Per. Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear? So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends, 240 [Exeunt all but Pericles. DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision. Dia. My temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither, And do upon mine altar sacrifice. [gether, There, when my maiden priests are met toBefore the people all, Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife : To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call And give them repetition to the life. Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe; Do it, and happy; by my silver bow! 270 What pageantry, what feats, what shows, 280 To greet the king. So he thrived, That he is promised to be wived To fair Marina; but in no wise Till he had done his sacrifice, As Dian bade: whereto being bound, The interim, pray you, all confound. In feather'd briefness sails are fill'd, And wishes fall out as they're will'd. At Ephesus, the temple see, Our king and all his company. That he can hither come so soon, Is by your fancy's thankful doom. [Exit. SCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; THAISA standing near the altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side; CERIMON and other Inhabitants of Ephesus attending. Enter PERICLES, with his train; LYSIMACHUS, HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady. Per. Hail, Dian! to perform thy just command, I here confess myself the king of Tyre; At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth Per. Still confirmation: Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he. Now do I long to hear how you were found; How possibly preserved; and who to thank, Besides the gods, for this great miracle 60 Thai. Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man, Through whom the gods have shown the r power; that can From first to last resolve you. Per. Reverend sir, The gods can have no mortal officer More like a god than you. Will you deliver How this dead queen re-lives? Cer. How she came placed here in the temple; Per. Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! 1 Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa, 70 This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daugh ter, Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now, Makes me look dismal will I clip to form; Per. Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen, We'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves Will in that kingdom spend our following 81 days: CYMBELINE. (WRITTEN ABOUT 1609.) INTRODUCTION. Cymbeline interweaves with a fragment of British history taken from Holinshed, a story from Boccacio's Decameron (9th Novel of 2nd Day), the Genevra of the Italian novel corresponding to Shakespeare's Imogen. The story is told in a tract called Westward for Smelts, 1620 (stated by Steevens and Malone to have been published as early as 1603); but Shakespeare appears in some way, directly or indirectly, to have made acquaintance with it as given by Boccacio. The names of the two princes Shakespeare found, as well as the king's name, in Holinshed; but the incidents of their having been stolen, and their life, among the mountains of Wales, appear to have been invented by the dramatist. Dr. Forman records in his MS Booke of Plaies and Notes thereof that he saw Cymbeline acted; but he gives no date. His book, however, belongs to the years 1610-1611, and the metrical and other internal evidence point to that time as about the period when the drama must have been written. It is loosely constructed, and some passages possess little dramatic intensity. Several critics have questioned whether the vision of Posthumus (Act V. Sc. IV.) is of Shakespeare's authorship, and it is certainly poorly conceived and written. Nevertheless, the play is one of singular charm, and contains in Imogen one of the loveliest of Shakespeare's creations of female character. Except grandeur and majesty, which were reserved for Hermione and Queen Katherine, every thing that can make a woman lovely is given by the poet to Imogen: quick and exquisite feelings, brightness of intellect, delicate imagination, energy to hate evil and to right what was wrong, scorn for what is mean or rude, culture, dainty womanly accomplishments, the gift of song, a capacity for exquisite happiness and no less sensitiveness to the sharpness of sorrow, a power of quick recovery from disaster when the warmth of love breathes upon her once more, beauty of a type which is noble and refined. And her lost brothers are gallant youths, bred happily far from the court, in wilds where their generous instincts and love of freedom and activity find innocent if insufficient modes of gratification. As in all the works of this period, an open-air feeling pervades a great part of the drama; nature, itself joyous and free, ministers to what is beautiful, simple, or heroic in man, while yet by Shakespeare nature alone is never anywhere conceived as sufficient to satisfy the heart or the imagination of a human being. With reconciliation and reunion this, like the other Romances, closes. The faith of Posthumus in Imogen is of a half-romantic kind, unconfirmed by calm and deep acquaintance with her heart that faith is not subtly poisoned, like the love of Othello, but suddenly, in one brief and desperate encounter, overthrown. His jealousy is not heroic, like Othello's; it shows something of grossness, unworthy of his true self. In due time penitential sorrow does its work, his nobler nature reasserts itself, and in the final reunion of parent and lost children, the erring husband is also restored to the quick-beating, joyous heart of his wife. ACT I. SCENE I. Britain. Could make him the receiver of; which he took, The garden of Cymbe- As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd, line's palace. And in's spring became a harvest, lived in Enter two Gentlemen. First Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns our bloods No more obey the heavens than our courtiers Still seem as does the king. Sec. Gent. But what's the matter? First Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom, whom He purposed 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 Sec. Gent. That most desired the match; but not a courtier, Although they wear their faces to the bent Of the king's look's, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowl at. And why so? Sec. Gent. First Gent. 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 19 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. 30 Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honor Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow court Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, sir. Sec. Gent. I do well believe you. First Gent. We must forbear: here comes the gentleman, The queen, and princess. [Exeunt. Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter, ΤΟ After the slander of most stepmothers, Hath charged you should not speak together. [Erit. Imo. Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant Queen. Re-enter QUEEN. Be brief, I pray you: 101 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. Post. Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live, The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu ! Imo. Nay, stay a little : Were you but riding forth to air yourself, 110 But keep it till you woo another wife, Post. While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, 120 [Putting a bracelet upon her arm. Imo. Pis. My lord your son drew on my master. Queen. No harm, I trust, is done? Pis. Ha! 160 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. I am very glad on't. Queen. Imo. 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 ;' |