Cymbeline 1.I.b

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN

QUEEN. {No, be assur'd you shall not find me, daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you.} [] You're my prisoner, but [thesis / antithesis]

{Rest assured that, unlike most stepmothers, I'm not an evil stepmother.}

Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win th' offended King,
I will be known your advocate. [] Marry [indeed], yet
The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good
You [] lean'd unto [obeyed] his sentence with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

[Possible actions: placate, assure, enter-into-a-conspiracy-with. The Queen first addresses Imogen, then Posthumus, and the speech takes the broad form of "you ... and now YOU." To Imogen, she offers rescue; to Posthumus, she warns and cautions. Her goal here is to hasten P's departure without making I hate her. He does this by saying, "It's not ME, it's the King. He's really pissed of at you Posthumus. On the other hand, I'm the hero who is going to save Imogen."]

POSTHUMUS. Please your Highness, [Shared line. He cuts Q off: "I get it, I'm leaving!"]
I will from hence to-day.
QUEEN. You know the peril.
[She counters by cutting him off. The danger is that he'll stick around too long, and maybe put up a fight. Maybe he'll WIN the fight. Maybe others will intervene on his behalf. But she can't just say "Get out!" That will make her look bad. She's calling attention to the obvious, saying "I don't have to remind you!"]

I'll [] fetch a turn [walk back and forth] about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections, [] though [even though] the King
Hath charg'd you should not speak together. Exit

[Here, she's "sacrificing herself" for the greater good. She's turning herself into a martyr. This is a great guilt tactic.]

IMOGEN. O dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,
{ I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing-
Always reserv'd my holy duty- what
His rage can do on me. }

{I somewhat fear my father's anger but (always respecting the deference I owe him) don't at all fear what his rage can do to me.}

You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes, not comforted to live
But that there is this jewel in the world
That I may see again.

[Imogen makes three points: (1) The queen is a good liar (but I'm not taken in by her); (2) though I'm a dutiful daughter, I'm not afraid of my father's punishments; (3) You go -- meanwhile I'll be able to handle all the abuse around here, by living with the hope I'll see you again.

She sets up a us-against-them world. They're strong, but I'm strong too. Her action here may be to plan the war, to share the war plans, to bolster the troops...]

POSTHUMUS. My queen! my mistress!
O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man. I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er [] plight troth [pledge faith as in engagement to marry];
My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter; thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall. [1. bile; oal-galls, used in making ink]

[First he comforts her; then he comforts himself. He guilts her into bucking up ("stop crying or you'll make me cry"), he reassures her (by pledging fidelity); he begs her (orders her?) to write.]

Re-enter QUEEN

QUEEN. Be brief, I pray you.
If the King come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure. { [Aside] Yet I'll [] move [prompt] him
To walk this way. [] I never do him wrong
But [whenever I do him wrong] he does [] buy my injuries [accept offenses], to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences. } Exit

{I'll prompt hims to walk this way. Whenever I do him wrong, he accepts my offenses as friends. He pays dearly for my offenses. ??? }

[Note that Q has barely given the lovers an time alone. She must be really pissed off that P is still there. So she's resorted to pleading: "Be brief, I pray you." She tries to bolster her plea with a guilt trip: "I'm the one who is going to get in trouble."

Then she talks to the audience. It's as if she's worried that she's gone too far -- that it won't just be P and I who are fooled. We (her confidants) will be fooled too. We'll worry about her. So she reassures us. She also blows her own trumpet by explaining how "in" she is with the King. Perhaps the actress should say the first bit to P and I and then say the second bit as if someone in the audience shouts out, "Oh my God! The King is going to KILL you!"]

POSTHUMUS. { Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The [] loathness [reluctance] to depart would grow. Adieu! }

{If we said goodbye for the rest of our lives, the reluctance to depart would grow. Farewell. }

[P tries to rip himself away. He flees. He puts a stop to things.]


IMOGEN. Nay, stay a little. [Short line -- a pause? Maybe a kiss?]
[] Were [even if] you but riding forth [] to air yourself [to get some fresh air],
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love:
This diamond was my mother's; take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.

[She guilts him into staying by chastising his lack of protocol: "Your goodbye wasn't good enough." She seduces him with a gift. She plants a seed of guilt should he ever stray.]

POSTHUMUS. How, how? Another? [He cuts her off.]
You gentle gods, give me but this I have, [He vows. He promises the gods!]
And [] sear up [seal -- wrap up like a corpse] my embracements from a next
With bonds of death! [] Remain, remain thou here [spoken to the ring]
[Puts on the ring]
While [] sense [ability to see or feel] can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest,
{ As I my poor self did exchange for you,
To your so infinite loss, so in our [] trifles [exchanges???]
I [] still [always] win of you. } For my sake wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner. [Puts a bracelet on her arm]

{ Since I exchanged my poor self for you, which was a huge loss for you (you being so valuable), so it seems in our exchanges, I am always the winner (and you the loser). }

[As much as he loves I, I think P has been trying to leave. But he's stuck. He's like a mom dropping her child off at preschool for the first time. He tries to leave, but the kid keeps crying, and it's killing him. He's finally realizes that his only chance to get out is to slow down and perform a sort of ceremony. He re-pledging himself to his wife before the Queen, the court and the gods. He's marrying her (again). He's making a solemn promise.]


IMOGEN. O the gods!
When shall we see again? [She's clinging. She's demanding.]

Enter CYMBELINE and LORDS

I always think it's fun to play the gods literally. P and I really believe the gods are in the room with them, and they're really talking to Jupiter, Athena or whoever.

Doing this is much more playable than vague prayers or oaths.

This is a scene in which the three characters are mostly talking past each other. Each wants something from the other. I wants P to stay. P wants to leave with his dignity intact (and with minimal cruelty). Q wants P out of there (without looking like the bad guy). They characters have such tunnel-vision for whatever they are trying to achieve, they barely seem to listen to each other.

There's a sense of immanent danger here. P and Q feel P MUST be gone before the King arrives. They lose.

It's interesting that the first characters in this scene, the two Gentlemen, are thwarted by Q, P and I entering. Q, P and I are similarly thwarted by Cymbeline entering. This whole scene is breathless, whispery and furtive.