Speeches (Lines) for Caius Lucius in "Cymbeline"
Total: 25
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Act, Scene, Line
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Speech text |
1 |
III,1,1412 |
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.
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2 |
III,1,1477 |
Cymbeline. 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.
Caius Lucius. 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.
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3 |
III,1,1494 |
Cymbeline. 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.
Caius Lucius. Let proof speak.
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4 |
III,1,1502 |
Cloten. 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.
Caius Lucius. So, sir.
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5 |
III,5,1945 |
Cymbeline. Thus far; and so farewell.
Caius Lucius. Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence;
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master's enemy.
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6 |
III,5,1953 |
Cymbeline. Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unkinglike.
Caius Lucius. So, sir: I desire of you
A conduct over-land to Milford-Haven.
Madam, all joy befal your grace!
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7 |
III,5,1960 |
Cymbeline. My lords, you are appointed for that office;
The due of honour in no point omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.
Caius Lucius. Your hand, my lord.
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8 |
III,5,1963 |
Cloten. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
I wear it as your enemy.
Caius Lucius. Sir, the event
Is yet to name the winner: fare you well.
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9 |
IV,2,2744 |
Roman Captain. To them the legions garrison'd in Gailia,
After your will, have cross'd the sea, attending
You here at Milford-Haven with your ships:
They are in readiness.
Caius Lucius. But what from Rome?
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10 |
IV,2,2750 |
Roman Captain. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners
And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits,
That promise noble service: and they come
Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,
Syenna's brother.
Caius Lucius. When expect you them?
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11 |
IV,2,2752 |
Roman Captain. With the next benefit o' the wind.
Caius Lucius. This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir,
What have you dream'd of late of this war's purpose?
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12 |
IV,2,2763 |
Soothsayer. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision—
I fast and pray'd for their intelligence—thus:
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends—
Unless my sins abuse my divination—
Success to the Roman host.
Caius Lucius. Dream often so,
And never false. Soft, ho! what trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How! a page!
Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead rather;
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let's see the boy's face.
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13 |
IV,2,2772 |
Roman Captain. He's alive, my lord.
Caius Lucius. He'll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou makest thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
What art thou?
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14 |
IV,2,2788 |
Imogen. I am nothing: or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas!
There is no more such masters: I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.
Caius Lucius. 'Lack, good youth!
Thou movest no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.
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15 |
IV,2,2796 |
Imogen. Richard du Champ.
[Aside]
If I do lie and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
They'll pardon it.—Say you, sir?
Caius Lucius. Thy name?
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16 |
IV,2,2798 |
Imogen. Fidele, sir.
Caius Lucius. Thou dost approve thyself the very same:
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well master'd, but, be sure,
No less beloved. The Roman emperor's letters,
Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee: go with me.
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17 |
IV,2,2813 |
Imogen. I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods,
I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd his grave,
And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh;
And leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.
Caius Lucius. Ay, good youth!
And rather father thee than master thee.
My friends,
The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave: come, arm him. Boy, he is preferr'd
By thee to us, and he shall be interr'd
As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
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18 |
V,2,3014 |
Guiderius. [with Arviragus] Stand, stand, and fight!
[Re-enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, and seconds the]
Britons: they rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then
re-enter LUCIUS, and IACHIMO, with IMOGEN]
Caius Lucius. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself;
For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such
As war were hoodwink'd.
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19 |
V,2,3018 |
Iachimo. 'Tis their fresh supplies.
Caius Lucius. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes
Let's reinforce, or fly.
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20 |
V,5,3458 |
Cymbeline. Mine eyes
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,
That thought her like her seeming; it had
been vicious
To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!
That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
[Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and other]
Roman Prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
behind, and IMOGEN]
Thou comest not, Caius, now for tribute that
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
Of you their captives, which ourself have granted:
So think of your estate.
Caius Lucius. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool,
have threaten'd
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be call'd ransom, let it come: sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
Augustus lives to think on't: and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat; my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransom'd: never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
With my request, which I make bold your highness
Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have served a Roman: save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
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21 |
V,5,3487 |
Imogen. I humbly thank your highness.
Caius Lucius. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad;
And yet I know thou wilt.
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22 |
V,5,3493 |
Imogen. No, no: alack,
There's other work in hand: I see a thing
Bitter to me as death: your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself.
Caius Lucius. The boy disdains me,
He leaves me, scorns me: briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplex'd?
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23 |
V,5,3867 |
Imogen. My good master,
I will yet do you service.
Caius Lucius. Happy be you!
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24 |
V,5,3902 |
Posthumus Leonatus. Your servant, princes. Good my lord of Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer: as I slept, methought
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred: when I waked, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it: let him show
His skill in the construction.
Caius Lucius. Philarmonus!
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25 |
V,5,3904 |
Soothsayer. Here, my good lord.
Caius Lucius. Read, and declare the meaning.
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