Shakespeare's First Folio Part 678

Iach. Not a whit, Your Lady being so easy

Post. Make note Sir Your losse, your Sport: I hope you know that we Must not continue Friends

Iach. Good Sir, we must If you keepe Couenant: had I not brought The knowledge of your Mistris home, I grant We were to question farther; but I now Professe my selfe the winner of her Honor, Together with your Ring; and not the wronger Of her, or you hauing proceeded but By both your willes

Post. If you can mak't apparant That you haue tasted her in Bed; my hand, And Ring is yours. If not, the foule opinion You had of her pure Honour; gaines, or looses, Your Sword, or mine, or Masterlesse leaue both To who shall finde them

Iach. Sir, my Circ.u.mstances Being so nere the Truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you to beleeue; whose strength I will confirme with oath, which I doubt not You'l giue me leaue to spare, when you shall finde You neede it not

Post. Proceed

Iach. First, her Bed-chamber (Where I confesse I slept not, but professe Had that was well worth watching) it was hang'd With Tapistry of Silke, and Siluer, the Story Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Sidnus swell'd aboue the Bankes, or for The presse of Boates, or Pride. A peece of Worke So brauely done, so rich, that it did striue In Workemans.h.i.+p, and Value, which I wonder'd Could be so rarely, and exactly wrought Since the true life on't was- Post. This is true: And this you might haue heard of heere, by me, Or by some other

Iach. More particulars Must iustifie my knowledge

Post. So they must, Or doe your Honour iniury

Iach. The Chimney Is South the Chamber, and the Chimney-peece Chaste Dian, bathing: neuer saw I figures So likely to report themselues; the Cutter Was as another Nature dumbe, out-went her, Motion, and Breath left out

Post. This is a thing Which you might from Relation likewise reape, Being, as it is, much spoke of

Iach. The Roofe o'th' Chamber, With golden Cherubins is fretted. Her Andirons (I had forgot them) were two winking Cupids Of Siluer, each on one foote standing, nicely Depending on their Brands

Post. This is her Honor: Let it be granted you haue seene all this (and praise Be giuen to your remembrance) the description Of what is in her Chamber, nothing saues The wager you haue laid

Iach. Then if you can Be pale, I begge but leaue to ayre this Iewell: See, And now 'tis vp againe: it must be married To that your Diamond, Ile keepe them

Post. Ioue- Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her?

Iach. Sir (I thanke her) that She stript it from her Arme: I see her yet: Her pretty Action, did out-sell her guift, And yet enrich'd it too: she gaue it me, And said, she priz'd it once

Post. May be, she pluck'd it off To send it me

Iach. She writes so to you? doth shee?

Post. O no, no, no, 'tis true. Heere, take this too, It is a Basiliske vnto mine eye, Killes me to looke on't: Let there be no Honor, Where there is Beauty: Truth, where semblance: Loue, Where there's another man. The Vowes of Women, Of no more bondage be, to where they are made, Then they are to their Vertues, which is nothing: O, aboue measure false

Phil. Haue patience Sir, And take your Ring againe, 'tis not yet wonne: It may be probable she lost it: or Who knowes if one her women, being corrupted Hath stolne it from her

Post. Very true, And so I hope he came by't: backe my Ring, Render to me some corporall signe about her More euident then this: for this was stolne

Iach. By Iupiter, I had it from her Arme

Post. Hearke you, he sweares: by Iupiter he sweares.

'Tis true, nay keepe the Ring; 'tis true: I am sure She would not loose it: her Attendants are All sworne, and honourable: they induc'd to steale it?

And by a Stranger? No, he hath enioy'd her, The Cognisance of her incontinencie Is this: she hath bought the name of Wh.o.r.e, thus deerly There, take thy hyre, and all the Fiends of h.e.l.l Diuide themselues betweene you

Phil. Sir, be patient: This is not strong enough to be beleeu'd Of one perswaded well of

Post. Neuer talke on't: She hath bin colted by him

Iach. If you seeke For further satisfying, vnder her Breast (Worthy her pressing) lyes a Mole, right proud Of that most delicate Lodging. By my life I kist it, and it gaue me present hunger To feede againe, though full. You do remember This staine vpon her?

Post. I, and it doth confirme Another staine, as bigge as h.e.l.l can hold, Were there no more but it

Iach. Will you heare more?

Post. Spare your Arethmaticke, Neuer count the Turnes: Once, and a Million

Iach. Ile be sworne

Post. No swearing: If you will sweare you haue not done't, you lye, And I will kill thee, if thou do'st deny Thou'st made me Cuckold

Iach. Ile deny nothing

Post. O that I had her heere, to teare her Limb-meale: I will go there and doo't, i'th' Court, before Her Father. Ile do something.

Enter.

Phil. Quite besides The gouernment of Patience. You haue wonne: Let's follow him, and peruert the present wrath He hath against himselfe

Iach. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Enter Posthumus.

Post. Is there no way for Men to be, but Women Must be halfe-workers? We are all b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, And that most venerable man, which I Did call my Father, was, I know not where When I was stampt. Some Coyner with his Tooles Made me a counterfeit: yet my Mother seem'd The Dian of that time: so doth my Wife The Non-pareill of this. Oh Vengeance, Vengeance!

Me of my lawfull pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me oft forbearance: did it with A pudencie so Rosie, the sweet view on't Might well haue warm'd olde Saturne; That I thought her As Chaste, as vn-Sunn'd Snow. Oh, all the Diuels!

This yellow Iachimo in an houre, was't not?

Or lesse; at first? Perchance he spoke not, but Like a full Acorn'd Boare, a Iarmen on, Cry'de oh, and mounted; found no opposition But what he look'd for, should oppose, and she Should from encounter guard. Could I finde out The Womans part in me, for there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirme It is the Womans part: be it Lying, note it, The womans: Flattering, hers; Deceiuing, hers: l.u.s.t, and ranke thoughts, hers, hers: Reuenges hers: Ambitions, Couetings, change of Prides, Disdaine, Nice-longing, Slanders, Mutability; All Faults that name, nay, that h.e.l.l knowes, Why hers, in part, or all: but rather all. For euen to Vice They are not constant, but are changing still; One Vice, but of a minute old, for one Not halfe so old as that. Ile write against them, Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater Skill In a true Hate, to pray they haue their will: The very Diuels cannot plague them better.

Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter in State, Cymbeline, Queene, Clotten, and Lords at one doore, and at another, Caius, Lucius; and Attendants.

Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with vs?

Luc. When Iulius Caesar (whose remembrance yet Liues in mens eyes, and will to Eares and Tongues Be Theame, and hearing euer) was in this Britain, And Conquer'd it, Ca.s.sibulan thine Vnkle (Famous in Caesars prayses, no whit lesse Then in his Feats deseruing it) for him, And his Succession, granted Rome a Tribute, Yeerely three thousand pounds; which (by thee) lately Is left vntender'd

Qu. And to kill the meruaile, Shall be so euer

Clot. There be many Caesars, Ere such another Iulius: Britaine's a world By it selfe, and we will nothing pay For wearing our owne Noses

Qu. That opportunity Which then they had to take from's, to resume We haue againe. Remember Sir, my Liege, The Kings your Ancestors, together with The naturall brauery of your Isle, which stands As Neptunes Parke, ribb'd, and pal'd in With Oakes vnskaleable, and roaring Waters, With Sands that will not beare your Enemies Boates, But sucke them vp to'th' Top-mast. A kinde of Conquest Caesar made heere, but made not heere his bragge Of Came, and Saw, and Ouer-came: with shame (The first that euer touch'd him) he was carried From off our Coast, twice beaten: and his s.h.i.+pping (Poore ignorant Baubles) on our terrible Seas Like Egge-shels mou'd vpon their Surges, crack'd As easily 'gainst our Rockes. For ioy whereof, The fam'd Ca.s.sibulan, who was once at point (Oh giglet Fortune) to master Caesars Sword, Made Luds-Towne with reioycing-Fires bright, And Britaines strut with Courage

Clot. Come, there's no more Tribute to be paid: our Kingdome is stronger then it was at that time: and (as I said) there is no mo such Caesars, other of them may haue crook'd Noses, but to owe such straite Armes, none

Cym. Son, let your Mother end

Clot. We haue yet many among vs, can gripe as hard as Ca.s.sibulan, I doe not say I am one: but I haue a hand.

Why Tribute? Why should we pay Tribute? If Caesar can hide the Sun from vs 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