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Act 5, Scene 3
Cymbeline Translation Act 5, Scene 4
Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and two Gaolers
FIRST GAOLER
You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;So graze as you find pasture.
FIRST JAILER
You won't be rescued, you're locked up. So you can eat whatever you find.
SECOND GAOLER
Ay, or a stomach.
SECOND JAILER
Or whatever you're hungry for.
Exeunt Gaolers
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POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, think, to liberty: yet am I better Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather Groan so in perpetuity than be cured By the sure physician, death, who is the key To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd More than my shanks and wrists: you good gods, give me The penitent instrument to pick that bolt, Then, free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry? So children temporal fathers do appease; Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent? I cannot do it better than in gyves, Desired more than constrain'd: to satisfy, If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take No stricter render of me than my all. I know you are more clement than vile men, Who of their broken debtors take a third, A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again On their abatement: that's not my desire: For Imogen's dear life take mine; and though 'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it: 'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp; Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake: You rather mine, being yours: and so, great powers, If you will take this audit, take this life, And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen! I'll speak to thee in silence.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Welcome, slavery! You are a way to find freedom. I'm better off than someone sick with gout. He would prefer to suffer forever than to be cured by that talented doctor, death, the key to these locks. My consciousness, you're less free than my legs and arms. Good gods, give me the pick to pick that lock, then I'll be free forever! Is it enough that I'm sorry for what I did? That's how children get their fathers to forgive them. Gods are more merciful. Do I have to repent? I couldn't do it better than while tied up. And it's more that I want to than that I have to. As a punishment, just take everything I have from me and no more. I know you're kinder than disgusting humans, who take a third of what people in debt owe, or a sixth or a tenth, and leave them the rest so they can earn their money back. That's not what I want. In return for Imogen's precious life, take mine. Although it's not as precious, it's still a life. You created it. Humans don't weigh every coin we exchange. Even if they're lighter than they should be, we accept that they have a certain value because of the image stamped onto them. There's even more reason for you to take mine since I was created in your image. And so, gods, examine this financial record and cancel the loan. Oh Imogen! I'll speak to you by staying silent.
Sleeps
Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus Leonatus, an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in his hand an ancient matron, his wife, and mother to Posthumus Leonatus, with music before them: then, after other music, follow the two young Leonati, brothers to Posthumus Leonatus, with wounds as they died in the wars. They circle Posthumus Leonatus round, as he lies sleeping
SICILIUS LEONATUS
No more, thou thunder-master, show Thy spite on mortal flies: With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, That thy adulteries Rates and revenges. Hath my poor boy done aught but well, Whose face I never saw? I died whilst in the womb he stay'd Attending nature's law: Whose father then, as men report Thou orphans' father art, Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him From this earth-vexing smart.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
You thunder-god, don't punish human flies anymore. Disagree with Mars and fight with Juno who gets angry and gets her revenge for your adultery. Has my poor boy, whose face I never got to see, done anything wrong? I died while he was still in his mother's womb, growing naturally. People say you're a father to orphans, and you should have been a father to him and protected him from this pain.
MOTHER
Lucina lent not me her aid, But took me in my throes; That from me was Posthumus ript, Came crying 'mongst his foes, A thing of pity!
MOTHER
Lucina didn't help me but killed me while I was in labor. So Posthumus was cut out of me and arrived crying surrounded by enemies, a pitiful little thing!
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Great nature, like his ancestry,Moulded the stuff so fair,That he deserved the praise o' the world,As great Sicilius' heir.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Nature and his genes made him so attractive that he deserved to be praised by the whole world as Sicilius's heir.
FIRST BROTHER
When once he was mature for man, In Britain where was he That could stand up his parallel; Or fruitful object be In eye of Imogen, that best Could deem his dignity?
FIRST BROTHER
When he had grown into a man, who else in Britain was equal to him or who else could compete with him in Imogen's affection, she who more than anyone could see how virtuous he was?
MOTHER
With marriage wherefore was he mock'd, To be exiled, and thrown From Leonati seat, and cast From her his dearest one, Sweet Imogen?
MOTHER
Why was he punished for getting married, exiled and driven out of the Leonatus famiy home, and separated from his beloved, sweet Imogen?
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Why did you suffer Iachimo, Slight thing of Italy, To taint his nobler heart and brain With needless jealosy; And to become the geck and scorn O' th' other's villany?
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Why did you let Iachimo, a worthless Italian, infect his noble heart and mind with pointless jealousy? And let him be duped by Iachimo's trickery?
SECOND BROTHER
For this from stiller seats we came, Our parents and us twain, That striking in our country's cause Fell bravely and were slain, Our fealty and Tenantius' right With honour to maintain.
SECOND BROTHER
We came from more peaceful places, our parents and the two of us. Fighting for our country, we fell bravely and died in battle, to show our loyalty and to win for Tenantius.
FIRST BROTHER
Like hardiment Posthumus hath To Cymbeline perform'd: Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods, Why hast thou thus adjourn'd The graces for his merits due, Being all to dolours turn'd?
FIRST BROTHER
Posthumus did the same service for Cymbeline. So, Jupiter, king of the gods, why have you put off rewarding him as he deserves, now he's in so much trouble?
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Thy crystal window ope; look out; No longer exercise Upon a valiant race thy harsh And potent injuries.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Open your window, look down, don't punish a brave people so harshly.
MOTHER
Since, Jupiter, our son is good,Take off his miseries.
MOTHER
Jupiter, since our son is a good person, don't let him be miserable.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Peep through thy marble mansion; help; Or we poor ghosts will cry To the shining synod of the rest Against thy deity.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
Look out of your marble palace! Help! Or we poor ghosts will complain about you to the assembly of the rest of the gods.
SECOND BROTHER
Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,And from thy justice fly.
SECOND BROTHER
Help, Jupiter, or we will appeal to them and give up on your justice system.
Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The Apparitions fall on their knees
JUPITER
No more, you petty spirits of region low, Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you ghosts Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know, Sky-planted batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest Upon your never-withering banks of flowers: Be not with mortal accidents opprest; No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours. Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift, The more delay'd, delighted. Be content; Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift: His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade. He shall be lord of lady Imogen, And happier much by his affliction made. This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine: and so, away: no further with your din Express impatience, lest you stir up mine. Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
JUPITER
Don't offend us by talking anymore, you minor spirits from below! Shh! How dare you ghosts accuse me of these things when you know my lightning bolts shoot from the sky at all rebelling countries? Poor ghosts from Elysium, go away, and rest on your hills covered in undying flowers. Don't worry about what happens on earth. It isn't any of your business, and you know it's mine. I make trouble for the people I love best, because postponing my help makes people appreciate it more. You can be sure, my power will save your son even though he's been laid low. Things that will comfort him are being taken care of, and the things he's going through are good for him. He was born under my star, and was married in my temple. Get up and fade away. He will be lady Imogen's husband, and this suffering will make him happier in the end. Set this tablet on his chest, where I've set down his destiny. So, go away. Don't make any more noise saying you're impatient, or I'll become impatient too. Fly up, eagle, to my crystal palace.
Ascends
SICILIUS LEONATUS
He came in thunder; his celestial breath Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle Stoop'd as to foot us: his ascension is More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird Prunes the immortal wing and cloys his beak, As when his god is pleased.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
He came surrounded by thunder. His holy breath smelled like sulphur. The holy eagle stooped as though it would kick us. Seeing him fly away is more beautiful than the blessed fields we live in. His royal bird is cleaning his immortal wing and keeping his beak shut, as he does when his god is pleased.
ALL
Thanks, Jupiter!
ALL
Thanks, Jupiter!
SICILIUS LEONATUS
The marble pavement closes, he is enter'dHis radiant root. Away! and, to be blest,Let us with care perform his great behest.
SICILIUS LEONATUS
The marble roof closes: he has gone back to the bright place where he lives. Let's go! And we should do exactly as he asked so he blesses us.
The Apparitions vanish
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
[Waking] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot A father to me; and thou hast created A mother and two brothers: but, O scorn! Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born: And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend On greatness' favour dream as I have done, Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve: Many dream not to find, neither deserve, And yet are steep'd in favours: so am I, That have this golden chance and know not why. What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one! Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers: let thy effects So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, As good as promise.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
[Waking up] Sleep, you were like a grandfather: you gave birth to a father for me, and you created a mother and two brothers. But what a terrible joke! They're gone! They vanished as quickly as they appeared. So I'm awake now. Poor people who depend on the kindness of great men dream the same kinds of dreams as me, and wake up to find that they have nothing. But I'm wrong. Many don't dream about getting anything or deserve to get anything but are drowned in presents. That's true of me, since I had this wonderful dream and don't know why. What fairies haunt this place?
[Finding the tablet] A book! Oh, it's a beautiful one! Don't be like this unpredictable world and have a cover that looks more noble than what it's covering. Don't be like courtiers and instead be as good as you appear to be.
Reads
'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped 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.' 'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen Tongue and brain not; either both or nothing; Or senseless speaking or a speaking such As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, The action of my life is like it, which I'll keep, if but for sympathy.
"When a lion's cub, not knowing himself, finds and is embraced by a piece of soft air without looking for it, and when branches are cut from a noble cedar tree and, after being dead many years, come back to life and are re-attached to the old trunk and grow again, then Posthumus's sorrows will end, and Britain will be fortunate, prosperous, and peaceful." I'm still dreaming, or this is the sort of thing crazy people say without knowing what they mean. Either both those things, or nothing I can think of. It's either meaningless words or words that are impossible to understand. Whatever this writing is, my life is like it in that it's also difficult, so I'll keep it because we're alike.
Re-enter First Gaoler
FIRST GAOLER
Come, sir, are you ready for death?
FIRST JAILER
Come on, sir, are you ready to die?
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
I was ready long ago. Now I'm overdone.
FIRST GAOLER
Hanging is the word, sir: ifyou be ready for that, you are well cooked.
FIRST JAILER
You're going to be hanged, sir. If you're ready for that, you're well cooked.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
So, if I prove a good repast to thespectators, the dish pays the shot.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Well, if I give the spectators a good meal, it's worth the trouble of killing and cooking me.
FIRST GAOLER
A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern-bills; which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in flint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty; the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: of this contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the charity of a penny cord! It sums up thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge: your neck, sir, is pen, book and counters; so the acquittance follows.
FIRST JAILER
Bad luck for you, sir. But the good news is you won't have to pay any more bills or worry about the check in bars, which often makes you sad when you leave even though you're paying to be made happy by alcohol. You come in starving and leave staggering from drinking too much. You're sad you gave so much money, and sad that you took so much alcohol in. Your wallet and your head are both empty. Your head is worse off for feeling light and your wallet that used to be heavier is too light. You won't have to deal with this contradiction anymore. A rope you can buy for a penny is so kind! It can save you thousands of pounds at once. It's the only one who really owes you or lends you anything. It can discharge you from the past, the present and the future. Your neck is its pen, book, and and counter. It forgives you your debt immediately.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
I'm happier to die than you are to live.
FIRST GAOLER
Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache: but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.
FIRST JAILER
Yes, sir, someone who's asleep doesn't feel his toothache, but I think that someone who sleeps the kind of sleep you're going to would gladly change places with the hangman helping him to bed. Because, you see, sir, you don't know which way you'r going to go, to hell or heaven.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Yes, indeed do I, fellow.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Yes, I do.
FIRST GAOLER
Your death has eyes in 's head then; I have not seen him so pictured: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know, or do take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the after inquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one.
FIRST JAILER
Then your grim reaper has eyes in his skull. I haven't seen him illustrated that way. You must either have been told that by people who pretend to know, or you've decided for yourself what I'm sure you don't know and chosen to skip the judgement after you die, which is risky. I think you'll never come back to tell me how that will go for you.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes todirect them the way I am going, but such as wink andwill not use them.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Believe me, fellow, there's no one who can't see where I'm going except those who keep their eyes closed and refuse to use them.
FIRST GAOLER
What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of winking.
FIRST JAILER
What a joke that is, that a man would use his eyes to see what blindness looks like. I'm sure hanging is a way to shut your eyes.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER
Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king.
MESSENGER
Take off his handcuffs and bring your prisoner to the king.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
You bring good news. I'm being summoned to be set free.
FIRST GAOLER
I'll be hang'd then.
FIRST JAILER
If that's true then I'll be hanged.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
Then you will be freer than a jailor, because no locks can stop the dead.
Exeunt POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and Messenger
FIRST GAOLER
Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman: and there be some of them too that die against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good; O, there were desolation of gaolers and gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in 't.
FIRST JAILER
Unless a man married a noose and gave birth to young nooses, I never saw anyone so likely to be hanged. But I swear there are worse criminals who want to live, even though he's a Roman. And there are some of them who die against their wills. I would, if I were a criminal. I wish we all got along, and were all good people. Oh, then there would be no jobs for jailers and nooses! I'm arguing against my own profit, but I would also wish to be promoted to do something else.
Exeunt
