Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplex'd?
The boy rejects me,
he leaves me, he spurns me.They will soon lose their happiness
who rely on the loyalty of girls and boys.
Why is he so confused?
CYMBELINE.
What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on? Speak,
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
What do you want, boy?
I love you more and more;think more and more
what the best thing to ask is.Do you know the one you're looking at?Say,
do you want him to live?Is he your family?Your friend?
IMOGEN.
He is a Roman, no more kin to me
Than I to your Highness; who, being born your vassal,
Am something nearer.
He is a Roman, no more related to me
than I am to your Highness; as I was born your subject
I am actually closer to you.
CYMBELINE.
Wherefore ey'st him so?
Why are you eying him like that?
IMOGEN.
I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you'd be kind enough
to listen to me.
CYMBELINE.
Ay, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
Certainly, and I'll give you my best
attention.What's your name?
IMOGEN.
Fidele, sir.
Fidele, sir.
CYMBELINE.
Thou'rt my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master. Walk with me; speak freely.
[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart]
You are my good boy, my page;
I'll be your master.Walk with me, say what you want.
BELARIUS.
Is not this boy reviv'd from death?
Hasn't this boy come back from the dead?
ARVIRAGUS.
One sand another
Not more resembles- that sweet rosy lad
Who died and was Fidele. What think you?
They're as alike as two
grains of sand - that sweet rosy lad who died
and was Fidele.What do you think?
GUIDERIUS.
The same dead thing alive.
The same thing that was dead is alive.
BELARIUS.
Peace, peace! see further. He eyes us not; forbear.
Creatures may be alike; were't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
Be quiet!Think about it, he doesn't look at us.Stop it.
Men can look the same; if it was him, I am sure
he would have spoken to us.
GUIDERIUS.
But we saw him dead.
But we saw him dead.
BELARIUS.
Be silent; let's see further.
Be quiet; let's see what develops.
PISANIO.
[Aside] It is my mistress.
Since she is living, let the time run on
To good or bad. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN advance]
It is my mistress.
Since she is alive, let time run on,
to good or bad.
CYMBELINE.
Come, stand thou by our side;
Make thy demand aloud. [To IACHIMO] Sir, step you forth;
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.
Come and stand by my side;
speak your demand out loud.[To Iachimo] Sir, step forward;
answer this boy, and do so fully,
or I swear by my greatness and the grace of it,
which is my honour, bitter torture will
get the truth out of you.Go on, speak to him.
IMOGEN.
My boon is that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.
My request is that this gentleman tells me
where he got this ring from.
POSTHUMUS.
[Aside] What's that to him?
Why does he care?
CYMBELINE.
That diamond upon your finger, say
How came it yours?
That diamond on your finger, how
did you come by it?
IACHIMO.
Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
Which to be spoke would torture thee.
You would torture me to stop me saying
something that it would torture you to hear.
CYMBELINE.
How? me?
What?Me?
IACHIMO.
I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that
Which torments me to conceal. By villainy
I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel,
Whom thou didst banish; and- which more may grieve thee,
As it doth me- a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
I am glad to be forced to say something
which it torments me to conceal.I got this ring
through villainy; it belonged to Leonatus,
whom you exiled; and - which may grieve you more,
as it does me, a nobler gentleman never
lived on earth.Do you want to hear more, my lord?
CYMBELINE.
All that belongs to this.
Everything about it.
IACHIMO.
That paragon, thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood and my false spirits
Quail to remember- Give me leave, I faint.
That perfect girl, your daughter,
the thought of whom makes my heart bleed and my false spirits
quiver to remember - excuse me, I'm faint.
CYMBELINE.
My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength;
I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
My daughter?What about her?Pull yourself together;
I would rather you lived forever rather than
die before I hear more.Try, man, speak.
IACHIMO.
Upon a time- unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour!- was in Rome- accurs'd
The mansion where!- 'twas at a feast- O, would
Our viands had been poison'd, or at least
Those which I heav'd to head!- the good Posthumus-
What should I say? he was too good to be
Where ill men were, and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones- sitting sadly
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye-
Once upon a time - what an unhappy time it was!-
I was in Rome - curse the mansion I was in!- at a feast -
oh, I wish our food had been poisoned, or at least
the ones I ate! - the good Posthumus -
what should I say?He was too good to be
where bad men were, and was the very best
of the best - sat sadly
hearing us praise our Italian mistresses
for a beauty which could completely
outstrip that of his; for looks better
than the statues of Venus of straight backed Minerva,
holding themselves like goddesses; their personalities
a compendium of all the qualities that men
love women for; besides that wifely winning quality,
beauty which strikes the eye -
CYMBELINE.
I stand on fire.
Come to the matter.
I'm on fire.
Get to the point.
IACHIMO.
All too soon I shall,
Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
Most like a noble lord in love and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint;
And not dispraising whom we prais'd- therein
He was as calm as virtue- he began
His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made,
And then a mind put in't, either our brags
Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description
Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
I shall, all too soon,
unless you want to grieve at once.This Posthumus,
who was very like a noble lord in love and one
who had a royal lover, took his cue;
he didn't criticise those we praised - he was
as calm as he was virtuous - he began
to describe his mistress; when he'd described her,
and then said what her mind was like, it seemed our boasts
were about kitchen sluts, or else his description
showed we were drunken idiots who couldn't describe anything.
CYMBELINE.
Nay, nay, to th' purpose.
Come on, to the point.
IACHIMO.
Your daughter's chastity- there it begins.
He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams
And she alone were cold; whereat I, wretch,
Made scruple of his praise, and wager'd with him
Pieces of gold 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
In suit the place of's bed, and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of's car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd
That I return'd with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet-
O cunning, how I got it!- nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon-
Methinks I see him now-
Your daughter's chastity - that's where it starts.
He spoke of her as if Diana was lusty and only she was pure; so I, wretch,
doubted his praise, and bet him