 | Cymbeline |  |
38
SCENE III.
A Palace.Enter in State, 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 was in Britain,
Cassibelan thine Uncle, did for him,
And his Succession, grant to 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.
Clot.
There be many Cæsars,
Ere such another Julius: Britain's a World
By itself, and we will nothing pay
For wearing our own Noses.
Tribute? Why should we pay Tribute? If Cæsar 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.
Cym.
You must know,
'Till the injurious Romans did extort
This Tribute, we were free. Say then to Cæsar,
Our Ancestor was that Mulmutius, which
Ordain'd our Laws, whose use the Sword of Cæsar
Hath too much mangled; whose repair and franchise,
Shall by the Power we hold be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry.
Luc.
I am sorry,
That I am to pronounce, Augustus Cæsar,
Cymbeline's Eenemy. War, and Confusion
In Cæsar's Name pronounce I 'gainst thee: Look
For Fury, not to be resisted. Thus defy'd,
I thank thee for myself.
Cym.
Thou art welcome, Caius.
Clot.
His Majesty bids you welcome. Make Pastime
with us a Day, or two, or longer: If you seek us afterwards
in other Terms, you shall find us in our Saltwater
Girdle: If you beat us out of it, it is yours: if
39
better for you: And there's an end.
Luc.
So, Sir.
Cym.
I know your Master's Pleasure, and he mine:
All the Remain, is welcome.
[Exeunt.
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