"THE Tragedie of Cymbeline' was first printed in the folio collection of 1623. The play is very carefully divided into acts and scenes-an arrangement which is sometimes wanting in other plays of this edition. Printed as 'Cymbeline' must have been from a manuscript, the text, although sometimes difficult, presents few examples of absolute error. In Cymbeline,' we are thrown back into the half-fabulous history of our own country, and see all objects under the dim light of uncertain events and manners. We have civilisation contending with semi-barbarism; the gorgeous worship of the Pagan world subduing to itself the more simple worship of the Druidical times; kings and courtiers surrounded with the splendour of "barbaric pearl and gold ;" and, even in those days of simplicity, a wilder and a simpler life, amidst the fastnesses of mountains, and the solitude of caves-the hunters' life, who "have seen nothing," but who yet, in their natural piety, know "how to adore the heavens." If these attributes of the drama had been less absorbing, we perhaps might have more readily seen the real course of the dramatic action. We venture to express our opinion, that one predominant idea does exist. The dialogue of the "two Gentlemen" in the opening scene makes us perfectly acquainted with the relations in which Posthumus and Imogen stand to each other, and to those around them. "She 's wedded, her husband banish'd." We have next the character of the banished husband, and of the unworthy suitor who is the cause of his banishment; as well as the story of the king's two lost sons. This is essentially the foundation of the past and future of the. action. Brief indeed is this scene, but it well prepares us for the parting of Posthumus and Imogen. The course of their affections is turned awry by the wills of others. The angry king at once proclaims himself to us as one not cruel, but weak; he has before been described as "touch'd at very heart." It is only in the intensity of her affection for Posthumus that Imogen opposes her own will to the impatient violence of her father, and the more crafty decision of her stepmother. But she is surrounded with a third evil, "A father cruel, and a step-dame false, A foolish suitor to a wedded lady." Worse, however, even than these, her honour is to be assailed, her character vilified, by a subtle stranger; who, perhaps more in sport than in malice, has resolved to win a paltry wager by the sacrifice of her happiness and that of her husband. What has she to oppose to all this complication of violence and cunning? Her perfect purity-her entire simplicity her freedom from everything that is selfish-the strength only of her affections. The scene between Iachimo and Imogen is a contest of innocence with guile, most profoundly affecting, in spite of the few coarsenesses that were perhaps unavoidable, and which were not considered offensive in Shakspere's day. This is the First Act; and, if we mistake not the object of Shakspere, these opening scenes exhibit one of the most confiding and gentle of human beings, assailed on every side by a determination of purpose, whether in the shape of violence, wickedness, or folly, against which, under ordinary circumstances, innocence may be supposed to be an insufficient shield. But the very helplessness of Imogen is her protection. In the exquisite Second Scene of the Second Act, the perfect purity of Imogen, as interpreted by Shakspere, has converted what would have been a most dangerous situation in the hands of another poet, into one of the most refined delicacy.-The immediate danger is passed; but there is a new danger approaching. The will of her unhappy husband, deceived into madness, is to be added to the evils which she has already received from violence and selfishness. Posthumus, intending to destroy her, writes "Take notice that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven; what your own love will out of this advise you, follow." She does follow her own love; --she has no other guide but the strength of her affections; that strength makes her hardy and fearless of consequences. It is the one duty, as well as the one pleasure, of her existence. How is that affection requited? Pisanio places in her hand, when they have reached the deepest solitude of the mountains, that letter by which he is commanded to take away her life. One passing thought of herself-one faint reproach of her husband, and she submits to the fate which is prepared for her. But her truth and innocence have already subdued the will of the sworn servant of her husband. He comforts her, but he necessarily leaves her in the wilderness. The spells of evil wills are still around her : Here is a box, I had it from the queen." Perhaps there is nothing in Shakspere more beautifully managed, more touching in its romance, more essentially true to nature, than the scenes between Imogen and her unknown brothers. The gentleness, the grace, the "grief and patience" of the helpless Fidele, producing at once the deepest reverence and affection in the bold and daring mountaineers, still carry forward the character of Imogen under the same aspects. "The bird is dead;" she was sick, and we almost fear that the words of the dirge are true.-But she awakes, and she has still to endure the last and the worst evil-her husband, in her apprehension, lies dead before her. She has no wrongs to think of "O my lord, my lord," is all, in connection with Posthumus, that escapes amidst her tears. The beauty and innocence which saved her from Iachimo,—which conquered Pisanio,-which won the wild hunters,— commend her to the Roman general-she is at once protected. But she has holy duties still to perform.-It is the unconquerable affection of Imogen which makes us pity Posthumus, even while we blame him for the rash exercise of his revengeful will. But in his deep repentance we more than pity him. We see only another victim of worldly craft and selfishness. In the prison scene his spirit is again united with hers.-The contest we now feel is over between the selfish and the unselfish, the crafty and the simple, the proud and the meek, the violent and the gentle. CYMBELINE, King of Britain. Appears, Act I. sc. 2. Act II. sc. 3. Act III. sc. 1; sc. 5. Act IV. sc. 3. Act V. sc. 5. CLOTEN, son to the Queen, by a former husband. Appears, Act I. sc. 3. Act II. sc. 1; sc. 3. Act III. sc. 1; sc. 5. Act IV. sc. 1; sc. 2. LEONATUS POSTHUMUS, husband to Imogen. Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 5. Act II. sc. 4; sc. 5. Act V. sc. 1; sc. 2; sc. 3; sc. 4; sc. 5. BELARIUS, a banished lord, disguised under the name of Morgan. Appears, Act III. sc. 3; sc. 6. Act IV. sc. 2; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 2; sc. 5. GUIDERIUS, son to Cymbeline, disguised under the name of Polydore, supposed son to Belarius. Appears, Act III. sc. 3; sc. 6. Act IV. sc. 2; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 2; sc. 5. ARVIRAGUS, son to Cymbeline, disguised under the name of Cadwal, supposed son to Belarius. Appears, Act III. sc. 3; sc. 6. Act IV. sc. 2; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 2; sc. 5. PHILARIO, a Roman, friend to Posthumus. Appears, Act I. sc. 5. Act II. sc. 4. IACHIMO, a Roman, friend to Posthumus. Appears, Act I. sc. 5; sc. 7. Act II. sc. 2; sc. 4. Act V. sc. 2; sc. 5. A French Gentleman, friend to Philario. Appears, Act I. sc. 5. CAIUS LUCIUS, general of the Roman forces. Appears, Act III. sc. 1; sc. 5. Act IV. sc. 2. Act V. sc. 2; sc. 5. A Roman Captain. Appears, Act IV. sc. 2. Two British Captains. Appear, Act V. sc. 3. PISANIO, gentleman to Posthumus. Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 4; sc. 6; sc. 7. Act II. sc. 3. CORNELIUS, a physician. Two Gentlemen of Cymbeline's Court. Two Gaolers. Appear, Act V. sc. 4. QUEEN, wife to Cymbeline. Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 6. Act II. sc. 3. IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline, by a former Queen. Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 4; sc. 7. Act II. sc. 2; sc. 3. Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Apparitions, a Soothsayer, Musicians, Of ficers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. SCENE, SOMETIMES IN BRITAIN; SOMETIMES IN ROME. SCENE I.-Britain. The Garden behind Cymbeline's Palace. Enter Two Gentlemen. 1 GENT. You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers Still seem as does the kinga. 2 GENT. But what 's the matter? a The passage in the original edition (folio of 1623) stands thus: "You do not meet a man but frowns. Our bloods no more obey the heavens Still seem, as do's the king's." In modern editions courtiers is sometimes printed as the genitive case; sometimes is cut off from the verb seem by a semicolon, and the king's is retained as the genitive case. This we have ventured to alter to king, as Tyrwhitt suggested. As we have punctuated the passage, we think it presents no difficulty. Blood is used by Shakspere for natural disposition, as in 'All's Well that Ends Well' "Now his important blood will nought deny That she 'll demand." The 1 GENT. His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, whom That late he married,) hath referr'd herself Is outward sorrow; though, I think, the king 1 GENT. He that hath lost her, too: so is the queen, Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not 2 GENT. And why so? The meaning of the passage then is-You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods do not more obey the heavens than our courtiers still seem as the king seems. As is afterwards expressed"they wear their faces to the bent Of the king's looks." a You carry your praise far. Extend is here used in the same sense as in the fifth Scene of this Act: "His banishment, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce are wonderfully to extend him." The Gentleman says-I do extend him-appreciate his good qualities-but only within the real limits of what they are: instead of unfolding his measure duly, I crush him together-compress his excellence. Malone thinks that the term extend is originally legal. An extent, according to Blackstone, is an order to the sheriff to appraise lands or goods to their full extended value. It is a well-known term in old Scotch law, meaning nearly the same as a census or valuation. |