Cymbeline (11 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

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Exit

PHILARIO
    Quite
besides
189

The
government
190
of patience. You have won:

Let’s follow him and
pervert
191
the present wrath

He hath against himself.

IACHIMO
    With all my heart.

Exeunt

Enter Posthumus

POSTHUMUS
    Is there no way for men to be, but women

Must be
half-workers?
We are all bastards
195
,

And that most
venerable
196
man, which I

Did call my father, was I know not where

When I was
stamped.
Some
coiner
198
with his tools

Made me a counterfeit: yet my mother seemed

The Dian of that time: so doth my wife

The
nonpareil
201
of this. O, vengeance, vengeance!

Me of my
lawful pleasure
202
she restrained,

And
prayed me oft forbearance
203
: did it with

A
pudency
so
rosy
, the sweet
view on’t
204

Might well have warmed old
Saturn
205
, that I thought her

As chaste as unsunned snow. O, all the devils!

This
yellow
207
Iachimo in an hour — wast not? —

Or less —
at first?
208
Perchance he spoke not, but

Like a
full-acorned boar
, a
German
209
one,

Cried ‘O!’ and mounted; found no opposition

But what he
looked for
211
should oppose, and she

Should from
encounter
212
guard. Could I find out

The
woman’s part
in me — for there’s no
motion
213

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 and
rank
217
thoughts, hers, hers: revenges, hers:

Ambitions,
covetings
,
change of prides
218
, disdain,

Nice longing
, slanders,
mutability
219
,

All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows,

Why, hers, in part or all: but rather all,

For even to vice

They are not constant, but are changing
still
223

One vice,
but of
224
a minute old, for one

Not half
so
225
old as that. I’ll write against them,

Detest them, curse them: yet ’tis greater
skill
226

In a true hate, to pray they
have their will
227
:

The very devils cannot plague them better.

Exit

Act 3 Scene 1

running scene 7

Enter in state Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten and Lords at one door, and at
another, Caius Lucius and Attendants

CYMBELINE
    Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with us?

LUCIUS
    When Julius Caesar — whose
remembrance
yet
2

Lives in men’s eyes and will to ears and tongues

Be
theme
4
and hearing ever — was in this Britain

And conquered it, Cassibelan, thine uncle —

Famous in Caesar’s praises no whit less
6

Than in his feats deserving it —
for him
7
,

And his succession, granted Rome a tribute,

Yearly three thousand
pounds
9
, which by thee lately

Is left
untendered.
10

QUEEN
    And to
kill the marvel
11
,

Shall be so ever.

CLOTEN
    There
be
13
many Caesars

Ere such another Julius: Britain’s

A world by itself, and we will nothing pay

For wearing our own noses.

QUEEN
    That opportunity

Which then they had to take
from’s
, to
resume
18

We have again. Remember, sir, my
liege
19
,

The kings your ancestors, together with

The natural
bravery of your isle
21
, which stands

As
Neptune’s
park
, ribbed and
paled in
22

With oaks unscalable and roaring waters,

With sands that will not
bear
24
your enemies’ boats,

But
suck them up to th’topmast.
25
A kind of conquest

Caesar made here, but made not here his brag

Of
‘came, and saw, and overcame’
27
: with shame —

The first that ever touched him — he was carried

From off our coast, twice beaten: and his shipping —

Poor
ignorant baubles
30
— on our terrible seas

Like eggshells moved upon their surges, cracked

As easily gainst our rocks. For joy whereof

The famed Cassibelan, who was once
at point
33

O
giglot
fortune! — to
master
34
Caesar’s sword,

Made
Lud’s town
35
with rejoicing fires bright,

And Britons strut with courage.

CLOTEN
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 Caesars. Other of them may have

crooked
noses, but to
owe
such
straight
40
arms, none.

CYMBELINE
Son, let your mother end.

CLOTEN
We have yet many among us can
grip
42
as hard as

Cassibelan: I do not say I am one, but I have a hand. Why

tribute? Why should we pay tribute? If Caesar can hide the

sun from us with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we

will pay him tribute for light:
else
46
, sir, no more tribute, pray

you now.

To Lucius

CYMBELINE
You must know,

Till the
injurious
49
Romans did extort

This tribute from us, we were free. Caesar’s ambition,

Which swelled so much that it did almost stretch

The sides o’th’world,
against all colour
52
here

Did put the yoke upon’s; which to shake off

Becomes
54
a warlike people, whom we reckon

Ourselves to be. We do say then to Caesar,

Our ancestor was that
Mulmutius
which
56

Ordained our laws, whose
use
57
the sword of Caesar

Hath too much mangled, whose
repair
and
franchise
58

Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,

Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made our laws

Who was the first of Britain which did put

His brows within a golden crown and called

Himself a king.

LUCIUS
    I am sorry, Cymbeline,

That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar —

Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than

Thyself domestic officers — thine enemy:

Receive it from me, then. War and
confusion
68

In Caesar’s name
pronounce
69
I gainst thee: look

For fury not to be resisted.
Thus defied
70
,

I thank thee for myself.

CYMBELINE
    Thou art welcome, Caius.

Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent

Much under him: of him I gathered honour,

Which he to seek of me again,
perforce
75
,

Behoves me keep at utterance.
I am
perfect
76

That the
Pannonians and Dalmatians
77
for

Their liberties are now in arms, a
precedent
78

Which not to
read
would show the Britons
cold
79
:

So Caesar shall not find them.

LUCIUS
    
Let proof speak.
81

CLOTEN
    His majesty bids you welcome.
Make pastime
82
with

us a day or two, or longer: if you seek us afterwards in other

terms, you shall find us in our
saltwater girdle
84
: if you beat us

out of it, it is yours: if you fall in the
adventure
, our
crows
85

shall fare the better for you: and there’s an end.

LUCIUS
    
So
87
, sir.

CYMBELINE
    I know your master’s
pleasure
88
, and he mine:

All
the remain
89
is ‘Welcome’.

Exeunt

Act 3 Scene 2

running scene 7 continues

Enter Pisanio, reading of a letter

PISANIO
    
How?
Of adultery?
Wherefore
1
write you not

What monster’s her accuser? Leonatus,

O master, what a strange infection

Is fall’n into thy ear! What false Italian,

As poisonous-tongued as handed
5
, hath prevailed

On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal? No.

She’s punished for her
truth
, and
undergoes
7
,

More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults

As would
take in
some virtue.
9
O my master,

Thy mind to her is now as low as were

Thy fortunes. How? That I should murder her,

Upon
12
the love and truth and vows which I

Have made to thy command? I, her? Her blood?

If it be so to do good service, never

Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,

That I should seem to lack humanity

Reads

So much as this
fact
17
comes to? ‘Do’t: the letter

That I have sent her, by her own command

Shall give thee opportunity.’ O damned paper,

Black as the ink that’s on thee!
Senseless bauble
20
,

Art thou a
fedary
21
for this act, and look’st

So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.

Enter Innogen

I am
ignorant in
23
what I am commanded.

INNOGEN
    How now, Pisanio?

PISANIO
    Madam, here is a letter from my lord.

INNOGEN
    Who, thy lord? That is my lord, Leonatus!

O, learned indeed were that
astronomer
27

That knew the stars as I his
characters
28

He’d lay the future open. You good gods,

Let what is here contained
relish
30
of love,

Of my lord’s health, of his content: yet
not
31

That we two are asunder, let that grieve him;

Some griefs are
med’cinable
33
, that is one of them,

For it doth
physic love
34
: of his content,

All but in that. Good
wax
,
thy leave
35
: blest be

Opens the seal

You bees that make these
locks of counsel!
36
Lovers

And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike:

Though
forfeiters
38
you cast in prison, yet

You clasp young
Cupid’s
tables.
39
Good news, gods!

Reads

‘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
even renew
42
me with your eyes. Take

notice that I am in
Cambria
, at
Milford Haven
43
: what your

own love will out of this advise you, follow. So he wishes you

all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your

increasing in love, Leonatus Posthumus.’

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
49

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
53
— but not like me: yet long’st

But in a
fainter kind.
54
O, not like me,

For
mine
’s beyond, beyond: say, and speak
thick
55

Love’s counsellor should fill the
bores of hearing
56
,

To th’
smothering
57
of the sense — how far it is

To this same blessèd Milford. And
by th’way
58

Tell me how Wales was made so happy as

T’inherit such a haven. But first of all,

How we may
steal
61
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 hence.
63

Why should excuse be born or e’er begot?
64

We’ll talk of that hereafter. Prithee, speak,

How many
score
of miles may we
well
66
ride

’Twixt hour and hour?
67

PISANIO
    One score
’twixt sun and sun
68
,

Madam, ’s enough for you: and too much too.

INNOGEN
    Why, one that rode to’s execution, man,

Could never go so slow: I have heard of
riding wagers
71
,

Where horses have been nimbler than the sands

That run
i’th’clock’s behalf.
73
But this is foolery:

Go, bid my woman
feign
74
a sickness, say

She’ll
home
to her father; and provide me
presently
75

A riding-suit, no costlier than would
fit
76

A
franklin
77
’s housewife.

PISANIO
    Madam,
you’re best
78
consider.

INNOGEN
    I see
before me
, man:
nor
79
here, nor here,

Nor
what ensues
,
but
80
have a fog in them

That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee,

Do as I bid thee: there’s no more to say:

Accessible is
none
83
but Milford way.

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