I'll be reveng'd:- And ring, is yours: If not, the foul opinion His meanest garment ?--Well. [Exit. You had of her pure honour, gains, or loses, Your sword, or mine; or masterless leaves both SCENE IV. Rome. An Apartment in Philario's To who shall find them.
Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius
Will do his commission throughly: And, I think,
He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages,
Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet fresh in their grief.
I do believe,
Post.
(Statist though I am none, nor like to be,)
That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
The legions, now in Gallia, sooner landed
In our not-fearing Britain, than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men more order'd, than when Julius Cæsar
Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at: Their discipline
(Now mingled with their courages) will make
To their approvers, they are people, such
That mend upon the world.
Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is't not
Too dull for your good wearing?
Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth, as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe whose strength
I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not,
You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.
(Where, I confess, I slept not; but, profess,
Had that was well worth watching,) It was hang'd
With tapestry of silk and silver; the story
Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman,
And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for
The press of boats, or pride: A piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
workmanship, and value; which I wonder'd, Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
Since the true life on't was
This is a thing,
Which you might from relation likewise reap;
Being, as it is, much spoke of.
Iach.
The roof o'the chamber
With golden cherubins is fretted: Her andirons
(I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
Depending on their brands.
Let it be granted, you have seen all this, (and
Be given to your remembrance,) the description
Of what is in her chamber, nothing saves
The wager you have laid.
Then, if you can, [Pulling out the bracelet.
Be pale; I heg but leave to air this jewel: See-
And now 'tis up again: It must be married
To that your diamond; I'll keep them.
Post.
Once more let me behold it: Is it that,
Which I left with her?
Sir, (I thank her,) that:
She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;
Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
And yet enrich'd it too: She gave it me, and said,
If I have lost it, She priz'd it once.
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 limbmeal!
1 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.
SCENE V. The same. Another Room in the same.
Enter Posthumus.
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
Is left untender'd.
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 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'
[conquest
But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of
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
(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.
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 Diana of that time so doth my wife The nonpareil of this.-0 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 warın'd old Saturn; that I thought have a hand. Why tribute? why should we pay As chaste as unsunn'd snow:-O, all the devils!This yellow lachimo, in an hour,-was't not?Or less, at first: Perchance he spoke not; but, Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
Cym. Son, let your mother end.
Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe as [her hard as Cassibelan: I do not say, I am one; but I 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.
Cry'd, oh! and mounted found no opposition
But what he look'd for should oppose, nd 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;
Lust andrank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in 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
Till the injurious Romans did extort
[tion,
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 Mulmutius, which
Ordain'd our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar
Hath too much mangled; whose repair, and fran-
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
ness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increas
Leonatus Posthumus.
ing in love,
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,
O, let me 'bate, but not like me:-yet long'st
But in a fainter kind :-0, 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
Why should excuse be born or e'er begot? [hence;
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?
One score, 'twixt sun and sun,
Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man,
[mine: Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding
Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i'the clock's behalf:- -But this is
Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say [foolery:
She'll home to her father and provide me, pre
A riding suit; no costlier than would fit [sently,
Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he All the remain is, welcome.
SCENE II. - Another Room in the same.
Enter Pisanio.
Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you A franklin's housewife.
What monster's her accuser? - Leonatus!
O, master! what a strange infection
Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian
(As poisonous tongue'd, as handed,) hath prevail'd
On thy too ready hearing?-Disloyal? No:
She's punish'd sh'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
If it be so to do good service, never
[blood?
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity,
So much as this fact comes to? Dot: The letter
[Reading.
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.
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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 happi
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.
[Rzeunt. 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 jet 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.
Hail, heaven! Bel. Now for our mountain sport: Up to yon
Your legs are young: I'll tread these flats. Con-
When you above perceive me like a crow, [sider,
That it is place, which lessens, and sets off.
And you may then revolve what tales I have told
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd: To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see:
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler, than attending for a check;
Richer than doing nothing for a babe;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak we, poor
Have never wing'd from view o'the nest; nor knse
What air's from home. Haply, this life is best, [not
If quiet life be best; sweeter to you,
That have a sharper known; well corresponding
With your stiff age: but, unto us, it is
Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly: the art o'the court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery, that
The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I'the name of fame, and honour; which-dies i'the
And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph,
As record of fair act; hay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
Must court'sey at the censure:-O, boys, this story
The world may read in me: My body's mark'd
With Roman swords; ds; and my report was once
First with the best of note: Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: Then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit: but, in one
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, [night,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.
Bel. My fault being nothing, (as I have told you
oft,) But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline, I was confederate with the Romans: so,
Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years,
This rock, and these demesnes, have been my
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid
More pious debts to heaven, than in all [tains;
The fore-end of my time. But, up to the moun-
This is not hunters language: He, that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o'the feast;
To him the other two shall minister;
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the
valleys.
[Exeunt Gui. and Arv.
How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature!
These boys know little, they are sons to the king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think, they are mine: and, though train'd up thus meanly
I'the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In simple and low things, to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
The king his father call'd Guiderius, Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story: say, Thus mine enemy fell;
And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in pos-
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cad(Once Arviragus,) in as like a figure,
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more
His own conceiving. Hark! the game is rous'd!
Q Cymbeline! heaven, and my conscience, knows,
Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon,
At three, and two years old, I stole these babes;
Thinking to bar thee of succession, as
Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,
Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse,
the place Was near at hand :- Ne'er long'd my mother so To see me first, as I have now:-Pisanio! Man! Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind, That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks
From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus,
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication: Put thyself
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
A look untender? If it be summer news,
Smile to't before: if winterly, thou need'st [hand!
But keep that countenance still.- My husband's
That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he's at some hard point. Speak, man; thy
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And you shall find me, wretched man, a thi
The most disdain'd of fortune.
the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whoreof lie Imo. [Reads.] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises; as I expect my revenge. That part, thou, Pisanio, but from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain must act for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take away her life: I shall give thee opportunities at Milford-Haven: fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou she hath my letter for the purpose: Where, if thou art the pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal.
Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword? the paper
Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue.
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters. What cheer, ma-
dam?
Imo. False to his bed! What is it, to be false ?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
To weep 'twixt clock and elock? if sleep charge
To break it with a fearful dream of him, [nature,
And cry myself awake ? that's false to his bed?
Is it ?
Imo. I false? Thy conscience witness:-Iachimo Thou didst accuse him of incontinency, Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, methinks, Thy favour's good enough.-- Some jay of Italy, Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion; [him: And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls, I must be ripp'd-to pieces with me!-0, Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seemBy thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought [ing, Put on for villainy; not born, where't grows; But worn, a bait for ladies. Pis.
Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for their From most true wretchedness: So, thou, PosthuAnd every day do honour to her grave:
Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men; [mus, Goodly, and gallant, shall be false, and perjur'd,
Imo. No court, no father; nor no more ado With that harsh, noble, simple, nothing: That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
[him, As fearful as a siege.
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide. heart:
From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou ho-
Do thou thy master's bidding: When thou see'st
A little witness my obedience: Look!
I draw the sword myself: take it; and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my
Fear not; 'tis empty of all things, but grief:
Thy master is not there; who was, indeed,
The riches of it Do his bidding; strike.
Thou may'st be valiant in a better cause;
But now thou seem'st a coward.
Thou shalt not damn my hand. Imo.
Where then? Hath Britain all the sun that shines Day, night, Are they not but in Britain? I'the world's volume Our Britain seems as of it, but not in it; In a great pool, a swan's nest; Pr'ythee, think There's livers out of Britain.
I am most glad
You think of other place. The embassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow; Now, if you could wear a mind
[heart; Dark as your fortune is; and but disguise
That, which, to appear itself, must not yet be,
But by self-danger; you should tread a course. I
Pretty, and full of view: yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus: so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's: Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine,
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my
Something's afore't: -Soft, soft; we'll no defence;
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turn'd to heresy ? Away, away,
Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart! Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers: Though those that are be-
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor [tray'd
Stands in worse case of woe.
And thou, Posthumus, thou that did'st set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father,
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness and I grie
To think, when thou shalt be disedg'd by by her
That now thou tir'st on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me.-Pr'ythee, despatch:
The lamb entreats the butcher: Where's thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too. Pis.
Since I receiv'd command to do this business,
I have not slept one wink.
Do't, and to bed then.
Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
Imo.
Though peril to my modesty, not death on't,
I would adventure.
Pis.
Well then, here's the point
You must forget to be a woman; change
Command obedience, fear, and niceness,
(The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty self,) to a waggish courage:
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and
As quarrellous as the weasel; nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart!
Alack no remedy !) to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan: and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.
Pis.
First, make yourself but like one.
Fore-thinking this. I his, I have already fit,
('Tis in my cloak-bag,) doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them: Would you, in their serv-
[ing,
Mine action, and thine own wn? our horses' labour ? And with that imitation you can borrow
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd So many miles, with a pretence? this place?
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away:
There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
All that good time will give us: This attempt
I'm soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.
Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell;
Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box: I had it from the queen;
What's in't is precious; if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood:-May the gods
Direct you to the best!
Imo.
SCENE V. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace,
Why, good fellow, Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, and
What shall I do the while? Where bide? How
Or in my life what comfort, when I am [live?
Pis.
Lords. Cym. Thus far; and so farewell.
If you'll back to the court, My emperor hath wrote: I must from hence;
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