Britain. A Hall in CYMBELINE'S Palace. |
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Enter at one door CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, and Lords; 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 |
And his succession, granted Rome a tribute, |
Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately |
Is left untender'd. |
Queen. And, to kill the marvel, |
Shall be so ever. |
Clo. 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 's, 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 topmast. 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— |
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 moe 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 ambition— |
Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch |
The sides o' the world—against all colour here |
Did put the yoke upon 's; which to shake off |
Becomes a war-like 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 franchise |
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 call'd |
Himself a king. |
Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline, |
That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar— |
Cæsar, that hath more kings his servants than |
Thyself domestic officers—thine enemy. |
Receive it from me, then: 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. |
Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius. |
Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent |
Much under him; of him I gather'd honour; |
Which he, to seek of me again, perforce, |
Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect |
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. |
Luc. Let proof speak. |
Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day or two, or 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 end. |
Luc. So, sir. |
Cym. I know your master's pleasure and he mine: |
All the remain is 'Welcome!' [Exeunt. |
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