POST. Jove! Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her? IACH. Sir, (I thank her,) that: And said she priz'd it once. POST. To send it me. IACH. it me, May be she pluck'd it off, She writes so to you? doth she? POST. O, no, no, no; 't is true. It is a basilisk unto mine eye, Here, take this too; [Gives the ring. Kills me to look on 't:-Let there be no honour PHI. Have patience, sir, And take your ring again; 't is not yet won: It may be probable she lost it; or, - Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted, And so I hope he came by 't:-Back my ring;— IACH. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm. POST. Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears. All sworn, and honourable:-They induc'd to steal it! The cognizance of her incontinency Is this,—she hath bought the name of whore thus dearly. There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell Divide themselves between you! PHI. Sir, be patient! This is not strong enough to be believ'd Of one persuaded well of POST. Never talk on 't; She hath been colted by him. IACH. If you seek POST. Ay, and it doth confirm Another stain, as big as hell can hold, Were there no more but it. IACH. Will you hear more? POST. Spare your arithmetic: never count the turns; Once, and a million! IACH. POST. I'll be sworn,— No swearing. If you will swear you have not done 't, you lie; Thou hast made me cuckold. IACH. I'll deny nothing. POST. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal! PHI. [Exit. POST. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half-workers? We are all bastards; 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 Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it, All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows, For ev'n to vice They are not constant, but are changing still Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I.-Britain. A Room of State in Cymbeline's Palace. Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, and Lords, at one door; and at another, CAIUS LUCIUS and Attendants. CYм. Now say, what would Augustus Cæsar with us? QUEEN. Shall be so ever. CLO. And, to kill the marvel, 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 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 Of came, and saw, and overcame: with shame (0, giglot fortune!) to master Caesar'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. CYм. 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 ambition, The sides o' the world,) against all colour, here Ordain'd our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar Though Rome be therefore angry;) Mulmutius made our laws, Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline, That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar I thank thee for myself. Сум. Thou art welcome, Caius. Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent |