Post.

So they must,

The chimney

Or do your honour injury.

Iach.

Is south the chamber; and the chimney-piece,
Chaste Dian, bathing: never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves: the cutter
Was as another Nature, dumb; outwent her,
Motion and breath left out.

Post.

This is a thing,

Which you might from relation likewise reap;
Being, as it is, much spoke of.

The roof o'the chamber

Iach.
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 t.

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?

Iach.

Jove!

Sir (I thank her), that:

She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;

Her pretty action did outsell her gift,

And yet enrich'd it too: She gave it me, and said,

She priz'd it once.

Post.

To send it me.

May be, she pluck'd it off,

* Ornamented iron bars which support wood burnt in chimneys.

↑ Torches in the hands of Cupids.

Iach.

She writes so to you? doth 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, 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 incontinency

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.

lach.

Sir, be patient:

Never talk on't;

If you seek

The badge; the token.

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.

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, aud 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

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, oh! 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;
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 bate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better.

[Exit.

* Modesty.

ACT III.

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

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

Cym. Now say,

us?

what would Augustus Cæsar with

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 Is left untender'd.

Queen.

Shall be so ever.

Clo.

And, to kill the marvel,

There be many Cæsars,

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, ribbed and 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