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Cymbeline: Act II, Scene 3

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Cymbeline
Act II, Scene 3

Britain. An antechamber adjoining Imogen’s apartment in Cymbeline’s palace.

Illustrations for the Daly production of Cymbeline

Hark, hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings

From: Illustrations for the Daly production of Cymbeline

Walford Graham Robertson, circa 1900

  1. Enter Cloten and Lords.

First Lord

1 - 2
  1. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most
  2. coldest that ever turn’d up ace.

Cloten

3
  1. It would make any man cold to lose.

First Lord

4 - 5
  1. But not every man patient after the noble temper of your
  2. lordship. You are most hot and furious when you win.

Cloten

6 - 8
  1. Winning will put any man into courage. If I could get this
  2. foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough. It’s almost
  3. morning, is’t not?

First Lord

9
  1. Day, my lord.

Cloten

10 - 16
  1. I would this music would come. I am advis’d to give her
  2. music a’ mornings; they say it will penetrate.
  3. Enter Musicians.
  4. Come on, tune. If you can penetrate her with your fingering,
  5. so; we’ll try with tongue too. If none will do, let her
  6. remain; but I’ll never give o’er. First, a very excellent
  7. good conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with
  8. admirable rich words to it—and then let her consider.

Singer

17 - 24
  1. Song.
  2. Hark, hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings,
  3. And Phoebus gins arise,
  4. His steeds to water at those springs
  5. On chalic’d flow’rs that lies;
  6. And winking Mary-buds begin to ope
  7. their golden eyes;
  8. With every thing that pretty is, my lady sweet, arise:
  9. Arise, arise!

Cloten

25 - 28
  1. So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will consider your
  2. music the better; if it do not, it is a vice in her ears,
  3. which horsehairs and calves’-guts, nor the voice of unpav’d
  4. eunuch to boot, can never amend.
  1. Exeunt Musicians.
  1. Enter Cymbeline and Queen.

Second Lord

29
  1. Here comes the King.

Cloten

30 - 33
  1. I am glad I was up so late, for that’s the reason I was up
  2. so early. He cannot choose but take this service I have done
  3. fatherly.—Good morrow to your Majesty, and to my gracious
  4. mother!

Cymbeline

34 - 35
  1. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
  2. Will she not forth?

Cloten

36 - 37
  1. I have assail’d her with musics, but she vouchsafes no
  2. notice.

Cymbeline

38 - 41
  1. The exile of her minion is too new,
  2. She hath not yet forgot him. Some more time
  3. Must wear the print of his remembrance on’t,
  4. And then she’s yours.

Queen

42 - 51
  1.                       You are most bound to th’ King,
  2. Who lets go by no vantages that may
  3. Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
  4. To orderly solicits, and be friended
  5. With aptness of the season; make denials
  6. Increase your services; so seem as if
  7. You were inspir’d to do those duties which
  8. You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
  9. Save when command to your dismission tends,
  10. And therein you are senseless.

Cloten

52
  1.                                Senseless? Not so.
  1. Enter a Messenger.

Messenger

53 - 54
  1. So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome;
  2. The one is Caius Lucius.

Cymbeline

55 - 63
  1.                          A worthy fellow,
  2. Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;
  3. But that’s no fault of his. We must receive him
  4. According to the honor of his sender,
  5. And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us,
  6. We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
  7. When you have given good morning to your mistress,
  8. Attend the Queen and us; we shall have need
  9. T’ employ you towards this Roman. Come, our queen.
  1. Exeunt all but Cloten.
Songs of Shakespeare

From: Songs of Shakespeare

H. C. Hoskyns Abrahall, 1865

Cloten

64 - 77
  1. If she be up, I’ll speak with her; if not,
  2. Let her lie still and dream.
  3. Knocks.
  4.                              By your leave ho!
  5. I know her women are about her; what
  6. If I do line one of their hands? ’Tis gold
  7. Which buys admittance (oft it doth), yea, and makes
  8. Diana’s rangers false themselves, yield up
  9. Their deer to th’ stand o’ th’ stealer; and ’tis gold
  10. Which makes the true man kill’d and saves the thief;
  11. Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man. What
  12. Can it not do, and undo? I will make
  13. One of her women lawyer to me, for
  14. I yet not understand the case myself.
  15. By your leave.
  1. Knocks.
  1. Enter Helen.

Helen

78
  1. Who’s there that knocks?

Cloten

79
  1.                          A gentleman.

Helen

80
  1.              No more?

Cloten

81
  1. Yes, and a gentlewoman’s son.

Helen

82 - 84
  1.                               That’s more
  2. Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours,
  3. Can justly boast of. What’s your lordship’s pleasure?

Cloten

85
  1. Your lady’s person. Is she ready?

Helen

86 - 87
  1.                                   Ay,
  2. To keep her chamber.

Cloten

88 - 89
  1.                      There is gold for you,
  2. Sell me your good report.

Helen

90 - 91
  1. How, my good name? Or to report of you
  2. What I shall think is good?—The Princess.
  1. Enter Imogen.

Cloten

92
  1. Good morrow, fairest: sister, your sweet hand.
  1. Exit Helen.

Imogen

93 - 96
  1. Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
  2. For purchasing but trouble. The thanks I give
  3. Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,
  4. And scarce can spare them.

Cloten

97
  1.                            Still I swear I love you.

Imogen

98 - 100
  1. If you but said so, ’twere as deep with me.
  2. If you swear still, your recompense is still
  3. That I regard it not.

Cloten

101
  1.                       This is no answer.

Imogen

102 - 106
  1. But that you shall not say I yield being silent,
  2. I would not speak. I pray you spare me. Faith,
  3. I shall unfold equal discourtesy
  4. To your best kindness; one of your great knowing
  5. Should learn, being taught, forbearance.

Cloten

107 - 108
  1. To leave you in your madness, ’twere my sin;
  2. I will not.

Imogen

109
  1. Fools are not mad folks.

Cloten

110
  1.                          Do you call me fool?

Imogen

111 - 120
  1. As I am mad, I do.
  2. If you’ll be patient, I’ll no more be mad;
  3. That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
  4. You put me to forget a lady’s manners
  5. By being so verbal; and learn now, for all,
  6. That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce
  7. By th’ very truth of it, I care not for you,
  8. And am so near the lack of charity
  9. To accuse myself I hate you; which I had rather
  10. You felt than make’t my boast.

Cloten

121 - 134
  1.                                You sin against
  2. Obedience, which you owe your father. For
  3. The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
  4. One bred of alms and foster’d with cold dishes,
  5. With scraps o’ th’ court, it is no contract, none;
  6. And though it be allowed in meaner parties
  7. (Yet who than he more mean?) to knit their souls
  8. (On whom there is no more dependency
  9. But brats and beggary) in self-figur’d knot,
  10. Yet you are curb’d from that enlargement by
  11. The consequence o’ th’ crown, and must not foil
  12. The precious note of it with a base slave,
  13. A hilding for a livery, a squire’s cloth,
  14. A pantler—not so eminent.
Songs from the Plays of Shakespeare

From: Songs from the Plays of Shakespeare

1915

Imogen

135 - 142
  1.                           Profane fellow!
  2. Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
  3. But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
  4. To be his groom. Thou wert dignified enough,
  5. Even to the point of envy, if ’twere made
  6. Comparative for your virtues, to be styl’d
  7. The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
  8. For being preferr’d so well.

Cloten

143
  1.                              The south-fog rot him!

Imogen

144 - 148
  1. He never can meet more mischance than come
  2. To be but nam’d of thee. His mean’st garment
  3. That ever hath but clipt his body, is dearer
  4. In my respect than all the hairs above thee,
  5. Were they all made such men. How now, Pisanio?
  1. Enter Pisanio.

Cloten

149
  1. “His garments”? Now the devil—

Imogen

150
  1. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently.

Cloten

151
  1. “His garment”?

Imogen

152 - 161
  1.                I am sprited with a fool,
  2. Frighted, and ang’red worse. Go bid my woman
  3. Search for a jewel that too casually
  4. Hath left mine arm. It was thy master’s. Shrew me
  5. If I would lose it for a revenue
  6. Of any king’s in Europe! I do think
  7. I saw’t this morning; confident I am,
  8. Last night ’twas on mine arm; I kiss’d it:
  9. I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
  10. That I kiss aught but he.

Pisanio

162
  1.                           ’Twill not be lost.

Imogen

163
  1. I hope so; go and search.
  1. Exit Pisanio.

Cloten

164 - 165
  1.                           You have abus’d me.
  2. “His meanest garment”?

Imogen

166 - 167
  1.                        Ay, I said so, sir;
  2. If you will make’t an action, call witness to’t.

Cloten

168
  1. I will inform your father.

Imogen

169 - 172
  1.                            Your mother too.
  2. She’s my good lady, and will conceive, I hope,
  3. But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir,
  4. To th’ worst of discontent.
  1. Exit.

Cloten

173 - 174
  1.                             I’ll be reveng’d.
  2. “His mean’st garment”? Well.
  1. Exit.
Cassell's Illustrated Shakespeare

You have abus’d me. “His meanest garment”?

From: Cassell's Illustrated Shakespeare

Charles Cowden Clarke, Mary Cowden Clarke, 1866

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