All sworn and honourable :-They induc'd to steal it! Is this, she hath bought the name of whore thus dearly. There, take thy hire and all the fiends of hell Phi. Sir, be patient: This is not strong enough to be believ'd Post. She hath been colted by him. Iach. Never talk on't; If you seek For further satisfying, under her breast (Worthy the pressing,) lies a mole, right proud To feed again, though full. You do remember Post. Another stain, as big as hell can hold, Ay, and it doth confirm If I'll be sworn, No swearing. lie ; you will swear you have not done't, you And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny Thou hast made me cuckold. 4 The badge; the token, Iach. I will deny nothing. Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal! I will go there, and do't; i'the court; before Phi. [Exit. Quite besides The government of patience!-You have won : Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women Did call my father, was I know not where 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? 5 Modesty. Or less, at first: Perchance he spoke not; but, Cry'd, oh! and mounted: found no opposition It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it, All faults that may be nam'd, nay that hell knows, They are not constant, but are changing still Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, The ACT III. [Exit. SCENE I. Britain. A Room of State in 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 Cæsar's praises, no whit less Than in his feats deserving it,) for him, Yearly three thousand pounds; which by thee lately Is left untender'd. 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. 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 mov'd upon their surges, crack'd As easily 'gainst our rocks: for joy whereof, The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point 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 tion, (Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch Ordain'd our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar • Strumpet. |