Motion and breath left out.

Post.

This is a thing,

Which you might from relation likewise reap;

Being, as it is, much spoke of.

Iach. The roof o'the chamber With golden cherubins is fretted: Her andirons* (I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely Depending on their brands +.

Post.

This is her honour!Let it be granted, you have seen all this (and praise Be given to your remembrance,) the description Of what is in her chamber, nothing saves

The wager you have laid.

Iach.

Then if you can,

[Pulling out the bracelet. Be pale; I beg but leave to air this jewel: See! And now 'tis up again: it must be married

To that your diamond; I'll keep them.

Post.

Once more let me behold it: Is it that

Which I left with her?

Jove !—

Iach.
She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;
Here pretty action did outsell her gift,

Sir (I thank her,) that:

And yet enrich'd it too: She gave it me, and said, She priz❜d it once.

Post.

To send it me.

Iach.

May be, she pluck'd it off,

She writes so to you? does she?

Post. O, no, no, no; 'tis true. Here, take this [Gives the ring.

too;

It is a basilisk unto mine eye,

Kills me to look on't :-Let there be no honour, Where there is beauty; truth, where semblance;

love,

Where there's another man: The vows of women Of no more bondage be, to where they are made,

* Ornamented iron bars which support wood burnt in chimneys. + Torches in the hands of Cupids.

Than they are to their virtues; which is nothing:O, above measure, false !

Phi.

Have patience, sir, And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won:

It may be probable, she lost it; or,

Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted, Hath stolen it from her?

Post.

Very true;

And so, I hope, he came by't :-Back my ring ;-
Render to me some corporal sign about her,
More evident than this; for this was stolen.
Iach. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.

Post. Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears. 'Tis true ;-nay, keep the ring-'tis true: I am sure, She would not lose it: her attendants are

All sworn and honourable :-They induc'd to steal it?

And by a stranger?-No, he hath enjoy'd her:
The cognizance* of her inconstancy

Is this,-She hath bought the name of whore thus dearly.

There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you!

Phi.

This is not strong enough to be believ'd

Of one persuaded well of-

Post.

She hath been colted by him.

Iach.

Sir, be patient :

Never talk on't;

If you seek
For further satisfying, under her breast
(Worthy the pressing,) lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging: By my life,
I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her?

Post.

Ay, and it doth confirm Another stain, as big as hell can hold,

Were there no more but it.

lach.

Will

you

hear more?

* The badge; the token.

If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny

Thou hast made me cuckold.

Iach.

I will deny nothing.

Post. 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--

Phi.

[Exit.

Quite besides The government of patience!—you have won : Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath He hath against himself.

Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half workers? We are bastards all;
And that most venerable man, which I

Did call my father, was I know not where
When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit: Yet my mother seem'd
The Dian of that time: so doth my wife

The nonpareil of this.-O vengeance, vengeance !
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd,
And pray'd me, oft, forbearance: did it with
A pudency* so rosy, the sweet view on't

Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought

her

* Modesty.

As chaste as unsunn'd snow :-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, ho and mounted: found no opposition
But what he look'd for should oppose, and she
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 it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,

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

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

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

ACT III.

SCENE I. Britain. A room of state in Cymbeline's palace.

Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords, at one door; 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

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 us, 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, ribb'd aud paled in

With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters;
With sands, that will not bear your enemies' boats,
But suck them up to the top-mast. A kind of con-

quest

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 (0, 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 more 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

* Strumpet.