Now say, what would Augustus Cæsar with us?
So tell me, what does Augustus Caesar want from us?
So what does Augustus Caesar want with us?
what does caesar want
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.
When Julius Caesar—whose memory still lives in people's eyes and will be spoken of forever—was in Britain and conquered it, your uncle Cassibelan, who was as famous for Caesar's praise as he deserved to be for his actions, made an agreement with Rome. He granted a yearly tribute of three thousand pounds for himself and his descendants, which you recently haven't paid.
When Julius Caesar—the guy everyone still remembers and will talk about forever—came to Britain and conquered it, your uncle Cassibelan made a deal. He was just as famous for getting Caesar's praise as he was for earning it through his actions. He agreed that Rome would get three thousand pounds every year from him and his descendants. And you haven't been paying that lately.
julius caesar conquered us ur uncle agreed to annual tribute u stopped paying
And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
And to put an end to any wonder about it, it will stay that way forever.
And just to be clear, it's going to stay that way permanently.
and it stays that way
There be many Cæsars ere such another Julius. Britain is a world by
itself, and we will nothing pay for wearing our own noses.
Many Caesars will come and go before another one is as great as Julius. Britain is its own world, and we won't pay anyone just for the right to be ourselves.
There will be tons of Caesars before another one is as great as Julius. Britain is basically its own planet, and we're not paying anyone for the privilege of being who we are.
no more caesars like julius we're our own world no tribute
Cloten keeps interrupting with absurd boasts — crooked-nosed Caesars, straight arms, crows eating Roman corpses. He's trying to perform martial confidence, but what emerges is pure bluster. The genius of the scene is that his crudeness is not just comic; it's politically consequential. His boasts about British strength will seem ridiculous once Rome invades. More importantly, the court's decision to refuse tribute is built partly on this bluster. Cymbeline listens to Cloten's trash talk and decides to go to war. The play suggests that bad intelligence and masculine pride, not strategy, drive the decision.
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, ribb’d and pal’d in
With rocks unscaleable and roaring waters,
With sands that will not bear your enemies’ boats
But suck them up to th’ top-mast. A kind of conquest
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, giglot fortune!) to master Cæsar’s sword,
Made Lud’s Town with rejoicing fires bright
And Britons strut with courage.
We now have the same chance to take back what they wanted to take from us then. Remember, my lord, your royal ancestors and the natural strength of your island, which stands like Neptune's domain, surrounded by unscaleable rocks and roaring waters, with sands that won't even hold your enemies' boats but suck them down to the top of the mast. Caesar did conquer here, but he couldn't brag about it in his famous way—'I came, I saw, I overcame.' He was carried away from our coast in shame (the first time he ever experienced it), beaten twice. His ships, like poor stupid eggshells, were tossed on our terrible seas and cracked against our rocks as easily as eggs. From this joy, the famous Cassibelan, who almost got Caesar's sword for himself, lit the fires of Lud's Town bright in celebration, and the Britons walked with pride.
We have the same power now to take back what they wanted to steal from us then. Remember, my lord, your ancestors and how naturally strong and powerful this island is. It's like Neptune's own domain—surrounded by impossible-to-climb rocks and raging waters, with beaches that don't hold enemy boats but pull them down by the mast. Caesar did invade here, but he never got to use his famous line—'I came, I saw, I conquered.' Instead he had to leave our shore in total embarrassment (first time that ever happened to him), beaten twice. His whole fleet, like stupid eggshells, got tossed around on our wild seas and smashed against our rocks as easily as you'd crack an egg. That's why the great Cassibelan, who almost caught Caesar's sword, lit up London in celebration fires, and all the Britons walked around proud as anything.
ur ancestors beat caesar twice he left in shame britain's naturally strong thats why we should be proud now
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 Cæsars. Other
of them may have crook’d noses; but to owe such straight arms, none.
That's it, no more tribute will be paid. Our kingdom is stronger now than it was then. And as I said, there's no Caesar like that one anymore. Other Caesars might have crooked noses, but there's nobody with arms as strong and impressive as his.
No more tribute—end of story. Britain is way stronger now than it was back then. Like I said, there's no Caesar like Julius anymore. Sure, other Caesars might have weird noses, but nobody's got arms as powerful and impressive as Julius did.
no more tribute we're stronger now no other caesars like julius
Son, let your mother end.
Son, let your mother finish.
Let your mother speak.
let mom 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
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,
pray you now.
We still have many among us who can grip as hard as Cassibelan. I'm not saying I'm one of them, but I have hands. Why pay tribute? Why should we pay? If Caesar can hide the sun with a blanket or put the moon in his pocket, then we'll pay him for the light. Otherwise, no more tribute, I'm asking you.
We've still got plenty of strong guys who can fight as hard as Cassibelan did. Not saying I'm one of them, but I've got hands. Why pay tribute? Why should we? If Caesar can block out the sun with a blanket or put the moon in his pocket, then fine, we'll pay for light. But no other way—no more tribute, please.
we have strong fighters too why pay tribute no reason to pay
You must know,
Till the injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free. Cæsar’s ambition,
Which swell’d so much that it did almost stretch
The sides o’ th’ 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 that until the harmful Romans extorted this tribute from us, we were free. Caesar's ambition, which was so huge it almost stretched the sides of the world, wrongfully put us under his rule. It's right for a warlike people, which we believe we are, to shake off that yoke.
You need to understand something. Before the Romans forced this tribute on us, we were completely free. Caesar's ambition was so enormous it almost split the world in half, and he used it to put us under his control. It's only right for a warrior nation—and that's what we are—to throw off that control.
we were free b4 rome forced tribute shaking off the yoke is what warriors do
We do.
We do.
we do.
we do....
Lucius begins by invoking Julius Caesar's historical conquest of Britain as a precedent for Rome's current dominion. Cymbeline counters by invoking Mulmutius, a legendary ancestor, as proof of Britain's ancient independence. What's interesting is that neither side is arguing about facts — they're both performing historical authority. Cymbeline's response essentially says: yes, Rome conquered us once, but we are restoring what was ours before. The Queen supports this by adding: and we are stronger now. The play uses history not as truth but as rhetoric — as a tool each side uses to justify its position.
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. 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.
Tell Caesar this: our ancestor was Mulmutius, who created our laws. Caesar's sword has damaged those laws too much. We will repair them and restore our freedom, which will be a good thing for us, even if Rome gets angry about it. Mulmutius created our laws. He was the first person in Britain to wear a golden crown and call himself a king.
Tell Caesar: our ancestor Mulmutius made our laws. Caesar's sword has messed them up way too much. We're going to fix them and get our freedom back—that's our good deed to ourselves, even if Rome gets mad. Mulmutius was the one who made our laws. He was the first person in Britain to ever put on a golden crown and call himself a king.
tell caesar: mulmutius made our laws we're fixing what caesar broke first king of britain
I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar
(Cæsar, that hath moe kings his servants than
Thyself domestic officers) thine enemy.
Receive it from me, then: war and confusion
In Cæsar’s name pronounce I ’gainst thee; look
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.
I'm sorry, Cymbeline, that I must declare Augustus Caesar—Caesar, who has more kings as his servants than you have domestic officers—to be your enemy. Accept this from me then: I declare war and chaos against you in Caesar's name. Prepare yourself for unstoppable force. Being defied like this, I thank you on my own behalf.
I'm sorry, Cymbeline, but I have to tell you that Augustus Caesar—this guy who has more kings working for him than you have household staff—is now your enemy. Take this from me: I'm officially declaring war and total chaos against you in Caesar's name. Get ready for overwhelming force. And for defying him like this, I actually want to thank you personally.
augustus caesar is ur enemy now war in his name brace for total force
Thou art welcome, Caius.
Thy Cæsar 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 Cæsar shall not find them.
You're welcome, Caius. Caesar made me a knight. I spent much of my youth under him and gained honor from him. If he wants that honor back from me by force, then I have to defend it with everything I have. I'm certain that the Pannonians and Dalmatians are already fighting for their freedom, and if we didn't follow their example, it would prove the Britons are cowardly. That's not what Caesar will find in us.
Welcome, Caius. Caesar knighted me. I spent a lot of my youth serving under him and got honor from him. If he wants to take that honor back by force, I have to stand and fight with everything I've got. I know for certain that the Pannonians and Dalmatians are already fighting for their freedom, and if we didn't do the same, it would make Britons look like cowards. That's not what Caesar's going to find in us.
caesar knighted me if he wants it back by force im ready to fight other peoples are already fighting
Let proof speak.
Let proof speak.
let proof speak.
let proof speak....
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. Spend a day or two with us, or longer if you like. If you come back looking for us again with different intentions, you'll find us surrounded by our ocean. If you drive us out of our island, it's yours to take. If you die in the attempt, the crows will have a good meal from you. And that's all there is to it.
The king welcomes you. Hang out with us for a couple days or however long. But if you come back looking for us later with warfare on your mind, you'll find us here on our island surrounded by ocean. If you manage to kick us out, the island is yours. If you get killed trying, the crows will eat well. That's it.
stay a couple days come back for war we're on our island crows will eat u if u die
So, sir.
So, sir.
so, sir.
so, sir.
I know your master’s pleasure, and he mine;
All the remain is, welcome.
I know what your master wants, and he knows what I want. The only thing left to say is: welcome.
I understand what your boss wants, and he understands what I want. All that's left to do is welcome you.
we understand each other welcome
The Reckoning
This is purely political theater — the moment when the play's political crisis moves from background to foreground. The historical echoes of Julius Caesar and Cassibelan are invoked, but the immediate action is about Cloten's mouth and Cymbeline's stubbornness. Cloten almost steals the scene with crude boasts about straight arms and salt-water girdles, but what matters is the structural moment: Rome and Britain have gone from cold war to hot. The play is now fighting on two fronts — the personal crisis (Imogen's danger) and the political crisis (Britain invaded).
If this happened today…
An ambassador arrives from a superpower with a demand for tribute. The king's court must decide whether to pay or fight. One advisor keeps interrupting with crude boasts about strength. Another advisor (the Queen) pushes for war. The king, remembering his own service to Rome, refuses the demand. The ambassador leaves knowing it means war.