
was ever happier at a birth.May you be blessed,
so that after this strange removal from your natural orbits
you can rule in them now!Oh Imogen,
this means you have lost a kingdom.
IMOGEN.
No, my lord;
I have got two worlds by't. O my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker! You call'd me brother,
When I was but your sister: I you brothers,
When we were so indeed.
No, my lord;
I have got two worlds from it.Oh my gentle brothers,
is this how we met?Oh, you can never say from now on
that I am not the truest speaker!You called me brother,
when I was only your sister: I called you brothers,
when you actually were.
CYMBELINE.
Did you e'er meet?
Did you ever meet?
ARVIRAGUS.
Ay, my good lord.
Yes, my good lord.
GUIDERIUS.
And at first meeting lov'd,
Continu'd so until we thought he died.
And we loved him at our first meeting,
and carried on doing so until we thought he was dead.
CORNELIUS.
By the Queen's dram she swallow'd.
From the Queen's potion she drank.
CYMBELINE.
O rare instinct!
When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgment
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
Distinction should be rich in. Where? how liv'd you?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded,
And all the other by-dependences,
From chance to chance; but nor the time nor place
Will serve our long interrogatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
[To BELARIUS] Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever.
What an amazing instinct!
When will I hear the end?This harsh cut version
must have many subplots, each of which
will be rich on their own.Where did you live, and how?
How did you come to serve with our Roman prisoner?
How did you split from your brothers?How did you first meet them?
Why did you flee the court?Where did you go?These,
and why you three were in the battle, with
I don't know what else, should be asked about,
along with all the other side stories,
from one thing to the next; but this is not the time
nor the place for long interrogations.See,
Posthumus is anchored to Imogen;
and she, like harmless lightning, flashes her eyes
on him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting each object
with happiness; and so we all respond.
Let's leave this place,
and smoke out the temple with our sacrifices.
[to Belarius] You are my brother, and always will be.
IMOGEN.
You are my father too, and did relieve me
To see this gracious season.
You are my father too, and you saved me
so I could see this happy time.
CYMBELINE.
All o'erjoy'd
Save these in bonds. Let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.
All are overjoyed
except for the prisoners.Let them be joyful too,
for they shall taste my mercy.
IMOGEN.
My good master,
I will yet do you service.
My good master,
I will serve you well yet.
LUCIUS.
Happy be you!
May you be happy!
CYMBELINE.
The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
He would have well becom'd this place and grac'd
The thankings of a king.
The lowly soldier, who fought so nobly,
would have fitted in very well here, and deserved
the king's thanks.
POSTHUMUS.
I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,
Speak, Iachimo. I had you down, and might
Have made you finish.
I, sir, am
the soldier that fought with these three
in poor clothes; it was a disguise for
the plan I was then following.That I was him,
tell them, Iachimo.I had you down, and could
have killed you.
IACHIMO.
[Kneeling] I am down again;
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
Which I so often owe; but your ring first,
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.
I am down again;
but now it is my heavy guilt that makes me bend
as you did.Take the life, I beg you,
which I owe so many times over.But first take your ring,
and here is the bracelet of the truest princess
that ever swore to be faithful.
POSTHUMUS.
Kneel not to me.
The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you;
The malice towards you to forgive you. Live,
And deal with others better.
Do not kneel to me.
The power I have over you is to spare you,
and the malice I have is forgiveness.Live,
and deal better with others.
CYMBELINE.
Nobly doom'd!
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.
A noble sentence!
I'll learn generosity from my son-in-law;
everyone is pardoned.
ARVIRAGUS.
You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joy'd are we that you are.
You are so kind to us, sir,
as if you really meant to be our brother;
we are glad that you are.
POSTHUMUS.
Your servant, Princes. Good my lord of Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred. When I wak'd, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness that I can
Make no collection of it. Let him show
His skill in the construction.
I am your servant, princes.My good lord of Rome,
call out your fortuneteller.As I slept, I thought
gr
eat Jupiter, riding on his eagle,
appeared to me, with other lively apparitions
of my own family.When I woke, I found
this label on my chest; it's so hard
to interpret that I can make no sense of it.
Let him show his interpretative skills.
LUCIUS.
Philarmonus!
Philarmonus!
SOOTHSAYER.
Here, my good lord.
Here, my good lord.
LUCIUS.
Read, and declare the meaning.
Read this, and tell us what it means.
SOOTHSAYER.
[Reads] 'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself
unknown, without seeking find, and be embrac'd by
a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall
be lopp'd branches which, being dead many years, shall
after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow;
then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate
and flourish in peace and plenty.'
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.
[To CYMBELINE] The piece of tender air, thy virtuous
daughter,
Which we call 'mollis aer,' and 'mollis aer'
We term it 'mulier'; which 'mulier' I divine
Is this most constant wife, who even now
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
With this most tender air.
'When the child of a lion shall find without seeking,
unbeknownst to himself, and be embraced by a piece of tender air;
and when from a great cedar tree branches are lopped which,
having been dead for many years, will afterwards revive, be grafted
onto the old tree, and grow afresh; then the misery of Posthumus will end,