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Translated Text |
Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
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Enter Imogen alone. IMOGEN A father cruel and a stepdame false, A foolish suitor to a wedded lady That hath her husband banished. O, that husband, My supreme crown of grief and those repeated Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol’n, 5 As my two brothers, happy; but most miserable Is the desire that’s glorious. Blessed be those, How mean soe’er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie! | Imogen sits alone in her room and feels sorry for herself. For those keeping track, she has a cruel dad, a fake stepmother, a foolish suitor, and a banished husband. Her life sucks. |
Enter Pisanio and Iachimo. PISANIO Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome 10 Comes from my lord with letters. IACHIMO Change you, madam? The worthy Leonatus is in safety And greets your Highness dearly. 15 He gives her a letter. IMOGEN Thanks, good sir. You’re kindly welcome. | Pisanio enters with Iachimo—and, more importantly, with a letter from her beloved Posthumus.
Imogen is excited to get the letter and welcomes Iachimo for bringing it. |
IACHIMO, aside 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, and I 20 Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend. Arm me, audacity, from head to foot, Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight— Rather, directly fly. | Iachimo is floored by Imogen's hotness. He didn't see that coming; in fact, he's worried that if this woman is as smart as she is pretty, he'll lose the bet. |
IMOGEN reads: He is one of the noblest note, to whose 25 kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly as you value your trust. Leonatus. So far I read aloud. But even the very middle of my heart 30 Is warmed by th’ rest and takes it thankfully.— You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I Have words to bid you, and shall find it so In all that I can do. IACHIMO Thanks, fairest lady.— 35 What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes To see this vaulted arch and the rich crop Of sea and land, which can distinguish ’twixt The fiery orbs above and the twinned stones Upon the numbered beach, and can we not 40 Partition make with spectacles so precious ’Twixt fair and foul? IMOGEN What makes your admiration? IACHIMO It cannot be i’ th’ eye, for apes and monkeys ’Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and 45 Contemn with mows the other; nor i’ th’ judgment, For idiots in this case of favor would Be wisely definite; nor i’ th’ appetite— Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed Should make desire vomit emptiness, 50 Not so allured to feed. IMOGEN What is the matter, trow? IACHIMO The cloyèd will, That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub Both filled and running, ravening first the lamb, 55 Longs after for the garbage. IMOGEN What, dear sir, Thus raps you? Are you well? IACHIMO Thanks, madam, well. (To Pisanio.) Beseech you, sir, 60 Desire my man’s abode where I did leave him. He’s strange and peevish. PISANIO I was going, sir, To give him welcome. He exits. | But Iachimo doesn't give up that easily. He compliments Imogen, but she doesn't seem to care, so he sends Pisanio away to tend to his own servant. Iachimo figures that if he's alone with Imogen, he can entice her. |
IMOGEN Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you? 65 IACHIMO Well, madam. IMOGEN Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. IACHIMO Exceeding pleasant. None a stranger there So merry and so gamesome. He is called The Briton Reveler. 70 IMOGEN When he was here He did incline to sadness, and ofttimes Not knowing why. IACHIMO I never saw him sad. There is a Frenchman his companion, one 75 An eminent monsieur that, it seems, much loves A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton— Your lord, I mean—laughs from ’s free lungs, cries “O, Can my sides hold to think that man who knows 80 By history, report, or his own proof What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose But must be, will ’s free hours languish for Assurèd bondage?” IMOGEN Will my lord say so? 85 IACHIMO Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter. It is a recreation to be by And hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens know Some men are much to blame. 90 IMOGEN Not he, I hope. IACHIMO Not he—but yet heaven’s bounty towards him might Be used more thankfully. In himself ’tis much; In you, which I account his, beyond all talents. Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound 95 To pity too. IMOGEN What do you pity, sir? IACHIMO Two creatures heartily. IMOGEN Am I one, sir? You look on me. What wrack discern you in me 100 Deserves your pity? IACHIMO Lamentable! What, To hide me from the radiant sun and solace I’ th’ dungeon by a snuff? IMOGEN I pray you, sir, 105 Deliver with more openness your answers To my demands. Why do you pity me? IACHIMO That others do— I was about to say, enjoy your—but It is an office of the gods to venge it, 110 Not mine to speak on ’t. IMOGEN You do seem to know Something of me or what concerns me. Pray you, Since doubting things go ill often hurts more Than to be sure they do—for certainties 115 Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, The remedy then born—discover to me What both you spur and stop. IACHIMO Had I this cheek To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, 120 Whose every touch, would force the feeler’s soul To th’ oath of loyalty; this object which Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, Fixing it only here; should I, damned then, Slaver with lips as common as the stairs 125 That mount the Capitol, join gripes with hands Made hard with hourly falsehood—falsehood as With labor; then by-peeping in an eye Base and illustrous as the smoky light That’s fed with stinking tallow; it were fit 130 That all the plagues of hell should at one time Encounter such revolt. IMOGEN My lord, I fear, Has forgot Britain. IACHIMO And himself. Not I, 135 Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce The beggary of his change, but ’tis your graces That from my mutest conscience to my tongue Charms this report out. | Imogen asks about Posthumus. She wants to know about his health and his demeanor, and she wants to know how he's holding up in exile.
Iachimo's all like, "Oh, he's holding up all right. And then some." He says Posthumus isn't sad at all; in fact, he's having loads of fun... a little too much fun with the ladies, if you catch his drift. |
IMOGEN Let me hear no more. 140 IACHIMO O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart With pity that doth make me sick. A lady So fair, and fastened to an empery Would make the great’st king double, to be partnered With tomboys hired with that self exhibition 145 Which your own coffers yield, with diseased ventures That play with all infirmities for gold Which rottenness can lend nature; such boiled stuff As well might poison poison. Be revenged, Or she that bore you was no queen, and you 150 Recoil from your great stock. | Imogen doesn't believe it at first, but then she feels sad and tells Iachimo to stop. She doesn't want to hear any more.
This is exactly what Iachimo wants. He tells the princess she should get back at her husband for forgetting about her so quickly. |
IMOGEN Revenged? How should I be revenged? If this be true— As I have such a heart that both mine ears Must not in haste abuse—if it be true, 155 How should I be revenged? IACHIMO Should he make me Live like Diana’s priest betwixt cold sheets, Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps, In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it. 160 I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, More noble than that runagate to your bed, And will continue fast to your affection, Still close as sure. | Imogen doesn't follow. How's she going to get her revenge? Iachimo is more direct this time. He tells Imogen that he dedicates himself making her feel good—in other words, he'll sacrifice himself so that she can get back at Posthumus in the cruelest way. How noble of him. |
IMOGEN What ho, Pisanio! 165 IACHIMO Let me my service tender on your lips. IMOGEN Away! I do condemn mine ears that have So long attended thee. If thou wert honorable, Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not For such an end thou seek’st, as base as strange. 170 Thou wrong’st a gentleman who is as far From thy report as thou from honor, and Solicits here a lady that disdains Thee and the devil alike.—What ho, Pisanio!— The King my father shall be made acquainted 175 Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit A saucy stranger in his court to mart As in a Romish stew and to expound His beastly mind to us, he hath a court He little cares for and a daughter who 180 He not respects at all.—What ho, Pisanio! | Imogen is horrified. She calls Iachimo out on his schemes to sleep with her. He's not honorable at all: he's kind of a creep, she says, and she condemns him. Boo-ya. |
IACHIMO O happy Leonatus! I may say The credit that thy lady hath of thee Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness Her assured credit.—Blessèd live you long, 185 A lady to the worthiest sir that ever Country called his; and you his mistress, only For the most worthiest fit. Give me your pardon. I have spoke this to know if your affiance Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord 190 That which he is, new o’er; and he is one The truest mannered, such a holy witch That he enchants societies into him. Half all men’s hearts are his. IMOGEN You make amends. 195 IACHIMO He sits ’mongst men like a descended god. He hath a kind of honor sets him off More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, Most mighty princess, that I have adventured To try your taking of a false report, which hath 200 Honored with confirmation your great judgment In the election of a sir so rare, Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you, Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon. 205 | There's nothing left for Iachimo to do but agree with Imogen: he tells her she is the most virtuous woman he's ever met. Oh, and that whole ruse to get her into bed? That was a test, of course. He was trying to seduce her to see if she was honest. Right.
Luckily, Iachimo says, Imogen passed the test. |
IMOGEN All’s well, sir. Take my power i’ th’ court for yours. IACHIMO My humble thanks. I had almost forgot T’ entreat your Grace but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concerns. Your lord, myself, and other noble friends 210 Are partners in the business. IMOGEN Pray, what is ’t? IACHIMO Some dozen Romans of us and your lord— The best feather of our wing—have mingled sums To buy a present for the Emperor; 215 Which I, the factor for the rest, have done In France. ’Tis plate of rare device and jewels Of rich and exquisite form, their values great. And I am something curious, being strange, To have them in safe stowage. May it please you 220 To take them in protection? | Imogen finally accepts the apology, after loads of excessive begging from Iachimo. Iachimo tells Imogen that he is in business with her husband and a bunch of other men. Together, he says, they've pooled their money to buy some lavish gifts for the emperor. There's just one problem: they need somewhere safe to store them. |
IMOGEN Willingly; And pawn mine honor for their safety. Since My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them In my bedchamber. 225 IACHIMO They are in a trunk Attended by my men. I will make bold To send them to you, only for this night. I must aboard tomorrow. IMOGEN O no, no. 230 IACHIMO Yes, I beseech, or I shall short my word By length’ning my return. From Gallia I crossed the seas on purpose and on promise To see your Grace. IMOGEN I thank you for your pains. 235 But not away tomorrow. IACHIMO O, I must, madam. Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please To greet your lord with writing, do ’t tonight. I have outstood my time, which is material 240 To th’ tender of our present. IMOGEN I will write. Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept And truly yielded you. You’re very welcome. They exit. | Imogen says she'll take care of them. Iachimo is relieved. The gifts are in a trunk, and he's worried that the jewels are so valuable that people will want to steal them. Imogen tells Iachimo not to worry: she won't let the trunk out of her sight. In fact, she'll store the trunk in her bedchamber so that no one else can touch it. Iachimo thinks this is an excellent idea. We're not exactly sure what the whole trunk business is about, since we know Posthumus and Iachimo haven't bought any grand gifts for the emperor. What we are sure of is that Iachimo is up to something.
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