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Cymbeline

Cymbeline Translation Act 3, Scene 5

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Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, Lords, and Attendants

CYMBELINE

Thus far; and so farewell.

CYMBELINE

That's all I have to say, so goodbye.

CAIUS LUCIUS

Thanks, royal sir. My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence; And am right sorry that I must report ye My master's enemy.

CAIUS LUCIUS

Thanks, sir. My emperor wrote to me to leave. I am sorry I'll have to tell him you're his enemy.

CYMBELINE

Our subjects, sir, Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself To show less sovereignty than they, must needs Appear unkinglike.

CYMBELINE

My subjects won't allow him to oppress us anymore. And if I were less eager for freedom than they are, I would seem less king-like than them.

CAIUS LUCIUS

So, sir: I desire of youA conduct over-land to Milford-Haven.Madam, all joy befal your grace!

CAIUS LUCIUS

All right, sir. I'd like to be accompanied to Milford-Haven over land. Ma'am, my best wishes to you.

QUEEN

And you!

QUEEN

And you!

CYMBELINE

My lords, you are appointed for that office;The due of honour in no point omit.So farewell, noble Lucius.

CYMBELINE

My lords, you're here to accompany him. Treat him well. Goodbye, noble Lucius.

CAIUS LUCIUS

Your hand, my lord.

CAIUS LUCIUS

Let me shake your hand, my lord.

CLOTEN

Receive it friendly; but from this time forthI wear it as your enemy.

CLOTEN

Shake it as a friend, but from now on my hand will be your enemy.

CAIUS LUCIUS

Sir, the eventIs yet to name the winner: fare you well.

CAIUS LUCIUS

Sir, we don't know how the fight will go yet. Goodbye.

CYMBELINE

Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness!

CYMBELINE

Don't leave honorable Lucius, my good lords, until he has crossed the river Severn. Best wishes!

Exeunt LUCIUS and Lords

QUEEN

He goes hence frowning: but it honours usThat we have given him cause.

QUEEN

He's leaving us with a frown. It reflects well on us that we gave him a reason to frown.

CLOTEN

'Tis all the better;Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.

CLOTEN

It's the best thing. Your subjects the brave Britons are getting what they want.

CYMBELINE

Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness: The powers that he already hath in Gallia Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britain.

CYMBELINE

Lucius already wrote to the emperor about what happened here. So we should prepare our war chariots and cavalry. The emperor will summon the troops he has stationed in France. From there, he'll attack Britain.

QUEEN

'Tis not sleepy business;But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.

QUEEN

We can't be lazy about this, but have to act quickly and well.

CYMBELINE

Our expectation that it would be thus Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen, Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd The duty of the day: she looks us like A thing more made of malice than of duty: We have noted it. Call her before us; for We have been too slight in sufferance.

CYMBELINE

I thought this would happen so I prepared for this. But, my dear queen, where is our daughter? She didn't talk to the Roman ambassador, and hasn't come to say good morning to me yet. She's become mean and forgotten her responsibilities. I've noticed. Tell her to come see me. I've been too easygoing with her punishment.

Exit an Attendant

QUEEN

Royal sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord, 'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty, Forbear sharp speeches to her: she's a lady So tender of rebukes that words are strokes And strokes death to her.

QUEEN

Sir, she hasn't been around people very much since Posthumus was exiled. She needs time to get over that. Please, your majesty, don't be too hard on her. She's so sensititve to criticism that criticizing her is like hitting her, and hitting her is like killing her.

Re-enter Attendant

CYMBELINE

Where is she, sir? HowCan her contempt be answer'd?

CYMBELINE

Where is she, sir? What can I say in response to the disrespect she shows me?

ATTENDANT

Please you, sir,Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answerThat will be given to the loudest noise we make.

ATTENDANT

Sir, her rooms are locked, and there was no answer even when we knocked as loudly as we could.

QUEEN

My lord, when last I went to visit her, She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close, Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity, She should that duty leave unpaid to you, Which daily she was bound to proffer: this She wish'd me to make known; but our great court Made me to blame in memory.

QUEEN

My lord, when I last visited her she asked me to forgive her for staying in her room. Because she's not feeling well, she said she wouldn't be able to come see you every day the way she used to. She wanted me to tell you this, but I was distracted by all the things happening in court and forgot.

CYMBELINE

Her doors lock'd?Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fearProve false!

CYMBELINE

Her doors are locked? She hasn't been seen lately? Gods, please let me be wrong about what I'm afraid has happened!

Exit

QUEEN

Son, I say, follow the king.

QUEEN

Son, follow the king.

CLOTEN

That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,have not seen these two days.

CLOTEN

That old servant of hers, Pisanio, hasn't been seen for two days.

QUEEN

Go, look after.

QUEEN

Go, follow him.

Exit CLOTEN

QUEEN

Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus! He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes It is a thing most precious. But for her, Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized her, Or, wing'd with fervor of her love, she's flown To her desired Posthumus: gone she is To death or to dishonour; and my end Can make good use of either: she being down, I have the placing of the British crown.

QUEEN

Pisanio, you substitute for Posthumus! He has a drug of mine. I pray that he's absent from court because he drank it, believing it was a really effective medicine. But as for her, where is she? Maybe she's depressed, or her love has made her run away to see her beloved Posthumus. She's gone, and is either dead or dishonored. I can work with either of those outcomes. Now she's out of the way, I decide who gets the British crown.

Re-enter CLOTEN

How now, my son!

Well, son?

CLOTEN

'Tis certain she is fled.Go in and cheer the king: he rages; noneDare come about him.

CLOTEN

She's definitely run away. Go and comfort the king. He's furious. No one dares go near him.

QUEEN

[Aside] All the better: mayThis night forestall him of the coming day!

QUEEN

[To herself] That's all for the best. I hope he dies tonight!

Exit

CLOTEN

I love and hate her: for she's fair and royal, And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Than lady, ladies, woman; from every one The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, Outsells them all; I love her therefore: but Disdaining me and throwing favours on The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment That what's else rare is choked; and in that point I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed, To be revenged upon her. For when fools Shall—

CLOTEN

I love and hate her. She's beautiful and royal, and all her desirable parts are more beautiful than those of any lady, and ladies, any woman. She's taken the best parts from all women, and mixing them all together is worth more than any of them. That's why I love her. But disrespecting me and throwing herself away on low Posthumus makes her seem so brainless that all her other good qualities don't matter. So for that I'll decide to hate her, no, more than that: to be revenged against her. Because when foolish people— 

Enter PISANIO

Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah? Come hither: ah, you precious pander! Villain, Where is thy lady? In a word; or else Thou art straightway with the fiends.

Who is here? What are you up to? Come here, you dainty pimp! You thug, where's your mistress? Tell me now, or I'll kill you and send you to hell.

PISANIO

O, good my lord!

PISANIO

Oh, my good lord!

CLOTEN

Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter,— I will not ask again. Close villain, I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus? From whose so many weights of baseness cannot A dram of worth be drawn.

CLOTEN

Where is your mistress? Or, by Jupiter—I won't ask again. You sneaking thug, I'll get this secret out of your brain, or rip out your brain. Is she with Posthumus? He's so worthless, he doesn't have an ounce of goodness in him.

PISANIO

Alas, my lord,How can she be with him? When was she missed?He is in Rome.

PISANIO

Unfortunately, sir, how could she be with him? How long has she been gone? He's in Rome.

CLOTEN

Where is she, sir? Come nearer;No further halting: satisfy me homeWhat is become of her.

CLOTEN

Where is she, sir? Come closer. Don't delay any more. Tell me what happened to her.

PISANIO

O, my all-worthy lord!

PISANIO

Oh, my excellent lord!

CLOTEN

All-worthy villain! Discover where thy mistress is at once, At the next word: no more of 'worthy lord!' Speak, or thy silence on the instant is Thy condemnation and thy death.

CLOTEN

You excellent thug! Tell me where your mistress is at once, with the next words you say. No more of this "excellent lord" stuff! Speak, or your silence will condemn you to death.

PISANIO

Then, sir,This paper is the history of my knowledgeTouching her flight.

PISANIO

Then, sir, this paper contains everything I know about her escape.

Presenting a letter

CLOTEN

Let's see't. I will pursue herEven to Augustus' throne.

CLOTEN

Let's see this. I will follow her even as far as Augustus's throne in Rome.

PISANIO

[Aside] Or this, or perish.She's far enough; and what he learns by thisMay prove his travel, not her danger.

PISANIO

[To himself] I had no choice except to give him the letter or die. She's far enough away, and what he learns from the letter might make him travel, but won't put her in danger.

CLOTEN

Hum!

CLOTEN

Hmm!

PISANIO

[Aside] I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen,Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!

PISANIO

[To himself] I'll write to my master that she's dead. Oh Imogen, travel safely and come back safe!

CLOTEN

Sirrah, is this letter true?

CLOTEN

Sir, is this letter real?

PISANIO

Sir, as I think.

PISANIO

I think so, sir.

CLOTEN

It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo those employments wherein I should have cause to use thee with a serious industry, that is, what villany soe'er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly, I would think thee an honest man: thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief nor my voice for thy preferment.

CLOTEN

It's Posthumus's handwriting: I recognize it. Sir, if you don't want to be a thug anymore but instead want to be a good servant to me, do the things I tell you as well as you can. I mean, whatever criminal acts I ask you to do, do immediately and well. Then I'll think you're an honest man. You'll always be able to count on my money to get you out of trouble and I'll be a character reference for you.

PISANIO

Well, my good lord.

PISANIO

All right, my good lord. 

CLOTEN

Wilt thou serve me? for since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine: wilt thou serve me?

CLOTEN

Will you obey me? Given how patiently and loyally you stuck by that beggar Posthumus, who has no money, you'll definitely be loyal to me. Will you obey me?

PISANIO

Sir, I will.

PISANIO

Sir, I will.

CLOTEN

Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thylate master's garments in thy possession?

CLOTEN

Give me your hand: here's my purse. Do you have access to any of your last master's clothes?

PISANIO

I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit hewore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.

PISANIO

My lord, I have in my room the outfit he wore when he said goodbye to my mistress.

CLOTEN

The first service thou dost me, fetch that suithither: let it be thy lint service; go.

CLOTEN

The first thing you'll do in my service is fetch that outfit. It'll be a laundry run. Go.

PISANIO

I shall, my lord.

PISANIO

I will, my lord.

Exit

CLOTEN

Meet thee at Milford-Haven!—I forgot to ask him one thing; I'll remember't anon:—even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would these garments were come. She said upon a time—the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart—that she held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural person together with the adornment of my qualities. With that suit upon my back, will I ravish her: first kill him, and in her eyes; there shall she see my valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath dined,—which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the clothes that she so praised,—to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

CLOTEN

"Meet you at Milford-Haven!" I forgot to ask him one thing. I'll remember what it is soon. You thug, Posthumus, I'll kill you there. I wish those clothes were here already. She said once—it was so mean it makes me belch—that she respected Posthumus's clothes more than my noble and well endowed body and all my good qualities combined. Wearing that suit, I'll rape her. First I'll kill him, while she watches. Then she'll see how brave I am, and she'll be sorry about disrespecting me. With him lying on the ground, once my insulting speech to his dead body is over, and when I have satisfied my lust—which, as I said, to get back at her I'll do while wearing the clothes she was so enthusiastic about—I'll drag her back to court, kick her home. She was happy while insulting me, and I'll be happy to get my revenge on her.

Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes

Be those the garments?

Are those the clothes?

PISANIO

Ay, my noble lord.

PISANIO

Yes, my noble lord.

CLOTEN

How long is't since she went to Milford-Haven?

CLOTEN

How long ago did she go to Milford-Haven?

PISANIO

She can scarce be there yet.

PISANIO

She'll be getting there around now.

CLOTEN

Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I have commanded thee: the third is, that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford: would I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true.

CLOTEN

Bring these clothes to my room. That is the second order I've given you. The third is, that you won't say anything abut my plan. Just be obedient and I'll promote you. I'll get my revenge at Milford. I wish I had wings so I could get there more quickly. Come on, and be loyal to me.

Exit

PISANIO

Thou bid'st me to my loss: for true to thee Were to prove false, which I will never be, To him that is most true. To Milford go, And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed Be cross'd with slowness; labour be his meed!

PISANIO

You're asking me to do something self-destructive. If I'm loyal to you, I'll betray the most honest man in the world, which I'll never do. Go to Milford, and don't find the woman you're chasing. Bless her, gods! Slow this fool down, and let his only reward be to work hard!

Exit

Cymbeline
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