Original: The crickets sing, and man’s o’erlabour’d sense
Modern: The crickets are chirping, and exhausted people

Original: Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Modern: Restore themselves through sleep. Like the Roman rapist Tarquin,

Original: Did softly press the rushes ere he waken’d
Modern: I quietly stepped on the floor rushes before I disturbed

Original: The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
Modern: The virtue I’m about to violate. Oh, Imogen (beautiful as Venus),

Original: How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! fresh lily,
Modern: How magnificently beautiful you look in your bed! You’re like a fresh lily,

Original: And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
Modern: Even whiter than the bedsheets! If only I could touch you!

Original: But kiss: one kiss! Rubies unparagon’d,
Modern: Or kiss you—just one kiss! Your lips are like perfect rubies,

Original: How dearly they do’t! ‘Tis her breathing that
Modern: So precious and rare! It’s her breath that

Original: Perfumes the chamber thus; the flame of the taper
Modern: Makes the room smell sweet like this; even the candle flame

Original: Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids,
Modern: Leans toward her, wanting to peek under her eyelids

Original: To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Modern: To see her eyes, which are now covered

Original: Under these windows, white and azure lac’d
Modern: By these eyelids, white skin with blue veins

Original: With blue of heaven’s own tinct. But my design,
Modern: Like the color of the sky itself. But my plan—

Original: To note the chamber: I will write all down:
Modern: I need to memorize this room. I’ll write everything down:

Original: Such and such pictures; there the window; such
Modern: These particular pictures, the window there, and

Original: Th’ adornment of her bed; the arras, figures,
Modern: How her bed is decorated; the wall tapestries and their designs,

Original: Why, such and such; and the contents o’ the story.
Modern: All these specific details, and what stories they show.

Original: Ah! but some natural notes about her body,
Modern: Ah! But some intimate details about her body

Original: Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Modern: Would be worth more than ten thousand pieces of furniture

Original: Would testify, to enrich mine inventory.
Modern: As proof to make my list of evidence more convincing.

Original: O sleep! thou ape of death, lie dull upon her;
Modern: Oh sleep, you imitation of death, keep weighing heavy on her,

Original: And be her senses but as a monument
Modern: And let her remain as still and unaware as a stone statue

Original: Thus in a chapel lying. Come off, come off;.
Modern: Lying in a church. Come off, come off, bracelet.

Original: As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard!
Modern: It slides off as easily as that legendary knot was difficult to untie!

Original: ‘Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
Modern: I’ve got it; and this bracelet will serve as visible proof,

Original: As strongly as the conscience does within,
Modern: As powerful as guilty conscience works inside someone,

Original: To the madding of her lord. On her left breast
Modern: To drive her husband insane with jealousy. On her left breast

Original: A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
Modern: There’s a mole with five spots, like the red spots

Original: I’ the bottom of a cowslip: here’s a voucher;
Modern: Inside a cowslip flower—here’s my proof,

Original: Stronger than ever law could make: this secret
Modern: More convincing than any legal document could be. This private detail

Original: Will force him think I have pick’d the lock and ta’en
Modern: Will make him believe I’ve broken through her defenses and taken

Original: The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end?
Modern: Her precious virginity. That’s enough. Why continue?

Original: Why should I write this down, that’s riveted,
Modern: Why should I bother writing this down when it’s burned,

Original: Screw’d to my memory? She hath been reading late
Modern: Fastened permanently in my memory? She was reading recently

Original: The tale of Tereus; here the leaf’s turn’d down
Modern: The story of Tereus the rapist; here’s where the page is folded

Original: Where Philomel gave up. I have enough:
Modern: At the part where Philomela was raped. I have enough evidence.

Original: To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Modern: Back into the trunk, and I’ll close the lid.

Original: Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning
Modern: Hurry, hurry, you creatures that pull night’s chariot, so that dawn

Original: May bare the raven’s eye! I lodge in fear;
Modern: May open the raven’s eye and bring daylight! I’m staying here in terror;

Original: Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
Modern: Even though she’s a heavenly angel, I’m living in hell right now.

Original: One, two, three: time, time!
Modern: One, two, three o’clock—time to go, time to go!

In this brief but crucial scene, Iachimo emerges from the trunk in Imogen’s bedchamber while she sleeps. He surveys the room, noting specific details such as the tapestry depicting the story of Cleopatra meeting Mark Antony, the carved fireplace mantel featuring Diana bathing, and the general furnishings and adornments of the chamber. As Imogen sleeps, Iachimo approaches her bed and observes her closely, taking note of a mole upon her left breast, which he describes as being spotted like a cowslip flower. He removes the bracelet that Posthumus had given her from her arm as proof of his supposed conquest.

Before returning to the trunk, Iachimo continues to catalog intimate details that will serve as evidence in his deception of Posthumus. He takes out a book from her bedside, noting that she has been reading the tale of Tereus and Philomel and has turned down the leaf at page twenty. He observes the room’s windows facing south, records these various particulars in his memory, and takes the bracelet with him. As the clock strikes three, signaling that he has approximately two hours before dawn, Iachimo returns to the trunk, confident that the evidence he has gathered will be sufficient to convince Posthumus of Imogen’s infidelity and win him the wager.

Cymbeline tells the story of King Cymbeline of Britain, whose daughter Imogen secretly marries Posthumus Leonatus against her father’s wishes. Cymbeline banishes Posthumus to Rome, where he boasts of Imogen’s virtue and fidelity. The cunning Iachimo wagers that he can seduce Imogen and prove her unfaithful. When his direct attempts fail, Iachimo hides in a trunk in Imogen’s bedchamber, emerges while she sleeps, and steals her bracelet while noting intimate details of her body and room.

Returning to Rome with his false evidence, Iachimo convinces Posthumus that Imogen has been unfaithful. Enraged, Posthumus orders his servant Pisanio to kill Imogen. Instead, Pisanio reveals the plot to Imogen and helps her escape by disguising her as a young man named Fidele. She flees to the Welsh mountains, where she unknowingly encounters her long-lost brothers, Guiderius and Arviragus, who were kidnapped as infants and raised by the banished lord Belarius.

Meanwhile, Cymbeline’s evil Queen (Imogen’s stepmother) plots to poison Imogen and place her own son Cloten on the throne. Cloten pursues Imogen to Wales, where Guiderius kills him in combat. The Queen’s physician Cornelius has secretly given her a sleeping potion instead of poison, but when Imogen takes it believing it to be medicine, she falls into a death-like sleep beside Cloten’s headless corpse, whom she mistakes for Posthumus upon awakening.

The play culminates when Roman forces invade Britain. During the battle, the disguised Imogen serves the Romans while her unknown brothers and Belarius fight for Britain. After Britain’s victory, all deceptions are revealed: Iachimo confesses his lies, the Queen dies after admitting her evil plots, Imogen’s true identity and virtue are established, the royal brothers are restored to their father, and Posthumus and Imogen are reunited. Cymbeline makes peace with Rome and pardons all offenders.