He that hath missed the Princess is a thing
Too bad for bad report, and he that hath her—
I mean, that married her, alack, good man!
And therefore banished—is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the Earth
For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward and such stuff within
Endows a man but he. (1.1.19–27)
Cymbeline opens with two unnamed gentlemen talking about the latest court gossip: the king has exiled his ward Posthumus for covertly marrying his daughter against his wishes. The gentlemen find this news shocking and unjust. The man who was supposed to marry Imogen—the wicked Queen’s foolish son, Cloten—is “a thing / Too bad to report.” By contrast, Posthumus is actually a “good man,” one whom the gentleman speaking here considers beyond compare. Not only does he have an “outward” appearance that is “fair,” but he has also proven to have “such stuff within [that] / Endows a man.” It is conventional in Shakespeare for the qualities of heroes and heroines to be introduced by minor characters before we meet them. Here, the gentleman reflects a general sense of Posthumus’s virtue. Yet over the course of the play, Posthumus’s actions will force the audience to question this initial celebration of Posthumus’s incomparable worth.
It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Kills me to look on ’t. Let there be no honor
Where there is beauty, truth where semblance, love
Where there’s another man. The vows of women
Of no more bondage be to where they are made
Than they are to their virtues, which is nothing.
O, above measure false! (2.4.136–42)
Posthumus speaks these lines as he surrenders his ring to Iachimo as payment for losing their wager. This is the ring that Imogen gave him as a love token, which he promised never to remove. However, he now believes that Imogen has betrayed him by having sex with Iachimo. Posthumus’s willingness to believe this smooth-tongued Italian is troubling, given that he’s only been given circumstantial evidence. But though his lament is understandable, what’s less understandable is the way he extrapolates from this one example to denounce the vows of all women. As the scene carries on, he grows increasingly unreasonable, leading to these cruel words about his formerly beloved wife: “She hath bought the name of whore thus dearly” (2.4.160–61). These lines portend his later order to Pisanio to kill Imogen, a completely absurd act that recalls the jealous rage of Shakespeare’s Othello.
I am Posthumus,
That killed thy daughter—villainlike, I lie—
That caused a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do ’t. The temple
Of virtue was she, yea, and she herself.
Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o’ th’ street to bay me. Every villain
Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and
Be villainy less than ’twas. O Imogen!
My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen! (5.5.254–64)
In the play’s final scene, after Iachimo has been compelled to confess his trickery, Posthumus comes forward and makes his own confession. He repeatedly denounces himself as a “villain” for having ordered the death of the king’s daughter, and he concludes his confession with a pained lament for his “queen,” his “life,” and his “wife”: “Imogen, / Imogen, Imogen!” This moment represents the last stage of Posthumus’s rehabilitation. He already made his first step toward rehabilitation by taking up arms for Britain, thereby proving his patriotic fidelity to his adoptive homeland. Only now that he has shown public repentance for his denunciation of Imogen can the rift between them be healed. And, with their reunion assured, the reunion of the royal family is close behind.