323
comes from Wales, the home of
the Tudor dynasty that had ruled
England until James’s accession
on the death of Elizabeth I in
- The focal point of the
action is Milford Haven in west
Wales. This town had nothing
whatsoever to do with ancient
Roman or ancient British history,
but as the place where Henry
Tudor landed to start the Tudor
dynasty, finally ending the Wars
of the Roses, it was a name
that still resonated strongly
in Shakespeare’s England.
History and myths
Of course, Rome is not just the
contemporary city that Posthumus
finds, but it also signifies ancient,
classical Rome, the Rome of
Augustus when much of Europe,
including Britain, was united in
the comparative peace of the
Roman Empire, the Pax Romana.
It was also the time of the classical
gods—and it is the Roman god
Jupiter who appears to Posthumus
and promises justice and the return
of Innogen. In fact, Innogen’s
deliverance comes from a Wales
steeped in Celtic myth. At the end,
Cymbeline promises to march
through Lud’s town—London,
named after the Celtic king of Britain
and mythical god Lud—to the
temple of the classical god Jupiter.
The final scene, in which all
the convoluted knots of the plot
untangle, was once scorned for itsTHE KING’S MAN
improbability, though now critics
agree that it works dazzlingly well on
stage. It is almost impossible not to
be moved by Giacomo’s confession
and Posthumus’s howls of anguish as
he lashes out at Innogen—before all
is revealed, the lovers are reunited,
Cymbeline finds his lost sons, and
everyone is reconciled, but for the
wicked queen who, conveniently,
is dead. The message seems to be
that, however improbable it seems,
peace and forgiveness is possible
if it is looked for. ■In a Japanese production of
Cymbeline at the Barbican, London,
in 2012, Yukio Ninagawa (center)
brought an epic grandeur to the role
of Cymbeline. The production was a
big, bold, and brash telling of the story.
Giacomo and Innogen Giacomo’s soliloquy as he creeps
around Innogen’s chamber has a
tenderness that seduces the ear—
and, some critics argue, makes the
audience complicit in the act.
Having emerged from a trunk
in her room, he describes the
sleeping Innogen in memorably
exquisite poetic language: “Tis her
breathing that / Perfumes the
chamber thus: the flame o’ the
taper / Bows toward her, and
would under-peep her lids, /
To see the enclosed lights, now
canopied / Under these windows,
white and azure laced / With blue
of heaven’s own tinct” (2.1.20–25).The distinguishing mark on
her breast, the evidence for his
claim to have seduced her, “the
crimson drops / I’ the bottom of
a cowslip”—is an image of such
natural purity that it is easy to
forget the intrusion he is making.
Giacomo, with his seductive
language, tries to twist even
rape into something beautiful.
He likens his deed to the ancient
Roman king Tarquin’s brutal
rape of the noblewoman Lucrece
in such a way that it sounds like
an act of tenderness. This poetic
pornography makes for a deeply
disturbing speech.