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 ;— It is the woman's part: Be't lying, note it, All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows, 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 520 In a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better. [Exit. ACT ACT III. SCENE 1. CYMBELINE'S Palace. Enter, in State, CYMBELINE, Queen, CLOTEN, and Lords, at one Door; and at another, CAIUS LUCIUS, and Attendants. Cymbeline. Now say, what would Augustus Cæsar with us? Than in his feats deserving it), for him, Yearly three thousand pounds; which by thee lately Queen. And, to kill the marvel, Shall be so ever. Clot. 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 10 We have again. Remember, sir, my liege, The kings your ancestors; together with 20 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 con quest 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 mov'd upon their surges, crack'd As easily 'gainst our rocks: For joy whereof, The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point (0, giglet fortune!) to master Cæsar's sword, Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright, And Britons strut with courage. 30 Clot. 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 crook'd noses; but, to own such strait arms, none. Cym. Son, let your mother end. 41 Clot. 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 Cæsar 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 Roman did extort 50 This tribute from us, we were free: Cæsar's ambi tion (Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch chise, Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, 60 Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made our laws, Who was the first of Britain, which did put Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline, That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar Thyself domestic officers) thine enemy: Receive it from me then :-War, and confusion, 70 In Cæsar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look For fury not to be resisted :-Thus defy'd, I thank thee for myself. Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius. Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent That That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for 80 Their liberties, are now in arms: a precedent Luc. Let proof speak. Clot. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day, or two, or 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 your's, if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there's an end. Luc. So, sir. go Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine: All the remain is, welcome. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another Room. Enter PISANIO. Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you not What monsters her accuse?-Leonatus ! Q, master! what a strange infection Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian 100 |