All language subtitles for Cymbeline.2014

Man: My poor boy.

Look here, love.

This ring was my mother's.

Take it, heart.

But keep it till you woo another wife,
when Imogen is dead.

How?

How another? Give me but this.

I have.

Remain.

Remain thou here,
while sense can keep it on.

For my sake...

Wear this.

Thou basest thing,
avoid hence, from my sight.

If after this command thou fraught
the court with thy unworthiness,

thou diest.

Away.

Thou art poison to my blood.

Disloyal thing
that shouldst repair my youth,

thou heapst a year's age on me.

- I chose an eagle.
- Thou took'st a beggar,

wouldst have made
my throne a seat of baseness.

It is your fault
that I have loved posthumus.

You bred him as my playfellow.

What, art thou mad?

Hmm...

Almost.

Thou foolish thing.

They were again together.

You have not done
after our command.

Away with her and pen her up.

Leave us to ourselves,

and make yourself some comfort
out of your best advice.

Let her languish
a drop of blood a day,

and, being aged,
die of this folly.

No, be assured

you shall not find me,

after the slander
of most stepmothers,

evil-eyed unto you.

You are my prisoner,

but the jailer
shall deliver you the key.

That she should love
this fellow and refuse me.

She is damned.

Her brains and her beauty
go not together.

She shines not upon fools.

He hath been
your faithful servant.

I dare lay my honor
he will remain so.

I beseech you, be better
known to this gentleman,

whom I commend to you
as a noble friend of mine.

His father and I were
soldiers together.

Sir, we have known
each other in Orleans.

By your pardon, I was
then a young traveler.

But upon my mended judgment,
if I offend not to say it is mended,

my quarrel was not
altogether slight.

Can we with manners
ask what was the difference?

Safely, I think.
It was a contention in public.

Where each of us fell in praise
of our country mistresses,

this gentlemen
at that time vouching...

And upon warrant
of bloody affirmation...

His to be more fair,
virtuous, wise,

chaste, constant, quafified,

and less attemptable than any
of the rarest of the ladies in France.

That lady is not now living,

or that gentleman's opinion
by this worn out.

She holds her virtue still,
and I my mind.

If she went before
others I have seen,

as that diamond of yours
outlusters many I have beheld,

I could not but believe
she excelled many.

But I have not seen the most
precious diamond that is,

- nor you the lady.
- I praised her as I rated her.

- So do I my stone.
- What do you esteem it at?

More than the world enjoys.

Mm. Your mistress
is now either dead

or out-prized by a trifle.

You are mistaken.

The ring may be sold or given.

The other is not
a thing for sale,

and only a gift of the gods.

Which the gods have given you?

Posthumus: Which,
by their graces, I will keep.

You may wear her in title yours,

but you know strange fowl
light on neighboring ponds.

Let us leave here, gentleman.

Iachimo: No, no, no.

I dare pawn my estate
to your ring,

which in my opinion
overvalues it something.

But I make my wager rather
against your confidence

than her reputation.

What lady would
you choose to assail?

Yours, whom in constancy
you think so safe.

I lay ten thousand to your ring

that, commend me to the
court where your lady is,

with no more advantage than opportunity
for a second conference,

and I will take that honor
of hers from thence

which you imagine so reserved.

Even if you buy ladies'
flesh at a million a dram,

you cannot prevent it
from tainting.

I dare you to this match.
Here is my ring.

If I bring you no sufficient
testimony that I have enjoyed

the dearest bodily part
of your mistress,

my ten thousand are yours,
and so your ring.

Enough of this.
Let it die as it were born.

I embrace these conditions.
Let us have articles betwixt us.

Posthumus: If you
make your voyage upon her

and give to me directly
you have prevailed,

I am no further your enemy.
She is not worth the debate.

If she remains unseduced,
for your ill opinion

and the assault you have made
to her chastity...

You will answer my sword.

Your hand, a covenant.

Master doctor.

Have you brought those drugs?

Pleaseth your highness, ay.

Here they are, madam.

But I beseech your grace,
my conscience bids me ask,

wherefore you
have commanded of me

these most poisonous compounds,

which are the movers
of a languishing death,

but though slow, deadly.

I will test the forces
of these thy compounds

on such creatures as we
count not worth the hanging,

but none human.

No further service, doctor,
until I send for thee.

Good morrow to your majesty.

Ambassador's from Rome.

Caius Lucius.

A most worthy fellow.

Albeit he comes
on angry purpose now.

But that's no fault of his.

We must receive him according
to the honor of his sender.

Our dear son,
we will have need to employ you

towards this Roman.

Why should we pay tribute?

If Caesar can hide the sun
from us with a blanket

or put the moon in his pocket,

we will pay him tribute
for light.

Else, sir, no more tribute.

You must know,
till the injurious romans

did extort this tribute
from us, we were free.

Caesar's ambition,
which swelled so much

it almost stretched
the sides of the world,

against all color here
did put the yoke upon us,

which to shake off
becomes a warlike people.

Whom we reckon ourselves to be.

I am sorry, cymbeline,
that I am to pronounce

Augustus Caesar thine enemy.

Our subjects, sir,
will not endure his yoke,

and for ourself to show
less sovereignty than they

must needs appear UN-kinglike.

Receive it from me, then:
War and confusion.

Fury not to be resisted.

The event is yet
to name the winner.

Fare thee well.

We will nothing pay
for wearing our noses.

He goes hence frowning,

but it honors us that
we have given him cause.

Imogen: 0, that husband,

my supreme crown of grief.

Amy: A noble gentleman of Rome
comes from my lord with letters.

The worthy posthumus
is in safety

and greets your highness dearly.

Thanks, good sir.

You're kindly welcome.

- His health, beseech you?
- Well, madam.

Is he disposed to mirth?
I hope he is.

There's none a stranger there
so merry and so gamesome.

He is called the reveler.

When he was here
he did incline to sadness,

and ofttimes not knowing why.

I never saw him sad.

You look on me.

What wrack discern you
in me deserves your pity?

Lamentable.

- Why do you pity me?
- That others do.

I was about to say, enjoy...

But it is an office of the gods
to avenge it, not mine to speak on it.

You do seem
to know something of me,

or what concerns me.

Pray you, since
fearing things go ill

often hurts more
than to be sure they do,

for certainties are either past
remedies or timely knowing,

the remedy then born, just...

Discover to me what
you both spur and stop.

Had I this cheek
to bathe my lips upon;

this hand, whose touch,
whose every touch,

would force the feeler's
soul to the oath of loyalty;

this object which takes prisoner
the wild motions of mine eye,

and fixes it only here,
should I, damned then,

slaver with lips...

As common as stairs
that mount the capital,

it were fit all
the plagues of hell

should at one time
encounter such revolt.

O dearest soul,
thy cause doth strike

my heart with a pity
that makes me sick.

A lady, so fair,
and fastened to an empery

that would
the greatest king double,

to be partnered
with... with tomboys...

Diseased ventures

and such boiled stuff
as might well poison poison.

Be revenged,

or she that bore you
was no queen,

and you recoil
from your great stock.

Revenged?

How should I be revenged?

If this be true,
how should I be revenged?

I dedicate myself
to your sweet pleasure.

More noble than that
renegade from your bed.

And will continue fast to your
affection still close as sure.

Let me my service tender

on your lips.

I do condemn mine ears that
hath attended thee so long.

Pisanio.

The king my father shall be
made acquainted of thy assault.

And if he shall think it fit
a saucy stranger in his court

to expound his
beastly mind to us,

then he hath a court he little
cares for and a daughter

who he not respects at all.

Give me your pardon.

I... I spoke this to know

if your affiance
were deeply rooted,

and shall make your lord
that which he is, new o'er.

He is one
of the truest mannered,

he...

Such a holy witch

as might enchants
societies unto him.

Half all men's hearts are his.

He sits among men
like a descended god.

He hath a... a kind
of honor about him,

sets him off more
than a mortal seeming.

Be not angry,
most mighty Princess,

that I have adventured your
taking of a false report.

The love I bear him

made me to fan you thus.

But the gods made you,
unlike all the others.

Pray, your pardon.

All's well, sir.

Take my power
in the court of yours.

Uh, I had but...

I almost forgot, uh...

What is it?

Some dozen of us and your lord,

the best feather in our wing,

have mingled sums
to buy a present.

And I am somewhat curious
to have safe storage.

May it please you
to take it in protection?

For this night only.
I must aboard tomorrow.

Willingly.

J“ oh, the gentlemen
are talking I

I and the midnight moon
is on the riverside j“

j“ they're drinking up I

I and walking I

I and it is time I

j' for me to slide j'

j“ I live in another world I

j“ where life
and death are memorized j“

j“ where the earth is strung j“

I with lovers' pearls j“

I and all I see I

I are dark eyes I

I do not like her.

She doth think she has strange,

lingering poisons.

I do know her spirit,
and will not trust

one of her malice

I they tell me... I

with a drug
of such damned nature.

J“ where they stand
I'm sure it is j“

I but I feel nothing I

j' for their game I

j“ where beauty
goes unrecognized j“

j“ all I feel j“

j“ is heat and flame j“

I and all I see I

I are dark eyes I

J“ the French girl I

j“ she's in paradise j“

I and a drunken man j“

j“ is at the wheel I

j“ hunger pays j“

j“ a heavy price I

I to the fallen gods j“

j“ of speed and steel j“

j“ the time is short I

I and the days are sweet I

I and passion rules I

j' the arrow that flies j'

j' a million faces j'

I at my feet I

I but all I see I

I are dark I

j“ eyes I

Iachimo: The crickets sing,

and man's over-labored sense

repairs itself by rest.

Our tarquin thus

did softly press the rushes,

ere he wakened
the chastity he wounded.

How bravely thou becomest
thy bed, fresh Lily,

and whiter than the sheets,

that I might touch.

But kiss; One kiss.

Mmm...

But my design,

come off... come off...

On her left breast,
a mole cinque-spotted,

like the crimson drops
in the bottom of a cowslip:

Here's a voucher, stronger
than ever law could make:

This secret will force him
think I have pick'd the lock

and taken the treasure.

No more.

To what end?

I have enough.

I live in fear.

Though this a heavenly angel...

Hell is here.

I do think I saw it
this morning.

Confident I am.

Last night 'twas on mine arm.
I kissed it.

Twill not be lost.

Good morrow, fairest...

Sister. Your sweet hand.

Still I swearl love you.

I pray you, spare me.

I will unfold equal discourtesy
to your best kindness.

- To leave you in your madness...
- Stop!

'Twere my sin.

I shall not.

Fools cure not mad folks.

Your lady is one of the fairest
I have looked upon.

Foryou.

Was caius Lucius in the court
when you were there?

He was expected,
but not approached.

I'll make a journey twice as far
to enjoy a second night

of such sweet shortness
which was mine.

For the ring is won.

Your lady being so easy.

Uh, if you can make it apparent

that you have tasted her in bed,

my hand and ring are yours.

If not, the foul opinion
you had of her pure honor

gains or loses,
your sword or mine.

First, her bedchamber,

where I confess I slept not,

but profess had that

which was well worth watching.

Let it be granted
you have seen all this,

the description of
what is in her chamber

nothing saves
the wager you have laid.

See.

This must be married
to your diamond.

Let me behold it.

Is it that which
I left with her?

She gave it me,
she said she prized it once.

Maybe she plucked it off
to send to me.

She writes you so, doth she?

'Tis true.

Here.

Take this too.

It kills me to look on it.

Let there be no... honor

where semblance, truth,

where beauty, love,

where there's another man.
The vows of women...

Take your ring again.

'Tis not yet won.

It may be probable
that she has lost it

or, who knows,
if one of her women,

being corrupted,
hath stolen it from her.

Very true.

She would not lose it.

All of her attendants
are sworn and honorable.

They induced to steal it,
and by a stranger?

No!

He hath enjoyed her.

She hath bought the name
of whore thus dearly.

If you desire further
satisfaction,

under her breast,
worthy the pressing,

lies there a mole, right proud
of that most delicate lodging.

By my life I swear...

I kissed it,

and though full it gave me
present hunger to feed again.

Do you do remember
this stain upon her?

And it doth confirm
another stain

as big as hell can hold.

Shall you hear more?

0, that I had her here,

to tear her iimbmeal.

I will go there,

then do it in the court
before her father!

From posthumus.

"Jusfice
and your father's wrath,

should he take me
in his dominion,

could not be so cruel to me
as you, 0 dearest of creatures,

would even renew me
with your eyes.

Take notice that
I am at milford haven.

What your own love will out
of this advise you, follow.

So he wishes you all happiness,
that remains loyal to his vow,

and your increasing love."

O, for a horse with wings!

Hear'st thou?

He is at milford haven.

Read, and tell me how far it is.

And how may we steal from hence,
and for the gap and our return, to excuse.

But first, how get hence?

Speak. How many miles?

Twenty miles 'twixt
sun and sun, madam.

It's enough for you
and too much too.

Arviragus: We have seen nothing;
We are beastly.

Belarius: How you speak.

0 boys, this story
the world may read in me:

My body's marked
with Roman swords.

My report was once first
with the best of note:

Cymbeline loved me,

and when a soldier
was the theme,

my name was not far off:
Then was I as a tree.

Belarius: Villains,
whose false oaths prevailed

before my perfect honor,

swore to cymbeline I was
confederate with the romans:

O cymbeline! Heaven
and my conscience knows

thou didst unjustly banish me:

Whereon, at three and two years
old, istole these boys.

And this twenty years
this rock has been my world;

where I have lived
at honest freedom,

paid more pious debts to heaven

than in all
the fore-end of my time.

These boys know little
they are sons to the king;

nor cymbeline dreams
that they are alive.

They think they are mine; And
though trained up thus meanly

their thoughts do hit
the roofs of palaces.

Posthumus: O, vengeance,
vengeance.

Could I find out
the woman's part in me...

For there's no motion
that tends to vice in man,

but I affirm it
is the woman's part.

Be it lying, note it,

the woman 's; Flattering, hers;

deceiving, hers;

lust and rank thoughts,
hers, hers;

revenges, hers.

Ambitions, covetings,

change of prides, disdain,

slanders, mutability.

All faults that have
a name, hers.

Detest them,

curse them.

Where is posthumus?

What is in thy mind,
that thee stare thus?

Imogen: "Thy mistress hath played
the strumpet in my bed...

The testimonies whereof
lie bleeding in me.

I speak not out of weak surmise
but from proof as strong

as my grief and as certain
as I expect my revenge.

That part, thou, pisanio,

you must act for me."

"If thy faith be not tainted
with the breach of hers,

let thine own hand
take away her life.

If thou fear to strike and to make me
certain it is done,

thou art the pander
to her dishonor

and equally to me disloyal."

False to his bed?

What is it to be false?

To lie there in watch
and to think on him?

No... no, no. On my life.

Where's thy knife? Where?!

Thou art too slow to do thy master's
bidding when I desire it too.

Since I received command
to do this business,

I have not slept one wink.

Well, do it, and to bed, then.

I'll wake mine
eyeballs blind first.

Why?

Why has thou abused so many
miles with a pretense?

This place?
Bring me here to kill me?

But to win time.

I have considered a course.
Hear me. Hear me with Patience.

It cannot be but
that my master is abused.

Some villain, ay,
and singular in his art,

hath done you both this...
This cursed injury.

I'll give but notice
you are dead,

and send him
some bloody sign of it,

for 'tis commanded
I should do so.

You shall be missed at court,

and that will well confirm it.

Now, here's the point:

If you could wear a mind
dark as your fortune is,

forget to be a woman.

Change.

I see into thy end...

And am almost a man already.

This attempt... I am soldier to,

and will abide it
with a prince's courage.

From the queen.
What's in't is precious.

A dram of this will
drive away distemper.

We must take a short farewell
lest being missed,

I be suspected of your
carriage from the court.

Away, I prithee.

Where is our daughter?

Call her before us.

Since the exile of posthumus,

most retired hath her life been,

the cure whereof, my lord,
'tis time must do.

Where is she?

How can her contempt
be answered?

That man of hers, pisanio,
her old servant,

I have not seen these two days.

Go, look after.

Pisanio!

Come hither! Villain.

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.

Where is she?

I will not ask again.

This is the history of my
knowledge touching her flight.

Is she with posthumus?

As I think.

How long is't she went
to milford haven?

She can scarce be there yet.

Give me thy hand.

Hast any of thy master's
garments in thy possession?

The same suit he wore
when he took leave.

Fetch that suit hither.

Be a voluntary mute
to my design.

Go.

With the suit upon my back,

I will ravish her.

First, kill posthumus,

and in her eyes.

There shall she see my valor,

which will then be a torment

to her contempt.

Cloten: He on the ground,

my speech an insultment

ended on his dead body,

and once my lust hath dined,

which as isay to vex her

I will execute in the clothes
that she so praised.

To the court
I 'ii knock her back.

Who's there?

An angel here.
No elder than a boy.

Good masters, harm me not.

Before I entered here,
I thought to have begged

or bought what I took.

Here's money.

I would have left it on the board
as soon as I had made my meal

and parted with prayers
for the provider.

Money?

All gold and silver
rather turn to dirt.

As 'tis no better reckoned but
of those who worship dirty gods.

I see you're angry.

What's your name?

Fidel, sir.

Wither bound?

To milford haven.

'Tis almost night.

You shall have better cheer
ere you depart,

and thanks to sit and eat.

Boys, bid him welcome.

I'll love him as a brother.

J“ mmm, mmm j“

j“ mmm, yeah I

j“ mmm, mmm, mmm j“

j“ mmm, mmm j“

j“ mmm, mmm, yeah I

I it is youj'

j“ oh, yeah I

I it is you, you I

j“ oh, yeah I

I it is youj'

j“ oh, yeah I

j“ I say pressure drop
oh, pressure, oh yeah I

j“ pressure gonna drop on you I

j“ I say pressure drop
oh, pressure, oh yeah I

j“ pressure gonna drop on you I

j“ I say when it drops
oh, you're gonna feel it I

j“ pressure, pressure
pressure, pressure j“

j“ pressure drop oh, pressure j“

j“ oh, yeah
it's gonna drop on you j“

j“ yeah, yeah
pressure, pressure j“

j“ pressure, pressure,
pressure, pressure j“

j“ pressure, pressure,
pressure, pressure j“

j“ pressure, pressure,
pressure, pressure j“

j“ pressure, pressure,
pressure, pressure j“

j“ pressure gonna drop on you j“

j“ pressure, pressure,
pressure, pressure... j“

'Tis cloten,
the son o' the queen.

I fear some ambush.

Posthumus...

What's thy name?

I am son to the queen.

I am sorry for it,

not seeming
so worthy as thy birth.

Art not afeard?

Those that I reverence,
those I fear, the wise.

At fools I laugh, not fear them.

Die thy death!

Imogen: I am sick.

Heartsick.

Pisanio,
I'll now taste of thy drug.

What hast thou done?

With his own sword which
he did wave against my throat,

I have taken his head from him.

I'll throw it into the creek behind
our rock, and let it into the sea.

And tell the fishes
he's the queen's son.

He must have some attendants.

Well, 'tis done.

I do fear this body hath a tail
more perilous than the head.

Fidel!

Thou blessed thing.

Jove knows what man thou
might'st have made.

Why, he but sleeps.

Let us Bury him.

J“ fear no more j“

j“ the heat o' the sun j“

j“ nor the furious j“

j“ winter rages j“

j“ thou thy worldly task j“

j“ hast done j“

j“ home art gone j“

j“ and ta 'en thy wages j“

j“ golden lads and girls j“

j“ all must j“

j“ as chimney sweepers j“

j“ come to dust j“

Cymbeline: Imogen.

The prized part
of my comfort, gone,

my queen upon a desperate bed,

and in a time when
fearful wars point on me.

But for thee, fellow,

who needs must
know of her departure

and dost seem so ignorant.

I beseech your highness,

hold me your loyal servant.

Fu manchu: The day that she
went missing, he was here.

I dare be bound he's true,

and shall perform all parts
of his subjection onally.

The time is troublesome.

We'll slip you for a second.

But ourjealousy does yet depend.

Imogen: I hope I dream.

The dream's here still.

Imogen: Even when I wake,
it is without me as within me.

Not imagined... felt.

O posthumus!

Where is thy head?

Where's that?

Ay me, where's that?

And left this head on.

The king.

His daughter, whom he purposed
to his wife's sole son,

a widow that late he married...

Hath referred herself

to a poor but...
Worthy gentleman.

She's wedded,

her husband banished,
she imprisoned.

All is outward sorrow, though...

I think the king
be touched at very heart.

What's his name and birth?

His father was called sicilius,

who did join his honor
against the romans

and had, besides this gentleman
in question, two other sons,

who in the wars of the time,
died with their swords in hand.

For which their father,

then old and fond of issue,

took such sorrow
that he quit being.

And his gentle lady, big
of this gentleman our theme,

deceased as he was born.

The king...

He takes the babe
to his protection,

calls him posthumus leonatus.
Breeds him.

Puts to him all the [earnings that his
time could make him the receiver of,

which he took as we do air,
fast as 'twas ministered,

and in it's spring
became a harvest.

Lived in court,
which rare it is to do.

More praised, most loved.

To his mistress,
for whom he now is banished,

her own price proclaims
how she esteemed him.

And his virtue by her election

may be truly read
what kind of man he is.

A banished rascal.

Return he cannot,

nor continue where he is.

'Tis strange.

Your service
for this time is ended.

Take your own way.

Lucius: Be cheerful;
Wipe thine eyes.

Some falls are means
the happier to arise.

J“ after laughter j“

j“ comes tears j“

- j“ after laughter j“
- j“ after your laughter j“

- j“ comes tears j“
- j“ there 'ii be tears j“

j“oohj'

j“ when you're in love j“

j“ you're happy j“

j“ oh, and then j“

j“ when you're in an arm j“

j“ you gaze j“

J“ this doesn't last always j“

- j'after laughter j“
- j“ after your laughter j“

j“ there'll be tears j“

j“ my friends all say j“

- j“ don't... j“ - oh!

J“ know how I feel j“

Posthumus:
Is it enough I am sorry?

For Imogen's dear life,
take mine.

Sons.

We'll higher to the mountains,
there secure us.

To the king's party there's no going.
Newness of cloten's death...

It is not likely that they
will waste their time

upon our note,
to know from whence we are.

I am known.

I and my brother are not known.

I scarce ever look on blood but that
of hares, goats, and venison.

I am ashamed to look
upon the sun,

to feel the benefit
of his blest beams,

remaining so long
a poor unknown.

I'll go.
If you will bless me, sir,

and give me leave,
I'll take the better care.

So say I. Amen.

No reason I, since of your lives you set
so slight a valuation,

should reserve my
cracked one to more care.

Have with you, boys.

If in your country wars
you chance to die...

That is my bed, too, lads,

and there I'll lie.

Good my liege, your preparations can
affront no less than what you hear of.

Come more,
for more you're ready.

The want is but to put those powers
in motion that long to move.

He's alive.

A rout, confusion thick.

Forthwith they fly.

Great the slaughter; An old man and two
boys struck down some mortally,

some slightly touched, some
falling merely through fear.

An old man and two boys
are grown

the mortal bugs o' the field.

Sicilius: My poor boy...

Whose face I've never seen...

I died

whilst in the womb he stayed,

awaiting nature's law.

Whose father then...

As men report thou
orphans' father art,

thou shouldn't have been,

shielded him

from this earth-vexing smart.

"Of god we ask one favor,

that we may be forgiven...

From what,
he is presumed to know...

The crime, from us,

is hidden...

Immured the whole of life

within a magic prison."

Come sir,
are you ready for death?

I am merrier to die
than you are to live.

I tell thee, fellow,
there are none want eyes

to direct them where I am going,

but such as wink
and will not use them.

What an infinite mock is this,

that a man should
have the best use of eyes

to see the way of blindness.

Knock off his manacles.

Bring your prisoner to the king.

Posthumus: Every good servant
does not all commands:

No bond but to do just ones.

Gods.

If you should have ta 'en
vengeance on my faults,

I never had lived
to put on this:

So had you saved
Imogen and struck me,

wretch more worth
your vengeance.

For thee,

o Imogen,

even for whom my life
is every breath a death;

and thus, unknown,

pitied nor hated, to the face
of peril myself I'll dedicate.

Posthumus: Let me make men know
more valor in me than my habits show.

Gods, give me the strength

to shame the guise o' the world,
I will begin the fashion,

less without

and more within.

Stand by my side,

you whom the gods have made
preservers of my throne.

Knights of the battle,

I create you companions to our person...

And fit you with dignities
befitting your estates...

Why so sadly
greet you our victory?

Hail, great king.

To sour your happiness,
I must report the queen is dead.

No!

Cymbeline: How ended she?

Cornelius: With horror,
madly dying,

like her life, which,
being cruel to the world,

concluded most cruel to herself.

These her women were present
when she finished.

Cornelius: First, she confessed
she never loved you,

only affected greatness
got by you, not you;

married your royalty, wife to your place;
Abhorred your person.

She alone knew this.

Your daughter she did confess
was as a scorpion to her sight,

whose life,

but that her flight
prevented it,

she had ta'en off by poison.

Mine eyes were not in fault, for...

She was beautiful.

Mine ears,
that heard her flattery.

Nor my heart, that thought
her like her seeming.

It had been vicious
to have mistrusted her.

O my daughter.

That it was my folly,
thou mayst say.

The day was yours by accident.

Had it gone with us,
we should not,

when the blood was cool, have threatened
our prisoners with the sword.

But let it come.

Cymbeline: That diamond on your
finger, how came it yours?

By villainy I got this ring.

The good posthumus.
What can I say?

He were too good to be
where ill men were...

Cymbeline: Istand on fire.
Come to the matter.

Your daughter's chastity. Ow!
There it begins!

- Cymbeline: My daughter?
- I wagered with him

pieces of gold against
this which then he wore

upon his honored finger

to attain in suit
the place of his bed...

To win this ring by hers
and mine adultery.

At court, I learned
your chaste daughter

and the wide difference
'twixt villainous and amorous.

Yet... I returned
with proof enough

to make the noble posthumus mad.

Me, most credulous fool,

0, give me cord,
or knife, or poison.

I killed thy daughter.

Caused a lesser villain
than myself to do it.

Spit and throw stones,

cast mire upon me.

Imogen.

My queen, my wife.

- My life...
- Peace.

- O Imogen...
- My lord, hear.

Shall's have a play of this?

You never killed
Imogen... till now.

Get thee from my sight.
Thou gavest me poison.

I had it from the queen...

Cornelius: Oh gods.

I left out one thing
the queen confessed.

The queen, sir, very often
importuned me to, um,

temper potions for her,

still pretending the
satisfaction of her knowledge

only in killing creatures vile,
cats and dogs.

I, dreading that her purpose
was of more danger,

did compound for her
a certain stuff

which being ta'en would cease
the present power of life,

and in short time
all offices of nature

should do their due function.

Have you ta'en of it?

I must have, for I was dead.

Hang there like fruit, my soul,

till the tree die.

Cymbeline: Imogen.

Imogen: Your blessing, sir.

The queen's dead.

Imogen: I'm sorry for it.

She was naught.

Her son is gone,
we know not how.

Let me end the story.

I slew him.

He did provoke me.

I cut off his head and am right glad he is
not standing here to tell the tale.

Mighty sir, these two young
gentlemen that call me father

and think they are my sons
are none of mine.

They are the issue of your loins,
my liege, the blood of your begetting.

How?

I am belarius whom you banished.

These gentle princes,
for such and so they are,

these twenty years
have I trained up.

But here...

Here are your sons again,

and I must lose two of the sweetest
companions in the world.

Guiderius upon his neck
had a... a mole,

a sanguine star.

This is he.

Caius Lucius.

Although the Victor,

we submit to Caesar
and to the Roman empire...

Promising to pay
our wonted tribute,

from which we were dissuaded
by our wicked queen.

Pardon's the word to all.