| ACT III SCENE I | Britain. A hall in Cymbeline's palace. | |
| | 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? | |
| CAIUS LUCIUS | When Julius Caesar, whose remembrance yet | |
| | Lives in men's eyes and will to ears and tongues | |
| | Be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain | 5 |
| | And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle,-- | |
| | Famous in Caesar'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 | 10 |
| | Is left untender'd. | |
| QUEEN | And, to kill the marvel, | |
| | Shall be so ever. | |
| CLOTEN | There be many Caesars, | |
| | Ere such another Julius. Britain is | 15 |
| | 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, | 20 |
| | The kings your ancestors, together with | |
| | The natural bravery of your isle, which stands | |
| | As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in | |
| | With rocks unscalable and roaring waters, | |
| | With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats, | 25 |
| | But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of conquest | |
| | Caesar made here; but made not here his brag | |
| | Of 'Came' and 'saw' and 'overcame: ' with shame-- | |
| | That first that ever touch'd him--he was carried | |
| | From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping-- | 30 |
| | Poor ignorant baubles!-- upon our terrible seas, | |
| | Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd | |
| | As easily 'gainst our rocks: for joy whereof | |
| | The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point-- | |
| | O giglot fortune!--to master Caesar's sword, | 35 |
| | Made Lud's town 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 moe such Caesars: other of | 40 |
| | them may have crook'd noses, but to owe such | |
| | straight arms, none. | |
| CYMBELINE | Son, let your mother end. | |
| CLOTEN | We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as | |
| | Cassibelan: I do not say I am one; but I have a | 45 |
| | 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, sir, no more tribute, pray you now. | |
| CYMBELINE | You must know, | 50 |
| | Till the injurious Romans did extort | |
| | This tribute from us, we were free: | |
| | Caesar's ambition, | |
| | Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch | |
| | The sides o' the world, against all colour here | 55 |
| | Did put the yoke upon 's; which to shake off | |
| | Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon | |
| | Ourselves to be. | |
| CLOTEN | | | |
| | | We do. | 60 |
| Lords | | | |
| CYMBELINE | Say, then, to Caesar, | |
| | Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which | |
| | Ordain'd our laws, whose use the sword of Caesar | |
| | Hath too much mangled; whose repair and franchise | 65 |
| | 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. | 70 |
| CAIUS 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 | 75 |
| | In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look | |
| | For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied, | |
| | I thank thee for myself. | |
| CYMBELINE | Thou art welcome, Caius. | |
| | Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent | 80 |
| | 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 | 85 |
| | Which not to read would show the Britons cold: | |
| | So Caesar shall not find them. | |
| CAIUS LUCIUS | Let proof speak. | |
| CLOTEN | His majesty bids you welcome. Make | |
| | pastime with us a day or two, or longer: if | 90 |
| | 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. | 95 |
| CAIUS LUCIUS | So, sir. | |
| CYMBELINE | I know your master's pleasure and he mine: | |
| | All the remain is 'Welcome!' | |
| | Exeunt | |
