Than they are to their virtues, which is nothing.
O, above measure false!
Oh no, no, no! It's true. Here take this too;
[gives the ring]
it's like a basilisk to my eyes,
it kills me to look at it. Let there be no honour
where there is beauty; no truth where there is appearance;
no love where there's another man. The vows of women
are no more binding to them
then they are bound to their virtues: which is not at all.
Oh, false beyond measure!
PHILARIO.
Have patience, sir,
And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won.
It may be probable she lost it, or
Who knows if one her women, being corrupted
Hath stol'n it from her?
Calm yourself, Sir,
and take the ring back; it hasn't been won yet.
Maybe she lost it, or
who knows if one of her women, bribed,
stole it from her?
POSTHUMUS.
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 stol'n.
Very true;
I hope that's how he came by it. Give me back my ring.
Tell me some physical evidence about her,
stronger than this; this was stolen.
IACHIMO.
By Jupiter, I had it from her arm!
By Jupiter, I had it off her arm!
POSTHUMUS.
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 induced to steal it!
And by a stranger! No, he hath enjoy'd her.
The cognisance of her incontinence
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!
Listen, he swears; he swears by Jupiter.
It's true–no, keep the ring, it's true. I'm sure
she would not lose it. Her attendants are
all sworn to loyalty and honourable- they were bribed to steal it!
And by a stranger! No, he has had her.
this is proof of her infidelity:
she has paid dearly to get herself the name of whore.
There, take your winnings; and may the devils of hell
divide themselves between you and her!
PHILARIO.
Sir, be patient;
This is not strong enough to be believed
Of one persuaded well of.
Sir, be patient;
this is not strong enough evidence
against someone who you thought so well of.
POSTHUMUS.
Never talk on't;
She hath been colted by him.
Don't talk about it;
she has been knocked up by him.
IACHIMO.
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?
If you would like
further proof, under her breast–
well worth squeezing–there is a mole, very happy
in its delightful situation. I swear,
I kissed it; and it gave me the desire
to feed again, although I had had my fill. Do you remember
this mark on her?
POSTHUMUS.
Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.
Yes, and it proves the existence
of another black mark, that would fill the whole of hell,
even if it was the only thing there.
IACHIMO.
Will you hear more?
Do you want to hear more?
POSTHUMUS.
Spare your arithmetic; never count the turns.
Once, and a million!
Don't bother adding it up; don't count the turns.
Once is as bad as a million.
IACHIMO.
I'll be sworn-
I shall swear–
POSTHUMUS.
No swearing.
If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
And I will kill thee if thou dost deny
Thou'st made me cuckold.
Don't swear.
If you're going to say you haven't done it, you're lying;
and I will kill you if you deny
that you have cheated with my wife.
IACHIMO.
I'll deny nothing.
I won't deny anything.
POSTHUMUS.
O that I had her here to tear her limb-meal!
I will go there and do't, i' th' court, before
Her father. I'll do something-
Exit
I wish I had here to tear her limb from limb!
I will go there and do it, in the court, in front of
her father. I'll do something–
PHILARIO.
Quite besides
The government of patience! You have won.
Let's follow him and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.
Well beyond
the reach of calm! You have won.
Let's follow him and make sure he doesn't
do himself any harm in his anger.
IACHIMO.
With all my heart.
Exeunt
Certainly.
Enter POSTHUMUS
POSTHUMUS.
Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? We are all bastards,
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
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,
Cried 'O!' 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 longing, slanders, mutability,
All faults that man may name, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part or all; but rather all;
For even 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
Is there no way for men to
be created, without women
doing half the job? We're all bastards,
and that great man who I called my father
was somewhere else when I was conceived. Some forger
uses tools to make me a fake; even though my mother seemed
as chaste as Diana at the time. My wife
is the worst example of this. Oh, revenge, revenge!
She didn't let me have my marital rights,
and often begged me to be patient; she did it with
such rosy modesty, the sweet view of it
might have warmed old Saturn; so I thought she
was as pure as an melted snow. Oh, all the devils!
This sallow faced Iachimo in one hour–wasn't it?
Or less!–Got what he wanted. Perhaps he said nothing, but,
like a well fed boar, a German one,
shouted ‘oh!’ and jumped on; he found no opposition
where he should have done and where she
should have kept intruders out. I wish I could discover
my female half! For there is nothing in men
which causes vice which doesn't come from
the mother. If it's lying, you can see,
that comes from women; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
lust and filthy thoughts, hers, hers; revenge, hers;
ambition, coveting, mood swings, contempt,
greedy desires, slander, changeability,
all the faults that man can name, no, that hell knows,
why, they're hers, partly or completely; actually completely;
even in vice
they are not constant, but are always changing
one vice, just a minute old, for one
not half as old as that. I'll write against them,
detest them, curse them. But actually it's better,
if you really hate them, to pray they get what they want:
that way they'll get more punishment.
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?
Now tell me, what does Augustus Caesar what with us?
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,
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
Is left untender'd.
When Julius Caesar–who is still remembered
and will be always talked of
forever–was here in Britain,
and conquered it, Cassibelan, your uncle,
who got great praise from Caesar, and certainly
deserved it for what he did, promised that he
and his successors would give Rome a tribute
of three thousand pounds a year, which recently
you haven't paid.
QUEEN.
And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
And, in case you're wondering,
it never will be paid.
CLOTEN.
There be many Caesars
Ere such another Julius. Britain is
A world by itself, and we will nothing pay
For wearing our own noses.
There will be many Caesars
before another one like Julius comes. Britain is
independent, and we will pay nothing
for living in our own homes.
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, ribb'd and pal'd in
With rocks unscalable and roaring waters,
With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats
But suck them up to th' top-mast. A kind of conquest
Caesar 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 Caesar's sword,
Made Lud's Town with rejoicing fires bright
And Britons strut with courage.
We now have the chance
to take back what they took from us.
Remember, sir, my lord,
your royal ancestors, and also
natural defences of your island, which stands
in the middle of the sea, fenced in
by unclimbable cliffs and roaring waters,
with sands that will not hold your enemies' boats
but will suck them in up to the mast. Caesar had
a kind of victory here, but it wasn't here that he made his boast
of ‘I came, I saw, I conquered.’ He was carried
away from our coast having been beaten twice,
and shamed, the first time it had ever happened to him;
and his ships–ill-equipped toys! - were thrown around
like eggshells on the tides of our terrible seas, and cracked
like eggshells against our rocks; out of joy at that
the famous Cassibelan, who once almost–
what a tart fortune is!–managed to defeat Caesar,
made London town bright with victory bonfires,
and the British people strutted bravely.
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 them may have crook'd noses; but
to
owe such straight arms, none.
Come, we no longer need to pay tribute. Our kingdom is
stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there are
no longer leaders like Julius. Some of them might have the same crooked noses,
but none of them have such strong arms.
CYMBELINE.
Son, let your mother end.
Son, let your mother finish.
CLOTEN.
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 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.
There are many of us who can fight as hard as Cassibelan.
I'm not claiming to be one; but I have hands. Why tribute? Why should
we pay tribute? If Caesar could hide the sun from us with a blanket,
or put themoon in his pocket, we would pay him a tax for the light;
otherwise, sir, no more tribute, I beg you.
CYMBELINE.
You must know,
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' th' world- against all colour here
Did put the yoke upon's; which to shake off
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves
to be.
You must know,
until the insulting Romans extorted
this tribute from us, we were free. Caesar's ambition–
which was so inflated that it almost covered
the whole world–without any pretence of justice
put us in chains; to shake them off
is what a warlike people should do, and that's what we
think of ourselves as.
CLOTEN.
We do.
We do.
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
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.
So tell Caesar,
our ancestor was Mulmutius who
established our laws–which have been too
mangled by Roman occupation; we shall mend them
and put them into practice, using our power, and this shall be
the good deed will be remembered for, however angry Rome gets.
Mulmutius made our laws, the first Briton to put
a crown on his head and call
himself king.
LUCIUS.
I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar-
Caesar, that hath moe kings his servants than
Thyself domestic officers- thine enemy.
Receive it from me, then: war and confusion
In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee; look
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.
I am sorry, Cymbeline,
that I have to tell you that Augustus Caesar–
Caesar, who has more kings as his servants than
you have servants in your house–is your enemy.
Take it from me, then: I am declaring war
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 506