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Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

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Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens



Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

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Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

  • Published on: 2015-11-19
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 9.21" h x .44" w x 6.14" l, .88 pounds
  • Binding: Hardcover
  • 156 pages
Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

Review “A remarkable edition, one that makes Shakespeare’s extraordinary accomplishment more vivid than ever.”—James Shapiro, professor, Columbia University, bestselling author of A Year in the Life of Shakespeare: 1599 “A feast of literary and historical information.”—The Wall Street Journal

About the Author Arguably the greatest English-language playwright, William Shakespeare was a seventeenth-century writer and dramatist, and is known as the Bard of Avon. Under the patronage of Queen Elizabeth I, he penned more than 30 plays, 154 sonnets, and numerous narrative poems and short verses. Equally accomplished in histories, tragedies, comedy, and romance, Shakespeare s most famous works include Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear, The Taming of the Shrew, and As You Like It.

Like many of his contemporaries, including Christopher Marlowe, Shakespeare began his career on the stage, eventually rising to become part-owner of Lord Chamberlain s Men, a popular dramatic company of his day, and of the storied Globe Theatre in London.

Extremely popular in his lifetime, Shakespeare s works continue to resonate more than three hundred years after his death. His plays are performed more often than any other playwright s, have been translated into every major language in the world, and are studied widely by scholars and students.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter 1Act 1 Scene 1 running scene 1Enter two GentlemenFIRST GENTLEMAN??You do not meet a man but frowns. Our bloodsNo more obey the heavens than our courtiersStill seem as does the king.SECOND GENTLEMAN??But what's the matter?FIRST GENTLEMAN??His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom, whomHe purposed to his wife's sole son - a widowThat late he married - hath referred herselfUnto a poor but worthy gentleman. She's wedded,Her husband banished, she imprisoned, allIs outward sorrow, though I think the kingBe touched at very heart.SECOND GENTLEMAN??None but the king?FIRST GENTLEMAN??He that hath lost her too: so is the queen,That most desired the match. But not a courtier,Although they wear their faces to the bentOf the king's looks, hath a heart that is notGlad at the thing they scowl at.SECOND GENTLEMAN??And why so?FIRST GENTLEMAN??He that hath missed the princess is a thingToo bad for bad report: and he that hath her -I mean, that married her, alack, good man,And therefore banished - is a creature suchAs, to seek through the regions of the earthFor one his like, there would be something failingIn him that should compare. I do not thinkSo fair an outward and such stuff withinEndows a man but he.SECOND GENTLEMAN??You speak him far.FIRST GENTLEMAN??I do extend, sir, within himself,Crush him together rather than unfoldHis measure duly.SECOND GENTLEMAN??What's his name and birth?FIRST GENTLEMAN??I cannot delve him to the root: his fatherWas called Sicilius, who did join his honourAgainst the Romans with Cassibelan,But had his titles by Tenantius whomHe served with glory and admired success:So gained the sur-addition Leonatus.And had, besides this gentleman in question,Two other sons, who in the wars o'th'timeDied with their swords in hand. For which their father,Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrowThat he quit being, and his gentle lady,Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceasedAs he was born. The king he takes the babeTo his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,Breeds him, and makes him of his bedchamber,Puts to him all the learnings that his timeCould make him the receiver of, which he tookAs we do air, fast as 'twas ministered,And in's spring became a harvest: lived in court -Which rare it is to do - most praised, most loved:A sample to the youngest, to th'more matureA glass that feated them, and to the graver,A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,For whom he now is banished, her own priceProclaims how she esteemed him; and his virtueBy her election may be truly read,What kind of man he is.SECOND GENTLEMAN??I honour him even out of your report.But pray you tell me, is she sole child to th'king?FIRST GENTLEMAN??His only child.He had two sons - if this be worth your hearing,Mark it - the eldest of them at three years old,I'th'swathing clothes the other, from their nurseryWere stol'n, and to this hour no guess in knowledgeWhich way they went.SECOND GENTLEMAN??How long is this ago?FIRST GENTLEMAN??Some twenty years.SECOND GENTLEMAN??That a king's children should be so conveyed,So slackly guarded, and the search so slowThat could not trace them.FIRST GENTLEMAN??Howsoe'er 'tis strange,Or that the negligence may well be laughed at,Yet is it true, sir.SECOND GENTLEMAN??I do well believe you.FIRST GENTLEMAN??We must forbear. Here comes the gentleman,The queen and princess. ExeuntEnter the Queen, Posthumus and InnogenQUEEN No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter,After the slander of most stepmothers,Evil-eyed unto you. You're my prisoner, butYour jailer shall deliver you the keysThat lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,So soon as I can win th'offended king,I will be known your advocate: marry, yetThe fire of rage is in him, and 'twere goodYou leaned unto his sentence, with what patienceYour wisdom may inform you.POSTHUMUS Please your highness,I will from hence today.QUEEN You know the peril.I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pityingThe pangs of barred affections, though the kingHath charged you should not speak together. ExitINNOGEN O dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrantCan tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing -Always reserved my holy duty - whatHis rage can do on me. You must be gone,And I shall here abide the hourly shotOf angry eyes: not comforted to live,But that there is this jewel in the worldThat I may see again.POSTHUMUS My queen, my mistress:O lady, weep no more, lest I give causeTo be suspected of more tendernessThan doth become a man. I will remainThe loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth.My residence in Rome, at one Philario's,Who to my father was a friend, to meKnown but by letter: thither write, my queen,And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,Though ink be made of gall.Enter QueenQUEEN Be brief, I pray you:If the king come, I shall incur I know notHow much of his displeasure.- Yet I'll move him AsideTo walk this way: I never do him wrong,But he does buy my injuries to be friends:Pays dear for my offences. [Exit]POSTHUMUS Should we be taking leaveAs long a term as yet we have to live,The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu.INNOGEN Nay, stay a little:Were you but riding forth to air yourself,Such parting were too petty. Look here, love,This diamond was my mother's; take it, heart, Gives a ringBut keep it till you woo another wife,When Innogen is dead.POSTHUMUS How, how? Another?You gentle gods, give me but this I have,And cere up my embracements from a nextWith bonds of death. Remain, remain thou here Puts on the ringWhile sense can keep it on: and sweetest, fairest,As I my poor self did exchange for youTo your so infinite loss, so in our triflesI still win of you. For my sake wear this,It is a manacle of love. I'll place itUpon this fairest prisoner. Puts a bracelet on her armINNOGEN O, the gods!When shall we see again?Enter Cymbeline and LordsPOSTHUMUS Alack, the king!CYMBELINE Thou basest thing, avoid hence, from my sight:If after this command thou fraught the courtWith thy unworthiness, thou diest. Away,Thou'rt poison to my blood.POSTHUMUS The gods protect you,And bless the good remainders of the court:I am gone. ExitINNOGEN There cannot be a pinch in deathMore sharp than this is.CYMBELINE O disloyal thing,That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'stA year's age on me.INNOGEN I beseech you, sir,Harm not yourself with your vexation,I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rareSubdues all pangs, all fears.CYMBELINE Past grace? Obedience?INNOGEN Past hope and in despair: that way past grace.CYMBELINE That mightst have had the sole son of my queen.INNOGEN O, blest that I might not: I chose an eagle,And did avoid a puttock.CYMBELINE Thou took'st a beggar, wouldst have made my throneA seat for baseness.INNOGEN No, I rather added a lustre to it.CYMBELINE O thou vile one!INNOGEN Sir,It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus:You bred him as my playfellow, and he isA man worth any woman: overbuys meAlmost the sum he pays.CYMBELINE What? Art thou mad?INNOGEN Almost, sir: heaven restore me! Would I wereA neatherd's daughter, and my LeonatusOur neighbour shepherd's son.Enter QueenCYMBELINE Thou foolish thing!-They were again together: you have done To QueenNot after our command.- Away with her,And pen her up.QUEEN Beseech your patience: peace,Dear lady daughter, peace. Sweet sovereign,Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some comfortOut of your best advice.CYMBELINE Nay, let her languishA drop of blood a day, and being aged,Die of this folly. Exeunt [Cymbeline and Lords]Enter PisanioQUEEN Fie, you must give way.Here is your servant.- How now, sir? What news?PISANIO My lord your son drew on my master.QUEEN Ha?No harm I trust is done?PISANIO There might have been,But that my master rather played than fought,And had no help of anger: they were partedBy gentlemen at hand.QUEEN I am very glad on't.INNOGEN Your son's my father's friend, he takes his partTo draw upon an exile.- O brave sir!-I would they were in Afric both together,Myself by with a needle, that I might prickThe goer-back.-Why came you from your master?PISANIO On his command: he would not suffer meTo bring him to the haven: left these notesOf what commands I should be subject to,When't pleased you to employ me.QUEEN This hath beenYour faithful servant: I dare lay mine honourHe will remain so.PISANIO I humbly thank your highness.QUEEN Pray walk awhile. To InnogenINNOGEN About some half hour hence, pray you speak with me. To PisanioYou shall, at least, go see my lord aboard.For this time leave me. ExeuntAct 1 Scene 2 running scene 1 continuesEnter Cloten and two LordsFIRST LORD Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice: where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.CLOTEN If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?SECOND LORD??No, faith: not so much as his patience. AsideFIRST LORD Hurt him? His body's a passable carcass if he be not hurt. It is a thoroughfare for steel if it be not hurt.SECOND LORD??His steel was in debt, it went o'th'backside the town. AsideCLOTEN The villain would not stand me.SECOND LORD??No, but he fled forward still, toward your face. AsideFIRST LORD Stand you? You have land enough of your own: but he added to your having, gave you some ground.SECOND LORD??As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies! AsideCLOTEN I would they had not come between us.SECOND LORD??So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. AsideCLOTEN And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me!SECOND LORD??If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. AsideFIRST LORD Sir, as I told you always: her beauty and her brain go not together. She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.SECOND LORD??She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. AsideCLOTEN Come, I'll to my chamber: would there had been some hurt done.SECOND LORD??I wish not so, unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. AsideCLOTEN You'll go with us?FIRST LORD I'll attend your lordship.CLOTEN Nay, come, let's go together.SECOND LORD??Well, my lord. ExeuntAct 1 Scene 3 running scene 1 continuesEnter Innogen and PisanioINNOGEN I would thou grew'st unto the shores o'th'haven,And questioned'st every sail: if he should write,And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost,As offered mercy is. What was the lastThat he spake to thee?PISANIO It was his queen, his queen.INNOGEN Then waved his handkerchief?PISANIO And kissed it, madam.INNOGEN Senseless linen, happier therein than I:And that was all?PISANIO No, madam: for so longAs he could make me with this eye, or ear,Distinguish him from others, he did keepThe deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,Still waving, as the fits and stirs of's mindCould best express how slow his soul sailed on,How swift his ship.INNOGEN Thou shouldst have made himAs little as a crow, or less, ere leftTo after-eye him.PISANIO Madam, so I did.INNOGEN I would have broke mine eyestrings, cracked them, butTo look upon him, till the diminutionOf space had pointed him sharp as my needle:Nay, followed him, till he had melted fromThe smallness of a gnat to air: and thenHave turned mine eye, and wept. But, good Pisanio,When shall we hear from him?PISANIO Be assured, madam,With his next vantage.INNOGEN I did not take my leave of him, but hadMost pretty things to say: ere I could tell himHow I would think on him at certain hours,Such thoughts and such: or I could make him swearThe shes of Italy should not betrayMine interest and his honour: or have charged him,At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,T'encounter me with orisons, for thenI am in heaven for him: or ere I couldGive him that parting kiss, which I had setBetwixt two charming words, comes in my father,And like the tyrannous breathing of the north,Shakes all our buds from growing.Enter a LadyLADY The queen, madam,Desires your highness' company.INNOGEN Those things I bid you do, get them dispatched.I will attend the queen.PISANIO Madam, I shall. ExeuntAct 1 Scene 4 running scene 2Enter Philario, Iachimo, a Frenchman, a Dutchman and a SpaniardIACHIMO Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain; he was then of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy as since he hath been allowed the name of. But I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration, though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side and I to peruse him by items.PHILARIO You speak of him when he was less furnished than now he is with that which makes him both without and within.FRENCHMAN I have seen him in France: we had very many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.IACHIMO This matter of marrying his king's daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his own, words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter.FRENCHMAN And then his banishment.IACHIMO Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce under her colours are wonderfully to extend him, be it but to fortify her judgement, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without less quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance?PHILARIO His father and I were soldiers together, to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life.Enter PosthumusHere comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained amongst you as suits with gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better known to this gentleman, whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine. How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.


Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

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64 of 72 people found the following review helpful. A late, loony, self- parodying masterpiece By A Customer "Cymbeline" is my favourite Shakespeare play. It's also probably his loopiest. It has three plots, managing to drag in a banishment, a murder, a wicked queen, a moment of almost sheer pornography, a full-on battle between the Romans and the British, a spunky heroine, her jealous but not-really-all-that-bad husband, some fantastic poetry and Jupiter himself descending out of heaven on an eagle to tell the husband to pull his finger out and get looking for his wife. Finally, just when your head is spinning with all the cross-purposes and dangling resolutions, Shakespeare pulls it all together with shameless neatness and everybody lives happily ever after. Except for the wicked queen, and her son, who had his head cut off in Act 4."Cymbeline" is, then, completely nuts, but it manages also to be very moving. Quentin Tarantino once described his method as "placing genre characters in real-life situations" - Shakespeare pulls off the far more rewarding trick of placing realistic characters in genre situations. Kicking off with one of the most brazen bits of expository dialogue he ever created, not even bothering to give the two lords who have to explain the back story an ounce of personality, Shakespeare quickly recovers full control and races through his long, complex and deeply implausible narrative at a headlong pace. The play is outrageously theatrical, and yet intensely observed. Imogen's reaction on reading her husband's false accusation of her infidelity is a riveting mixture of hurt and anger; she goes through as much tragedy as a Juliet, yet is less inclined to buckle and snap under the pressure. When she wakes up next to a headless body that she believes to be her husband, her aria of grief is one of the finest WS ever wrote. No less impressive is her plucky determination to get on with her life, rather than follow her hubby into the grave.Posthumus, the hubby in question, is made of less attractive stuff, but when he comes to believe that Imogen is dead, as he ordered (this play is full of people getting things wrong and suffering for it), he rejects his earlier jealousy and starts to redeem himself a tad. There's a vicious misogyny near the heart of this play, as Shakespeare biographer Park Honan observed, kept in balance by a hatred of violence against women. The oafish prince Cloten, who lusts after Imogen, is a truly repellent piece of work, without even the intelligence of Iago or the horrified panic of Macbeth; his plan to kill Posthumus and rape Imogen before her husband's body is just about as squalid and vindictive as we expect of this louse, and when a long-lost son of the king (don't even _ask_) lops Cloten's head off, there are cheers all round.Shakespeare sends himself up all through "Cymbeline". I wonder if the almost ludicrously informative opening exposition scene isn't a bit of a gag on his part, but when a tired and angry Posthumus breaks into rhyming couplets, then catches himself and observes "You have put me into rhyme", we know that Shakespeare is having us on a little. Likewise, the final scene, when all is resolved, goes totally over the top in its piling-on "But-what-of-such-and-such?" and "My-Lord-I-forgot-to-mention" moments.Yet the moments of terror and pity are deep enough to make the jokiness feel truly earned. When Imogen is laid to rest and her adoptive brothers recite "Fear no more the heat o' the sun" over her body, it's as affecting as any moment in the canon. That she isn't actually dead, we don't find out until a few moments later, but it's still a great moment.Playful, confusing, enigmatic, funny and shot through with a frightening darkness, this is another top job by the Stratford boy. Well done.

22 of 26 people found the following review helpful. misleading and outdated By A Customer This is probably one of the most outdated and misleading of the Arden editions. Nosworthy really doesn't like the play and dismisses it as an experiment leading up to _The Tempest_. Even his editing of the text is affected by his reading of the play. Only scholars who know something about Shakespeare should venture here.

22 of 27 people found the following review helpful. Simply Magnificent By Sean Ares Hirsch A combination of "Romeo and Juliet," "Much Ado About Nothing," "As You Like It," and "King Lear?" Well somehow, Shakespeare made it work. Like "Romeo and Juliet" we have a protagonist (Imogen) who falls under her father's rages because she will not marry who he wants her to. Like "Much Ado About Nothing," we have a villain (Iachimo) who tries to convince a man (Posthumus) that the woman he loves is full of infidelity. Like "As You Like It," we have exiled people who praise life in the wilderness and a woman who disguises herself as a man to search for her family in the wilderness. Like "King Lear," we have a king who's rages and miscaculated judgement lead to disastorous consequences. What else is there? Only beautiful language, multiple plots, an evil queen who tries to undermind the king, an action filled war, suspense, a dream with visions of Pagan gods, and a beautiful scene of reconciliation at the end. While this is certainly one of Shakespeare's longer plays, it is well worth the time.

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Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens
Cymbeline, by William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens

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