Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal! I will go there, and do't; i' the court; before Her father:-I'll do something-
The government of patience!-You have won : Let's follow him, and pervert * the present wrath He hath against himself.
Iach. With all my heart.
Another Room in the same.
Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half workers? We are bastards all; And that most venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit: Yet my mother seem'd The Dian of that time: so doth my wife The nonpareil of this.-O vengeance, vengeance! Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me, oft, forbearance: did it with A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't
Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her As chaste as unsunn'd snow:-O, all the devils!- This yellow Iachimo, in an hour,-was 't not ?- Or less, at first: Perchance he spoke not; but, Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one, Cried, oh! and mounted: found no opposition But what he look'd for should oppose, and she Should from encounter guard. Could I find out The woman's part in me! For there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it, The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers; Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, Nice longings, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows, Why hers in part, or all; but, rather, all;
They are not constant, but are changing still One vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, Detest them, curse them:-Yet 'tis greater skill In a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better.
SCENE I-Britain. A Room of State in CYMBELINE'S
Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, and LORDS, at one door; and at another, CAIUS LUCIUS and Attendants.
Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Cæsar with us? Luc. When Julius Cæsar (whose remembrance yet Lives in men's eyes; and will to ears, and tongues, Be theme, and hearing ever) was in this Britain, And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle (Famous in Caesar's praises, no whit less Than in his feats deserving it), for him, And his succession, granted Rome a tribute, Yearly three thousand pounds; which by thee, lately Is left untender'd.
Queen. And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
Clo. There be many Cæsars,
Ere such another Julius. Britain is
A world by itself; and we will nothing pay, For wearing our own noses.
Queen. That opportunity,
Which then they had to take from us, to resume We have again.-Remember, Sir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors; together with
The natural bravery of your isle; which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters;
With sands, that will not bear your enemies' boats,
But suck them up to the top-mast. A kind of conquest Cæsar made here; but made not here his brag Of, came, and saw, and overcame: with shame (The first that ever touch'd him), he was carried From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping, (Poor ignorant baubles!) on our terrible seas, Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd As easily 'gainst our rocks: for joy whereof, The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point (O giglot* fortune!) to master Cæsar's sword, Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright, And Britons strut with courage.
Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: Our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more such Cæsars: other of them may have crooked noses; but, to owe such straight arms, none.
Cym. Son, let your mother end.
Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cassibelan: I do not say, I am one; but I have a hand. Why tribute? why should we pay tribute? If Caesar can hide the sun from us
with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light; else, Sir, no more tribute, pray you, now.
Cym. You must know,
Till the injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free: Cæsar's ambition (Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch The sides o' the world), against all colour,* here Did put the yoke upon us; which to shake off, Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon Ourselves to be. We do say then to Caesar, Our ancestor was that Mulmutius, which Ordain'd our laws (whose use the sword of Cæsar Hath too much mangled; whose repair and franchise, Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, Though Rome be therefore angry); Mulmutius, Who was the first of Britain, which did put His brows within a golden crown, and call'd Himself a king.
Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar (Cæsar, that hath more kings his servants, than Thyself domestic officers), thine enemy:
Receive it from me, then :-War, and confusion, In Cæsar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look For fury not to be resisted:-Thus defied, I thank thee for myself.
Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius.
Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent Much under him; of him I gather'd honour; Which he, to seek of me again, perforce, Behoves me keep at utterance; I am perfect, That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for Their liberties, are now in arms: a precedent Which, not to read, would show the Britons cold: So Cæsar shall not find them.
Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day or two longer: If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find us in our salt-water girdle: if you beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there's an end.
Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine: All the remain is, welcome.
SCENE II-Another Room in the same.
Pis. How! of adultery? wherefore write you not What monster's her accuser ?-Leonatus!
O, master! what a strange infection
Is fallen into thy ear! What false Italian
† At extremity of defiance.
(As poisonous tongue'd, as handed) hath prevail a On thy too ready hearing ?-Disloyal? No: She's punish'd for her truth; and undergoes, More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults As would take in some virtue.-O, my master! Thy mind to her† is now as low, as were
Thy fortunes.-How! that I should murder her? Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I Have made to thy command?-I, her ?-her blood? If it be so to do good service, never
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I, That I should seem to lack humanity,
So much as this fact comes to?
That I have sent her by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity :-O damn'd paper! Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble, Art thou a feodary ‡ for this act, and look'st So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes. Enter IMOGEN.
I am ignorant in what I am commanded. § Imo. How now, Pisanio?
Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who? thy lord? that is my lord? Leonatus? O learn'd indeed were that astronomer,
That knew the stars, as I his characters; He'd lay the future open.-You, good gods, Let what is here contain'd relish of love, Of my lord's health, of his content,-yet not, That we two are asunder, let that grieve him- (Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them, For it doth physic love)-of his content,
All but in that-Good wax, thy leave:-Bless'd be, You bees, that make these locks of counsel! Lovers, And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike; Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
You clasp young Cupid's tables.-Good news, gods!
Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures, would not even renew me with your eyes. Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford Haven. What your own love will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increasing in love, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.
O, for a horse with wings!-Hear'st thou, Pisanio? He is at Milford Haven: Read, and tell me How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs May plod it in a week, why may not I Glide thither in a day?-Then, true Pisanio
(Who long'st like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,
+ As compared with hers. § I. e. unskilled in murder.
O, let me 'bate, but not like me:-yet long'st,- But in a fainter kind :-O, not like me; For mine's beyond beyond), say, and speak thick* (Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing, To the smothering of the sense), how far it is To this same blessed Milford: And, by the way, Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as To inherit such a haven : But first of all, How we may steal from hence; and, for the gap That we shall make in time, from our hence-going, And our return, to excuse :-but first, how get hence: Why should excuse be born or e'er begot? † We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak, How many score of miles may we well ride "Twixt hour and hour?
Pis. One score, 'twixt sun and sun,
Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wagers, Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i' the clock's behalf :-But this is foolery :- Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say,
She'll home to her father: and provide me, presently, A riding suit; no costlier than would fit
A franklin's housewife.
Pis. Madam, you're best consider.
Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here,
Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them,
That I cannot look through. Away, I pr'ythee; Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say;
Accessible is none but Milford way.
SCENE III-Wales. A mountainous Country, with a Cave. Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys: This gate Instructs you how to adore the heavens; and bows you To morning's holy office: The gates of monarchs Are arch'd so high, that giants may jets through And keep their impious turbans on, without Good morrow to the sun.-Hail, thou fair heaven! We house i' the rock, yet use thee not so hardly As prouder livers do.
Gui. Hail, heaven!
Arv. Hail, heaven!
Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon hill, Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider,
When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens, and sets off.
And you may then revolve what tales I have told you,
+ Why invent an excuse before its occasion has arisen.
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