The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (850 page)

ARVIRAGUS]which I will add

To you, the liver, heart, and brain, of Britain,

By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time

To ask of whence you are. Report it.

To my sorrow, I am the one

who benefits from his deeds;

and I include you in this prize,

the liver, heart and brain of Britain,

and I say she lives because of you.Now's the time

to ask where you came from.Tell us.

BELARIUS.

Sir,

In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen;

Further to boast were neither true nor modest,

Unless I add we are honest.

Sir,

We come from Wales, and are gentlemen;

to boast any more would either be false or immodest,

unless I add that we are honest.

CYMBELINE.

Bow your knees,

Arise my knights o' th' battle; I create you

Companions to our person, and will fit you

With dignities becoming your estates.

Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES

There's business in these faces. Why so sadly

Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,

And not o' th' court of Britain.

Bow your knees,

and rise the knights of the battlefield; I appoint you

to be my companions, and will give you

privileges fitting your positions.

Enter Cornelius and ladies

There's something going on, to judge from these faces.Why

are you so sad at our victory?You look as if you were Romans,

and not members of the British court.

CORNELIUS.

Hail, great King!

To sour your happiness I must report

The Queen is dead.

Hail, great King!

To spoil your happiness I must tell you

that the Queen is dead.

CYMBELINE.

Who worse than a physician

Would this report become? But I consider

By med'cine'life may be prolong'd, yet death

Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?

Who is worse than a doctor,

to give this report?But I think

that life can be prolonged with medicine, but death

will get the doctor as well.How did she die?

CORNELIUS.

With horror, madly dying, like her life;

Which, being cruel to the world, concluded

Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd

I will report, so please you; these her women

Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks

Were present when she finish'd.

Horribly, dying madly, as she lived;

She was cruel to the world, and in the end

was cruel to herself.If you please, I'll tell

you what she confessed; these women of hers

can correct me if I go wrong, they were there,

weeping, when she met her end.

CYMBELINE.

Prithee say.

Please tell me.

CORNELIUS.

First, she confess'd she never lov'd you; only

Affected greatness got by you, not you;

Married your royalty, was wife to your place;

Abhorr'd your person.

Firstly, she admitted she never loved you; she only

liked the greatness she could get through you, not you;

she married your royalty, she was a wife to your position;

she hated you as a person.

CYMBELINE.

She alone knew this;

And but she spoke it dying, I would not

Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.

She was the only one who knew this;

if she hadn't said it as she died, I wouldn't

believe that she had said it.Carry on.

CORNELIUS.

Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love

With such integrity, she did confess

Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,

But that her flight prevented it, she had

Ta'en off by poison.

Your daughter, whom she took in hand and pretended

to love so deeply, she admitted

was like a scorpion to her; it was only

her flight which stopped her taking

her life with poison.

CYMBELINE.

O most delicate fiend!

Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?

The dainty devil!

Can anyone understand women?Is there more?

CORNELIUS.

More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had

For you a mortal mineral, which, being took,

Should by the minute feed on life, and ling'ring,

By inches waste you. In which time she purpos'd,

By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to

O'ercome you with her show; and in time,

When she had fitted you with her craft, to work

Her son into th' adoption of the crown;

But failing of her end by his strange absence,

Grew shameless-desperate, open'd, in despite

Of heaven and men, her purposes, repented

The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so,

Despairing, died.

More, sir, and worse.She confessed she had

a lethal chemical for you which, when you took it,

would take your life minute by minute, and you would hang on,

wasting by inches.At that time she intended,

through vigils, weeping, tenderness and kissing, to

overcome any suspicions; and in time,

when she had worked her efforts on you, she would

have persuaded you to resign the crown to her son;

but as she couldn't achieve this due to his mysterious absence,

she became shameless and desperate, and despite

heaven and men listening she admitted her plans,

regretted that the evils she had plotted hadn't happened, and,

in despair, she died.

CYMBELINE.

Heard you all this, her women?

Did you hear all this, you women?

LADY.

We did, so please your Highness.

If you please, your highness, we did.

CYMBELINE.

Mine eyes

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;

Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart

That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious

To have mistrusted her; yet, O my daughter!

That it was folly in me thou mayst say,

And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!

 Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the SOOTHSAYER, and other

Roman prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS behind, and IMOGEN

Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that

The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss

Of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made suit

That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter

Of you their captives, which ourself have granted;

So think of your estate.

My eyes

were not at fault, for she was beautiful;

My ears were, that listened to her flattery; and my heart

that thought she was what she appeared to be.I would

have been vicious to have mistrusted her; but, oh my daughter!

You can tell me I was stupid,

and show you felt it.May heaven mend everything!

You haven't come for tribute now, Caius; the

Britons have put a stop to that, though with the loss

of many brave men, whose kinsmen have asked

that their good souls may be revenged by the slaughter

of you, our prisoners, and I have agreed to this;

so prepare your souls.

LUCIUS.

Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day

Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,

We should not, when the blood was cool, have threaten'd

Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods

Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives

May be call'd ransom, let it come. Sufficeth

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer.

Augustus lives to think on't; and so much

For my peculiar care. This one thing only

I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,

Let him be ransom'd. Never master had

A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,

So tender over his occasions, true,

So feat, so nurse-like; let his virtue join

With my request, which I'll make bold your Highness

Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm

Though he have serv'd a Roman. Save him, sir,

And spare no blood beside.

Think, sir, about the luck of war.You won

the day by chance; if we had won,

we should not, in cold blood, have threatened

our prisoners with the sword.But since the gods

insist on this, that nothing but our lives

will pay the price, let it happen.A Roman

with a Roman's heart can endure this.

Augustus is alive to consider it, and that's enough

for me.I will just ask one thing; please ransom

my boy, who was born British.No master ever had

such a kind page, so dutiful, hardworking,

so careful over his duties, honest,

loyal, nurturing; add his virtue to my request,

which I'll be so bold as to say your Highness

can't deny.He has done no harm to any Briton,

although he has served a Roman.Save him, sir,

and you can kill the rest.

CYMBELINE.

I have surely seen him;

His favour is familiar to me. Boy,

Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,

And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore

To say 'Live, boy.' Ne'er thank thy master. Live;

And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,

Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it;

Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,

The noblest ta'en.

I'm sure I've seen him;

his face is familiar to me.Boy,

your looks have inspired my forgiveness,

which belongs to me.I don't know why

I say, 'Live, boy.' You don't need to thank your master.Live;

and ask Cymbeline for any favour you want,

if it's suitable for me to give and you to receive, I'll give it;

even if you ask for the life of the noblest

prisoner we have captured.

IMOGEN.

I humbly thank your Highness.

I humbly thank your highness.

LUCIUS.

I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,

And yet I know thou wilt.

I won't tell you to ask for me to be spared, good lad,

although I know you will.

IMOGEN.

No, no! Alack,

There's other work in hand. I see a thing

Bitter to me as death; your life, good master,

Must shuffle for itself.

No, no!Alas,

I have other things to think of.I can see a thing

as bitter to me as death; your life, good master,

must fend for itself.

LUCIUS.

The boy disdains me,