Look through a casement to allure false hearts
And be false with them.
IACHIMO Here are letters for you.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Their tenor good, I trust.
IACHIMO ‘Tis very like.
PHILARIO Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court
When you were there?
IACHIMO He was expected then,
But not approach’d.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS All is well yet.
Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is’t not
Too dull for your good wearing?
IACHIMO If I had lost it,
I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I’ll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness which
Was mine in Britain, for the ring is won.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS The stone’s too hard to come by.
IACHIMO Not a whit,
Your lady being so easy.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Make not, sir,
Your loss your sport: I hope you know that we
Must not continue friends.
IACHIMO Good sir, we must,
If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question further: but I now
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring; and not the wronger
Of her or you, having proceeded but
By both your wills.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS If you can make’t apparent
That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
And ring is yours; if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure honour gains or loses
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both
To who shall find them.
IACHIMO Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe: whose strength
I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not,
You’ll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Proceed.
IACHIMO First, her bedchamber,–
Where, I confess, I slept not, but profess
Had that was well worth watching–it was hang’d
With tapesty of silk and silver; the story
Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman,
And Cydnus swell’d above the banks, or for
The press of boats or pride: a piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship and value; which I wonder’d
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
Since the true life on’t was–
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS This is true;
And this you might have heard of here, by me,
Or by some other.
IACHIMO More particulars
Must justify my knowledge.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS So they must,
Or do your honour injury.
IACHIMO The chimney
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.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS This is a thing
Which you might from relation likewise reap,
Being, as it is, much spoke of.
IACHIMO 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.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS 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.
IACHIMO Then, if you can,
Showing 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.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Jove!
Once more let me behold it: is it that
Which I left with her?
IACHIMO 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 prized it once.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS May be she pluck’d it off
To send it me.
IACHIMO She writes so to you, doth she?
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS O, no, no, no! ’tis true. Here, take this too;
Gives the ring
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!
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 of her women, being corrupted,
Hath stol’n it from her?
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS 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.
IACHIMO By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS 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 enjoyed 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!
PHILARIO Sir, be patient:
This is not strong enough to be believed
Of one persuaded well of–
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Never talk on’t;
She hath been colted 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?
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.
IACHIMO Will you hear more?
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS Spare your arithmetic: never count the turns;
Once, and a million!
IACHIMO I’ll be sworn–
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS 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.
IACHIMO I’ll deny nothing.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS 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–
Exit
PHILARIO Quite besides
The government of patience! You have won:
Let’s follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.
IACHIMO With an my heart.
Exeunt
Scene 5
Another room in Philario’s house.
Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS 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,–wast 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 may be named, 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
Act 3
Scene 1
Britain. A hall in Cymbeline’s palace.
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?
CAIUS 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.
QUEEN And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
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.