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Modern English
Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with us?
Now tell me, what does Augustus Caesar want from us?
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, whose memory still Lives in people’s eyes and will always be talked about Was in this Britain and conquered it, Cassibelan, your uncle-- Famous in Caesar’s praises, just as much As for his deeds that earned it--for him And his successors, Rome was granted a yearly tribute Of three thousand pounds, which you, recently, Have failed to pay.
And, to kill the marvel, Shall be so ever.
And, to make it clear, It will always be that way.
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 were many Caesars, But there will never be another Julius. Britain is A world of its own; and we won’t pay For living our own way.
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, ribbed and paled in With rocks unscalable and roaring waters, With sands that will not bear your enemies’ boats, But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of conquest Caesar made here; but made not here his brag Of ’Came’ and ’saw’ and ’overcame: ’ with shame-- That first that ever touch’d him--he was carried From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping-- Poor ignorant baubles!-- upon our terrible seas, Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack’d As easily ’gainst our rocks: for joy whereof The famed 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.
The chance They once had to take from us, to take back We have now. Remember, sir, my lord, The kings who came before you, along with The natural strength of your land, which is like Neptune’s own park, surrounded by Rocks no one can climb and roaring seas, With sands that won’t let your enemies’ ships land, But suck them down to the topmast. Caesar claimed a victory Here, but didn’t boast his ‘Came, saw, conquered’ here— With shame—he was the first to be defeated— He was carried away from our coast, beaten twice; and his ships— Poor, helpless toys!—were tossed on our dangerous seas, Like egg-shells tossed by the waves, easily broken against our rocks: for which joy The famous Cassibelan, who almost— Oh fickle fortune!—defeated Caesar, set the town of Lud ablaze with celebrations And the Britons walked proud with courage.
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.
Enough, there’s no more tribute to pay: our kingdom is stronger than it was back then; and, as I said, there will be no more Caesars like that: others might Have crooked noses, but no one else will have Such strong arms.
Son, let your mother end.
Son, let your mother finish.
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.
We still have many among us who can fight as hard as Cassibelan: I’m not saying I’m one of them; but I do have a Strong 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’ll pay him tribute For light; otherwise, sir, no more tribute, please.
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’ the 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 understand, Until the Romans unfairly forced This tribute from us, we were free: Caesar’s ambition, Which grew so much that it nearly stretched Around the world, did something wrong here By forcing this tribute on us; which to remove We must become a fighting people, as we consider Ourselves to be.
We do.
We do.
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 Caesar’s sword Has damaged too much; whose restoration and freedom Will be our good deed, even if it makes Rome angry: Mulmutius made our laws, He was the first of Britain to wear A golden crown and call himself A king.
I am sorry, Cymbeline, That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar-- Caesar, that hath more 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, But I must tell you that Augustus Caesar— Caesar, who has more kings as his servants than You have domestic officers—is your enemy: Receive it from me, then: I declare war and chaos In Caesar’s name against you: look For fury you won’t be able to stop. Having been defied, I thank you for myself.
Thou art welcome, Caius. Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent Much under him; of him I gather’d honour; Which he to seek of me again, perforce, Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for Their liberties are now in arms; a precedent Which not to read would show the Britons cold: So Caesar shall not find them.
You’re welcome, Caius. Caesar knighted me; I spent much of my youth Under his command; from him, I gained honor; And now, for him to demand it back, I must Speak it clearly. I’m sure That the Pannonians and Dalmatians are now in arms For their freedom; a situation That, if ignored, would make the Britons seem indifferent: So Caesar won’t find them that way.
Let proof speak.
Let’s see the evidence.
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 salt-water girdle: if you beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there’s an end.
His majesty welcomes you. Stay With us for a day or two, or longer: if You come back later with different intentions, You’ll find us in the sea; if you beat us out of it, it’s yours; If you fall in the attempt, our crows will feast on you; And that’s the end of it.
So, sir.
Very well.
I know your master’s pleasure and he mine: All the remain is ’Welcome!’
I know what my master wants, and he knows mine: All that’s left to say is ’Welcome!’