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For further satisfying, under her breast
(Worthy the pressing), lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging : By my life,
I kiss'd it; avd it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full, You do remember
This stain upon her?
Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.
bear more? Post. Spare your arithmetick: never count the
Once, and a million !
I'll be sworn,
If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny
Thou hast made me cuckold.
I will deny nothing.
Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-
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.
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. 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
As chaste as unsunn'd snow:-0, all the devils !
This yellow lachimo, in an houry--was't not?m.
Or less,--at first: Perchance he spoke uot; but,
Like a full.acorn's boar, a German one,
Cry'd, 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 ; Aattering, hers ; deceiving, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be nam'd, pay that hell knows, .
Why, bers, io part, or all; but, rather, all:
For ev'n to vice
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 Cymbe.
Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords, at
one door; and at another, Caius Lucius, and
Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Cæsar with
Luc. Wheu 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 Cæsar'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.
And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
There be many Cæsars,
Ere such another Julius. Britain is
A world by itself; and we will nothing pay,
For wearing our own noses.
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 con.
Cæsar made here; but made not here his bras,
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, 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 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 Romans did extort This tribute from us, we were free : Cæsar's ambi.
(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 Cæsar,
Our ancestor was that Malmutius, which
Ordain’d our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar
Hath too much mangled; whose repair, and fran.
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 callid
Himself a king.
I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar
(Cæsar, that hath more kings bis servants, than
Thyself domestick officers), thine enemy:
Receive it from me, tben :-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.
Thou art welcome, Caius,
Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent
Much under him; of him I gather'd houour;
Which he, to seek of me again, perforce,
Behoves me keep at utterance*; I am perfect t,
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.
Let proof speak. Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pasa time with us a day, or two, longer: If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you sliall find us in our salt-water girdle: if you beat us out of it, it is yours;
you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there's an end.
Luc. So, sir.
Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he
All the remain is, welcome.
• At the extremity of defiance.
+ Well informed.