The Tragedy of Cymbeline was written during the latter ten years of Shakespeare’s life and has much of the exquisite beauty and austere sweetness of Othello and The Tempest, which belong to the same period. In structure this Tragedy is quite complex. There are in it no less than four distinct groups of persons, all of whom, however, though without any concert or common purpose, draw together with perfect smoothness and harmony in working out the author’s plan.

Of all the characters that acquit themselves in this drama, no two show such different dispositions as Imogen and the Queen; for, wherever and under whatever conditions they are found, antagonism in character is sure to be shown. The leading purpose of the play is to be sought for in the character of Imogen. She is an impersonation of the moral beauty of womanhood. This beauty is the vital current of the whole delineation, and everything about her, her form, her features and expression, her dress, her walk, her every motion are steeped in its efficacy. This virtue radiates from her on others and exercises a wonderful influence on almost all about her. Already a wife when we first see her, Imogen acts but little in any other quality; yet in this one she approves herself mistress of that womanly perfection which would make glad the heart and perfect the character of every one who stood in any relationship with her. To make up a perfect woman, she possesses sound judgment and decision of character, which are most admirably displayed in her choice of a husband. Irrespective of parental desires and the efficacy of royal blood, she wisely preferred a true, though humble man to a royal personage that could well be regarded as a counterfeit of humanity. Posthumus sprang of heroic stock. Having been left an orphan at birth, he was taken by the king and grew up the foster-brother and playmate of the princess; and their love, rooted in the innocence of childhood, interlacing all their childish thoughts and pleasures, has ripened with their growth; and now appears the settled habit of their very souls. Cloten, whom she had the good judgment to refuse, was well described when Mr. Hudson phrased him a “noble instance of a man or thing, with not merely a loose screw in the gearing but with all the screws loose.” He was, therefore, the last man that any body, of such sense and refinement as Imogen possessed, could ever be brought to endure. Her faithfulness is seen in her bearing Cloten’s persecutions with patience, till he begins to abuse her exiled husband; then, true to him who is a part of her very nature, she quickly turns upon Cloten, at the same time regretting that he puts her to “forget a lady’s manners by being so verbal.” That Imogen was sincerely virtuous is proved by the fact that Iachimo, upon approaching her with evil intentions, was compelled to exclaim, “Boldness, be my friend! arm me, audacity, from head to foot!” Truly appropriate was this language, for having once learned his wilful intention she with one word shattered his armor of “audacity.” So great was the influence of her purity that Iachimo was at once charmed and chastened, for “under the ribs of death” her moral beauty had created a soul. And further is the truth of her virtue confirmed when Iachimo discovers himself and speaks of her as “that paragon for whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits quail to remember.” That her moral delicacy shrinks from the least atom of untruth, is touchingly shown in this, “If I lie, and do not harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope they’ll pardon it.” Imogen might don a man’s attire, but her pure motives and God-given virtues had shaped a heart that could not contain the sterner qualities of the other sex; and so utterly did she fail in her attempt to appear as a man, that we find wise and reverend manhood exclaiming at sight of her, “Behold divineness no elder than a boy!”

It might be with reluctance that we would turn from contemplating a perfect character to look at the faults of an imperfect one, if we did not first remember that the Queen possesses only those commonplace elements of character that characterizes, though in a less degree, all moral beings. But, since we are through natural instinct and acquired inclination always ready to blame poor human nature, we cannot but give vent to our feelings when we find so mean a grade as is possessed by Cymbeline’s Queen. She is deeply false, false to everything but her son and her own ambition. She has the king quite under her power, the lords blame not the king for any wrong act, knowing that he sees only through her eyes, acts only as she plans, and speaks only as she dictates. The Queen has set her heart upon matching her son with the princess, who is expected to succeed her father in the kingdom, not so much through love for the poor clod, as that she knows him to be a clod whom she will be able to control, and thus secure the continuation of her power. Perhaps the depth of her character is not fathomed by all, and certainly not by the king, until on her death-bed she reveals the most detestible qualities of a corrupt nature.

Thus it is seen that in these characters we have simplicity and harmony of character, clearness of understanding, depth and purity of feeling, the whole circle and aggregate of eloquent womanhood contrasted with a character inconsistent only with the truth, vile deceit, a masculine disposition combined with all that is complex, detestible and fiendish, last, but most prominent of all, a woman destitute of womanhood.