Phil. Have patience, fir,

And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won :

It may be probable, fhe loft it; or,

Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted,
Hath ftolen it from her.

Poft. Very true;

And fo, I hope, he came by't :-Back my ring;-
Render to me fome corporal fign about her,

More evident than this; for this was ftolen.
Iach. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.

Poft. Hark you, he fwears; by Jupiter he fwears. 'Tis true;-nay, keep the ring-'tis true: I am sure, She could not lofe it: her attendants are

All fworn, and honourable :-They induc'd to steal it! And, by a stranger?-No; he hath enjoy'd her:

Is this, he hath bought the name of whore thus dearly.There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell

Divide themselves between you!

Phil. Sir, be patient:

This is not strong enough to be believ'd

Of one perfuaded well of

Poft. Never talk on't:

She hath been colted by him.

For further fatisfying, under her breast,
(Worthy her preffing) lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging: By my life,

I kifs'd it; and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, through full. You do remember
This ftain upon her?

Poft. Ay, and it doth confirm

The cognizance]-The token.

Another

Another stain, as big as hell can hold,

Were there no more but it.

Iach. Will you hear more?

Poft. Spare your arithmetick: never count the turns;

Once, and a million!

If

Iach. I'll be fworn,

Poft. No fwearing :

you will fwear you have not done't, you lye;

And I will kill thee, if thou doft deny

Thou haft made me cuckold.

Iach. I will deny nothing.

Poft. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal!

I will go there, and do't; i' the court; before

Her father :---I'll do something——

Phil. Quite befides

The government of patience!-You have won:
Let's follow him, and 'pervert the present wrath

He hath against himself.

[Exit.

Iach. With all my heart.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Another Room in Philario's House.

Enter Pofthumus.

Poft. Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? We are all baftards;
And that most venerable man, which I
Did call my father, was I know not where

When I was ftamp'd; fome coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit: Yet my mother seem'd
The Dian of that time: fo doth my wife

The non-pareil of this.-Oh vengeance, vengeance!

perver:]-divert the dire effects of-prevent.

Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd,
And pray'd me, oft, forbearance: did it with
A pudency fo rofy, the fweet view on't

Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her
As chafte as unfunn'd fnow :-O, all the devils !-
This yellow Iachimo, in an hour,-was't not?—
Or less,—at first: Perchance he spoke not; but,
Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
Cry'd, ob! and mounted: found no oppofition,
But what he look'd for fhould oppofe, and fhe
Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm

It is the woman's part: Be't lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Luft and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, flanders, mutability,

All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all:
For even to vice

They are not conftant, but are changing still
One vice, but of a minute old, for one

m

Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Deteft them, curfe them :-Yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better.

k yellow-fallow.

[Exit.

} change of prides,]-changes of pride.

I'll write]-I'll enter my protest.

ACT

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter, in ftate, Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords, at one door; and at another, Caius Lucius, and Attendants.

Cym. Now fay, what would Auguftus Cæfar with us? Luc. When Julius Cæfar (whofe 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, Caffibelan, thine uncle,

(Famous in Cæfar's praises, no whit less

Than in his feats deferving it) for him,
And his fucceffion, granted Rome a tribute,

Yearly three thousand pounds; which by thee lately
Is left untender'd.

Queen. And, to kill the marvel,

Shall be fo ever.

n

Clot. There be many Cæfars,

Ere fuch another Julius. Britain is

A world by itself; and we will nothing pay

For wearing out our own noses.

Queen. That opportunity,

Which then they had to take from us, to refume
We have again. Remember, fir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors; together with
The natural bravery of your ifle; which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in

With rocks unfcaleable, and roaring waters;

"There be]-There will, or may be.

• onks-wooden forts and and caftles.

N 3

With

With fands, that will not bear your enemies' boats,
But fuck them up to the top-maft. A kind of conqueft
Cæfar made here; but made not here his brag
Of, came, and faw, and overcame with fhame
(The first that ever touch'd him) he was carried
From off our coaft, twice beaten; and his fhipping,
(Poor ignorant baubles!) on our terrible feas,
Like egg-fhells mov'd upon their furges, crack'd
As easily 'gainst our rocks: For joy whereof,
The fam'd Caffibelan, who was once at point
(0, giglet fortune!) to mafter Cæfar's fword,
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright,
And Britons ftrut with courage.

Clot. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: Our kingdom is ftronger than it was at that time; and, as I faid, there is no more fuch Cæfars: other of them may have crook'd nofes; but, to own fuch ftrait arms, none. Cym. Son, let your mother end.

Clot. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Caffibelan: I do not fay, I am one; but I have a hand. -Why tribute? why fhould we pay tribute? If Cæfar can hide the fun from us with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light; elfe, fir, no more tribute, pray you now.

Cym. You must know,

'Till the injurious Roman did extort

This tribute from us, we were free: Cæfar's ambition,
(Which fwell'd fo much, that it did almost stretch
The fides o' the world) against all colour, here
Did put the yoke upon us; which to shake off,
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon

P (Poor ignorant baubles !)]—useless, ill adapted to the fervice. ↑ may bave crook'd noses;1-may refemble Julius in the nose, but none of them will ever match him in bravery.

against all colour,]-of juftice, without the leaft fhew of right.

Ourselves