Cymbeline

“IMOGEN. […] I chose an eagle,

And did avoid a puttock.”

Imogen’s assertion that Posthumus is an “eagle” symbolizes his nobility. It is fierce and flies high, suggesting his ferocity in battle and his rightful elevation. In Jacobean conceptions of “The Great Chain of Being” (a divinely ordained hierarchy of the universe), the eagle was seen as an elevated bird which only the noblest of people hunted with, outranking other birds of prey. In contrast, Imogen deems Cloten a “puttock,” which means a kite or buzzard, considered a lowlier bird. The word also had connotations of greed. Onomatopoeically, “puttock” sounds simple and clunky, like Cloten’s own name, further suggesting her low opinion of him. This image ties into The Influence of Nature Versus Nurture on Character by suggesting that Posthumus and Cloten’s characters are fundamentally different, like different animals. The eagle also foreshadows Posthumus’s banishment to Italy and his return alongside the Roman army, as the eagle was a symbol of Rome.

“I would have broke mine eyestrings, cracked them, but

To look upon him till the diminution

Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle.”

The phrase to “break one’s eyestrings” meant to go blind by straining one’s eyes, so Imogen suggests she would be willing to go blind just to see Posthumus for longer. This shows the all-consuming nature of her love and loyalty. Her description of his form growing smaller creates an image full of pathos, emphasizing the tragedy of their parting. The metaphor she chooses for his tiny form, her needle, evokes the idea of her remaining behind, sewing. Throughout this quotation she uses words with sharp and violent connotations, to indicate the intensity of her distress and the wrongness of their enforced separation: “[B]roke,” “cracked,” “pointed,” “sharp,” and “needle.”

“You are mistaken. The one may be sold or given, or if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift. The other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.”

Posthumus’s use of prose and short, blunt opening statement suggests that Iachimo is succeeding in provoking him. He subverts the symbolic weight of the ring as a love token (See: Symbols & Motifs) by emphasizing that it does not constitute Imogen herself, invoking the romantic trope that she is more valuable than anything. However, in his claim that Imogen is above human bartering or material concerns, he still frames her as a material possession, which could in theory change hands: She is a “gift” that is not for sale. Ultimately, he sees Imogen as his possession. The moral and emotional weight Posthumus places on her purity in this quotation creates the foundations for his enormous reaction to her apparent infidelity.

“All of her that is out of door, most rich!

If she be furnished with a mind so rare,

She is alone th’ Arabian bird.”

The phrase “out of door” refers to Imogen’s outward appearance, but also has a hint of crudeness, suggesting the parts of her body that are uncovered, exposed to air. This shows Iachimo’s indecent intentions towards her. He assumes that her outer beauty reflects her inner morality, a common notion in this period that invokes The Relationship Between Appearance and Reality: Both her mind and appearance are presented as objects she is “furnished” with rather than conceived of as a whole human. The “Arabian bird” refers to the phoenix, presenting Imogen as rare, mystical, beautiful, and powerful. This myth also foreshadows Imogen’s journey, moving through desperation, danger, and rejection into reconciliation and restoration.

“I pray you, sir,

Deliver with more openness your answers

To my demands. Why do you pity me?”

In this quotation Imogen draws attention to a dynamic throughout the scene: Her straightforwardness contrasts with Iachimo’s evasiveness. Her acknowledgement of this directly supports her complexity as a character, showing both her intelligence and naivety—she is shrewd enough to spot his evasiveness, but not enough to be wary of him. She falls into his trap, becoming curious and concerned about his “pity.” Her direct question is a device that not only reveals that he is manipulating her interest, but also gives the scene a more dramatic and sophisticated structure: Rather than Iachimo simply volunteering information, he coaxes her into requesting it in a back-and-forth dialogue.

“That such a crafty devil as is his mother

Should yield the world this ass!”

This quotation explores The Influence of Nature Versus Nurture on Character, suggesting a base assumption that people inherit traits, but acknowledging that this does not always seem to be the case or cannot always be understood. Though both are presented as villains, the Second Lord comically highlights the contrast between Cloten and the Queen to emphasize their juxtaposing traits. The Lord uses the slang word “ass” to give his assessment of Cloten a light-hearted, dismissive tone, reflecting that his role veers into comic relief at moments due to his foolishness and clumsiness. However, the Queen is presented as a true threat, as she is clever and malicious like a “devil.” This plays into an early modern fear of female knowledge, which was often associated with witchcraft or the devil.

“The flame o’ th’ taper

Bows toward her and would underpeep her lids

To see th’ enclosèd lights, now canopied

Under these windows, white and azure-laced

With blue of heaven’s own tinct.”

Iachimo’s description of the taper creates atmosphere, evoking a dimly lit bedchamber at night. He personifies the flame as leaning towards Imogen intentionally, to suggest that she is so beautiful, even an inanimate candle wants to be close to her. The word “bows” implies deference. Specifically, this image plays into an early modern notion that light attracts light: Iachimo suggests her eyes are so bright that the flame wants to see them. In describing her eyelids as “windows,” Iachimo references a popular literary metaphor of the body as a building, framing Imogen’s body as a precious and beautiful commodity that houses a bright spirit. The language he uses has connotations of something covered or closed, which can be opened: “underpeep,” “enclosèd,” “canopied” and “windows,” highlighting his invasion of Imogen’s privacy.

“Last night ‘twas on mine arm; I kissed it.

I hope it be not gone to tell my lord

That I kiss aught but he.”

In this quotation the bracelet functions as a symbol of or extension of Posthumus (See: Symbols & Motifs)—Imogen has kissed it to express her affection for him. Wearing it even in sleep indicates her unwavering loyalty. However, the fact she has now lost it suggests that Iachimo’s actions have already won him the wager, causing her to lose Posthumus; though this hasn’t unfolded yet, this is marked as a fateful moment. Her words are laced with dramatic irony: She jokes that the bracelet might tell on her that she has kissed it, rather than Posthumus himself. However, she is unaware of her words’ double meaning, which the audience can recognize: the bracelet has indeed been taken to convince Posthumus that she is kissing “aught but he,” but another man rather than the bracelet itself. Her joke foreshadows the result of the wager and invokes The Complexities of Honor in Love and War.

“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.”

Posthumus’s declaration that all vices are inherently female ties into many Christian readings of original sin, in which Eve is responsible for the fall of mankind, and women therefore carry a responsibility for vice. His immediate vilification of not just Imogen but all women shows the depths of his rage and also reflects the play’s gendered understanding of the value of Imogen’s chastity, and therefore the weight of breaking it. However, Posthumus’s assertions carry a dramatic irony, as the audience is aware that Imogen is innocent, so his conclusions are built on a false premise. In fact the sins he lists have all been recently embodied onstage by Iachimo, Cloten, and Posthumus himself—all men. This speech forms part of Posthumus’s becoming consumed by his wish for revenge, in which he decides to kill Imogen, so his assertion that revenge is a feminine vice suggests his hypocrisy and lack of critical self-awareness.

“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.”

Cloten’s suggestion that Caesar is not as great as his legendary status, but is only human, closely echoes Cassius’s arguments to Brutus in Julius Caesar, I.2. Cloten uses large-scale imagery of the sun and the moon, associated with the heavens and with greater powers, which he juxtaposes against the mundane daily items of a blanket and a pocket. His rhetorical suggestion of patently impossible tasks that Caesar could not perform emphasizes his fallible humanity. However, Cloten’s arguments are briefer and less complex than Cassius’s; he uses prose and simple imagery, which contrasts with the Queen and Cymbeline’s arguments. Unlike them, his arguments revolve around personal criticisms of Caesar, suggesting he is a crude debater not well-suited to diplomacy.

“This gate

Instructs you how t’ adore the heavens and bows you

To a morning’s holy office. The gates of monarchs

Are arched so high that giants may jet through

And keep their impious turbans on.”

Belarius’s instructions give insight into how he has raised Guiderius and Arviragus, and how he frames their existence. He expresses values of humility, worship, and asceticism, and suggests that they are laced through the daily reality of their mountain life: The physical action of leaving the cave is also a bow to the heavens. He contrasts this against the depiction of the court, suggesting a world of grandeur and wealth in which men are “giants,” reflecting their self-importance and lack of humility. His description of “impious turbans” suggests these courtly figures are estranged from true religion; it plays into a European, Christian rejection of the “other” and a stereotype of non-Christian material cultures as decadent, in contrast to their asceticism.

“False to his bed? What is it to be false?

To lie in watch there and to think on him?

To weep ‘twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature,

To break it with a fearful dream of him

And cry myself awake? That’s false to ‘s bed, is it?”

Imogen uses rhetorical questions to express her indignance and disbelief, presenting Posthumus’s accusation as ridiculous and unfathomable. She asks these questions rapidly in a row, beginning some of them with “To” and abandoning proper syntax to make them part of one long, building thought-train. This expresses her confused and dismayed mindset. She finishes by returning to her original question, using “is it?” as a colloquial challenge prompting a reply; this highlights that her statements have not been able to supply a reply. She is more upset in this moment about the accusation of falsehood than the murder threat, showing the importance of her chastity to her and The Complexities of Honor in Love and War.

“Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,

And, for I am richer than to hang by th’ walls,

I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O,

Men’s vows are women’s traitors!”

“Stale” was an early modern term generally used to refer to a woman whose lover has become tired of her or moved on, with connotations of decay. Imogen’s comparison of herself to a garment shows how shallow she thinks Posthumus’s attachment was—like a piece of clothing, she is an object to be adopted temporarily. Her analogy that she is too rich to “hang by th’ walls” suggests that she is too high-status to just put to one side like a wall-hanging, which is why he must instead destroy her. The words “ripped” and “to pieces” both lean further into this metaphor of fabric and suggest the violence Posthumus wants to do to her. The violent imagery also suggests her emotional state. Her last line echoes Posthumus in II.4: She too extrapolates from her personal intense distress to a universally gendered idea of betrayal.

“Would it had been so, that they

Had been my father’s sons! Then had my prize

Been less, and so more equal ballasting

To thee, Posthumus.”

Imogen’s wish that Guiderius and Arviragus could be her brothers uses humorous dramatic irony, as the audience knows they really are. Her sentiment shows the instinctive nature of the affection they have for each other, suggesting their familial relationship is fundamental and goes beyond upbringing or conscious identity. The word “ballasting” is a seafaring metaphor referring to heavy weight used to stabilize a ship from tipping off-balance: She wishes her and Posthumus’s fortunes could be balanced, allowing them to sail a steady, predictable course in their relationship. He is her priority even after ordering her death, and she places ultimate blame on the social constraints dividing them, showing the depths of her loyalty to him.

“This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse;

There was no money in ‘t. Not Hercules

Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none.”

Guiderius uses the metaphor of “an empty purse” to suggest that Cloten may put on an air of substance and worth, but he is actually empty, reflecting The Relationship Between Appearance and Reality. The purse fits with the play’s general interest in garments, and Cloten’s special fixation on Posthumus’s (See: Symbols & Motifs): Whereas Posthumus’s clothes in themselves have enough substance to convince Imogen of his identity, Cloten is presented as an insubstantial failure. Guiderius’s joke about the powerful hero Hercules highlights that he has beaten him in a physical fight, but also asserts his intellectual superiority.

“The ground that gave them first has them again.

Their pleasures here are past; so is their pain.”

The idea of the bodies returning to the ground evokes the Biblical language of Genesis, about humans returning to dust, giving their funeral rites greater solemnity in the eyes of a Christian early modern audience. The alliteration of the “p” sound in the second line ties the contrasting ideas of pleasure and pain together under the overarching umbrella of the past, emphasizing that they are all one now. The use of a rhyming couplet creates a sense of the formality of funeral rites, and rhythmically closes the thought, echoing the finality of death.

“The dream’s here still. Even when I wake it is

Without me as within me, not imagined, felt.

A headless man? The garments of Posthumus?”

Imogen’s assertion that her dream is still present after she wakes blurs the lines of reality and illusion—she confidently states that she feels it rather than imagines it, presenting a counter-argument to what a listener might say. The phrases “without me” and “within me” repeat the same sounds but juxtapose the meanings, again blurring the line of what is real and stressing how true her dream feels. The idea that the environment mirrors her inner state feeds the next moment, in which her internal horror matches the external horror of the corpse. Her rhetorical questions emphasize the horror of being alone with the corpse: There is no one there to answer. The scene is tinged with dramatic irony, as it is not really Posthumus, although the clothing misleads her (See: Symbols & Motifs).

“I saw Jove’s bird, the Roman eagle, winged

From the spongy south to this part of the west,

There vanished in the sunbeams, which portends—

Unless my sins abuse my divination—

Success to th’ Roman host.”

Prophecies form an important motif in the play (See: Symbols & Motifs). Here, the Roman Soothsayer’s interpretation of this vision assumes that “the Roman Eagle” is blessed by Jove, a name for Jupiter, the king of the gods in the Roman pantheon. However, this is subverted later in the play when Jupiter appears onstage to bless Posthumus, who has fought bravely for the British. There is ironic humor in the soothsayer’s statement that unless his “sins” are tainting his powers, his vision portends Roman victory: When the Romans are defeated and he is forced to change his interpretation, this hints that his conjecture is in fact true. This implies a disconnect from true spirituality or religion, perhaps reflecting an early modern Christian framing of Roman ambition as material and irreligious.

“If in your country wars you chance to die,

That is my bed, too, lads, and there I’ll lie.”

The use of a rhyming couplet evokes the finality of death. It also has a rousing tone thanks to its assertive rhythm and rhyme, reflecting Belarius’s resolve to die together with his wards. His sentiment reflects his loyalty to them, and foreshadows the way their fearlessness inspires others on the battlefield. His use of the informal word “lads” suggests familiarity and affection, reflecting his role as a father figure to them.

“Gods, if you

Should have ta’en vengeance on my faults, I never

Had lived to put on this.”

Throughout Cymbeline characters evoke the “Gods” as a collective, reflecting the play’s pre-Christian pagan setting. Posthumus’s exhortation to them expresses his heightened emotions. In his awareness of his own sins, Posthumus acknowledges his hypocrisy in making himself the judge and executioner of Imogen’s apparent sins. This echoes common phrase “let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” derived from the Bible, John 8:7. Posthumus’s acknowledgement of his own flaws is a vital part of his redemption arc.

“I have belied a lady,

The Princess of this country, and the air on ‘t

Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl,

A very drudge of nature’s, have subdued me

In my profession?”

Iachimo equates Imogen with Britain itself, a running parallel throughout the play. He personifies Britain as a place which has its own sense of justice and seeks to define its identity, using its air to do so. This recalls the Queen’s portrayal of The Nature of British Identity in Act III, Scene 1, as a kingdom divinely protecting itself with seas and weather. Through Iachimo’s response of fear and guilt, Shakespeare presents a patriotic idea of British identity in which the lowliest soldier is able to nobly fight those who wrong it.

“[T]he strait pass was dammed

With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living

To die with lengthened shame.”

Posthumus paints a graphic image of a narrow path blocked with dead bodies; his use of a list in the middle of this sentence evokes the corpses piled one on top of another. The word “dammed” is a homophone of “damned,” which adds to the hell-like image of battlefield, but also ties into Posthumus’s judgement of those he deems cowards: He sees this as a sin that will send them to hell, invoking The Complexities of Honor in Love and War. The juxtaposition of the “cowards living” whilst having a longer death suggests that their bodies live while a part of themselves, their honor, dies. It also ties into the Christian understanding of damnation as the triumph of death as opposed to eternal life.

“A book? O rare one,

Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

Nobler than that it covers.”

Posthumus initially uses monosyllables, and his rhetorical question is followed by the exclamation, “O.” This indicates his surprise as he tries to understand how the book has appeared and what it is. The word “fangled” means characterized with flaws and strange embellishments, so Posthumus expresses a disenchantment with the world. He uses the imagery of garments, which recur throughout the play, to explore the idea of a book’s cover being deceptive, like clothes, tying into The Relationship Between Appearance and Reality. He uses this metaphor to suggest that the world has seemed a rich and promising place, but is actually full of disappointments.