Mything the Point: Cymbeline
Before we breach into the bulk the coming pages, we must first narrow the playing field. William Shakespeare is the author, a master of interpretation, impersonation, and the imagination. To be precise, we’re going to peruse into his final act of the revelation-of-a-romance Cymbeline. Cymbeline is not typically heralded for its characters if we’re comparing them to Hamlet, Falstaff, or Lear but its story construction is just too damn good. I’m no expert (unless you give me expertise credit for this classical commentary) but if you took the final act out then the play would still flourish. The irony and wordplay in the characters’ dialogue and their obliviousness to it all is jolly fun. The first two characters in the play are known anonymously, and few people from then on are truly in character or when they’re on stage. Shakespeare has written these characters to sometimes know who they are and at the same time have no idea, until…It’s only fitting that the pretext and proceedings of Act V: Scene V provides a prime finale. Our focus will be concerned not with mything the point but the fact that these characters are missing the point.
“She (Imogen) is not in fact possessed of much discernment. She fails utterly to see through Iachimo, fails to suspect the medications that Pisanio gives her as from the queen, and thinks, when she mistakes the headless body of Cloten for that of Posthumous, that Cloten and Pisanio have conspired to commit the murder—though she has no reason to suppose that Cloten is anywhere in the vicinity” (Adams, 65). I say, well articulated Robert Adams, but I have something to add: this point has lead me to conclude that it was Shakespeare’s intention for the characters in Cymbeline to have trouble with physical identification of others or discernment. This is a method of Shakespeare’s mastery of impersonation and, in doing so, suspending his audiences’ disbelief. It’s not until the final scene that they, family member or not, are all together defaced. On a different note, many believe, and I’m one of ‘em, that Cloten is Posthumous’ alter-ego. This theory is cogent because they do not have any scenes together along with their similar temperaments and objectives. For example, they both desire Imogen but they both have a tendency to show signs of anger, hatred, or more specifically misogyny.
Secondly, before we breach into the bulk the coming pages, we must first have some quick notes about the mythology of the matter. Many of the character from Shakespeare’s Cymbeline are adaptations from other pieces [as are most of his characters in most of his pieces]; they commonly mirror mythological figures from Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Virgil’s Aeneid, for instance. Cymbeline, one of his final works, follows a similar referential pattern. For example, Imogen corresponds with the goddess Diana because of her chastity, and also is loose retelling of the character Philomel from Ovid’s Metamorphoses’ story of “Tereus, Procne, and Philomel.” Additionally, Philomel is relatable to Lucrece as Tereus is to Tarquinius, from “The Rape of Lucrece.” Therefore, Imogen and Cloten symbols of Lucrece and Tarquinius, and that’s only a taste of the play’s mythological analogies. With all this said, we’ve scratched the surface of Shakespeare’s interpretation skills, but our future business will shy away from Shakespeare’s interpretation ability and rather bear with his exemplary impersonation ability, which is a far more prevalent theme in Cymbeline.
There is a reoccurring theme of characters masking themselves, and the characters’ varying motives for doing so. In Act V of the play nearly all of the primary characters are “masked” in one way or another (Posthumous is constantly flip-flopping side and changing his characters’ nuances leading up to the final scene); and there’s a conscious mask, an unconscious mask, and even the aforementioned coincidentally in some characters’ cases. Remember, we aren’t even concerning the mythological allusions and their resonance at this point, we are more concerned with physical appearance (however slight) and stage direction. For example and it’s a hint for the deus ex machina, Guiderius and Arviragus are playing themselves at this point but they still don’t know who they truly are, the fruit of their loins that is; they are masked with twenty years’ age without knowing so. Then Belarius, whom I believe to be the slyest, sharpest, and smartest character, drops a bombshell of wisdom. The fifth act is incredibly rich in fleshing out the play and its characters; you can piece together the prior plot from the fifth scene alone because of its dialogue density and mise en scene.
What’s happening is that everybody’s been called to King Cymbeline’s tent. The Romans have been defeated, and the King has been saved by many of the masked personnel consisting of Morgan, Polydore, Cadwal, Fidele, and a haggard man once mistaken for a Roman. That’s Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, Imogen, and Posthumous, in that order.
Now, after all that, we can enter the Act V: Scene V:
Cymbeline enters and reflects right after recalling Posthumous’ execution; “Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made/ Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart/ That poor soldier, that so richly fought,/ Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast” (1095). This shows Cymbeline’s lack of discernment when he believes his knowledge of the matter to be quite palpable. By speaking of the raggedy Posthumous as naked or seeing one for who they really are Cymbeline is wrong at this point in the scene. Cymbeline is ready to award those who are noble and honorable (Morgan, Polydore, and Cadwal) until he is abruptly informed that his wife, the Queen, had previously conspired against (i.e. poisoned) his daughter Imogen and has recently taken her own life, and that, in the words of Cornelius, “she confest she never loved you; only/ Affected greatness got by you”. He begins to bereave his daughter, but then the rest of the living lot enters including Posthumous (still masked), Fidele, and Iachimo as well as some other smaller characters. That’s a total of five people who aren’t yet naked to the King. Also, this is where the domino effect is beginning to teeter. Ironically as the King begins to dwell on the bad news as Fidele enters the room. Morgan takes immediate notice of this because the three cave-dwellers had previously thought the ‘page’ had passed away. Though neither of the three step up because they believe their eyes might be deceiving them or that this is about to get good. It does; Fidele notices the ring on Iachimo’s finger which looked strikingly familiar to Posthumous’. Already having been captured, Iachimo is the first to unveil his lies and he believes Posthumous to be long gone. Iachimo is a prisoner of war, feels a sense of guilt inside, and has that ‘I’ve got nothin’ left to lose’ mentality. He had cheated on his bet with Posthumous in obtaining Imogen’s bracelet and inheriting Posthumous’ ring; he used the “bed trick” but failed with the bedding. With that tidbit of gossip now out, Posthumous steps up because he cannot control his emotions screaming for justice and desire for his wife, Imogen. He, I mean she, Fidele then steps up to calm him, but she is disguised as a teenage boy. These two are lovers for crying out loud, and neither of them recognizes one another! In fact, each of them believes the other to be dead. Imogen had lead herself to believe that Posthumous was the beheaded body because of the garments’ evidence, but it was just Cloten. Whereas, Posthumous had denounced womankind for Imogen’s alleged fling with Iachimo and had conspired to kill his wife. It turns out, nothing really went as planned, and here we find ourselves. Fidele steps up and is struck by Posthumous out of irate, emotional reflex. When he next shows signs of life, he is not a he anymore. The fidelity-filled Fidele is revealed as the chaste Imogen, who admits to have drunken the “poison.” Belarius says, “My boys,/There was our error” (1098). Now the three cave-dwellers know that Fidele never died, and that he is a she. Here, Cymbeline and Posthumous are overjoyed and they both forgive Imogen for their imprudence. The story really rounds out into the genre of a romance hereafter. Furthermore, this is not only a romance between a guy and a girl; this is a story of a bringing all the loved ones in the family together in one way or another. Currently, Imogen knows that the beheaded body from the forest was that of Cloten, who was the heir (though not ideal) apparent to the throne. In this government’s eye, someone has to pay the price. Polydore steps up and admits to his actions and argues his case in a quaint fashion, “A most uncivil one (prince): the wrongs he did me/ Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me”; Polydore tends to express the prudence of a prince far more than his adversary, although what follows is his condemnation. Lastly, Morgan must step up because he is the banished beholder of the biggest secret, and he sets everything straight. He provides the King with a happy ending, two more royal, rightful heirs with physical proof. Morgan brings forth with him Cadwal, soon to be recognized as Arviragus, to join Polydore, and he confesses that their identities aren’t as they appear. He proclaims that he was exiled by Cymbeline himself nearly twenty years previous, and that’s when he nabbed the two princes. His proof: Guiderius, once Polydore, has a distinctive mole upon his neck as Imogen, his evident sister, does under her breast. This is a sign the King hadn’t forgotten. Guiderius is immediately pardoned and they reunited family embraces one another. The masks are off. Because of this final revelation everything falls into place; the two worst-hearted characters, the Queen and Cloten, are dead, the King will sustain the integrity of the royal bloodline, Britain has vanquished the Romans, and the romance between Imogen and Posthumous will triumph.
As the finale unravels the masked characters are unveiled, and after it’s all said and done the characters finally “get it,” get what they want, and get what they never expected. We learned earlier in this class that there is no such thing as a “wrong interpretation” of Shakespeare. Something that Frederick Turner said really stuck with me: “The weightless thoughts of man effectively control the massive universe itself, if correct principles of rational transformation – proper levers, pulleys, lenses, clocks, quadrants – can be found. The microcosm can not only reflect, but control, the macrocosm” (Turner). As possessors of this potential, if we manifest, maximize and master the infinite capaciousness of undeveloped imagination then we may impersonate the power of the universe. Furthermore, knowing the art of acting is a good start because impersonating another takes very little weight (not to mention that your memory aptitude does increase). If I dozed off into my imagination and somehow conjured up this scenario whence I saw The William Shakespeare then he would surely be a thespian because “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts” (622). Some of Cymbeline’s characters choose their roles in order to blind others of their true identity, while others are naturally blind and simultaneously missing the point if they haven’t yet discarded their unconscious masking. Interpretation, impersonation, and imagination are a few keys to the universe, some tools for thought, and Shakespeare has enriched the story of Cymbeline with these qualities. The final scene of Act V is merely a microcosm of the macrocosm that is Cymbeline, The Romances, The Complete Works of…, Literature, Knowledge, and so on.
Works Cited
- Shakespeare, William. Cymbeline. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Published by Barnes & Noble, Inc. Print. 1994.
- Shakespeare, William. As You Like It. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Published by Barnes & Noble, Inc. Print. 1994.
- Turner, Frederick. “The School of Night.” Frederick Turner’s Blog: mark my words: on poetry, life, culture, and the cosmos. Web. 26 February 2009.
- Adams, Robert M. Shakespeare: The Four Romances. Published by Penguin Books. Canada. 1989. Print.
