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ENGLISH HISTORY AS TOLD BY

ENGLISH POETS

CYMBELINE

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

CUNOBELINUS, king of the Trinovantes, was the most powerful of the British chiefs known to Roman historians. He was grandson to the Cassivelaunus who had fought successfully against Julius Cæsar. One of his sons, Caractacus, for nine years defied the Roman army that, under Aulus Plautius, finally conquered the Britons. There is no further historical basis for Shakespeare's play. The scene represents the reception (43 A.D.) of Caius Lucius, the emissary of the emperor, at the court of Cymbeline. Lucius demands a renewal of the tribute paid to Julius Cæsar, and regards Cymbeline's refusal as amounting to a declaration of war.

ACT III

SCENE I. BRITAIN. A Room of State in Cymbeline's Palace.

(Enter, at one side, Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords; at the other, 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 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 '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, ribbèd and palèd in

With rocks unscalable 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, -
O, giglot1 fortune! - to master Cæsar's sword,

1 fickle.

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