payment page
A kind of conquest
Caesar made here, but made not here his brag
Of “came, and saw, and overcame.” With shame—
The first that ever touched him—he was carried
From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping,
Poor ignorant baubles, on our terrible seas
Like eggshells moved upon their surges, cracked
As easily ’gainst our rocks. (3.1.25–32)
At the top of act 3, Cymbeline, the Queen, and Cloten meet with the Roman representative, Lucius Caius, who has come to Britain to demand payment of the annual tribute. In these lines, the Queen argues vehemently against paying this tribute. Although at this point in British history the island was officially a province of the Roman Empire, the Queen insists that no emperor had ever truly conquered Britain. She specifically invokes the famous phrase attributed to Julius Caesar—Veni, vidi, vici—to claim that whatever “kind of conquest / Caesar made here” was never total. The land and sea had themselves conspired to drive the emperor away from British shores, preserving its independence. As the scene progresses, Cloten will echo his mother’s argument, and Cymbeline, accepting their influence, will formally declare independence from Rome. That such a declaration may have been unwise and overhasty is implicitly suggested by the Queen’s wickedness and Cloten’s oafishness.
O, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check,
Richer than doing nothing for a robe,
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
Such gain the cap of him that makes him fine
Yet keeps his book uncrossed. No life to ours. (3.3.23–28)
Belarius addresses these words to his adopted sons. His discourse of freedom echoes the discourse of independence we’ve just heard used in the court at the beginning of act 3. In Belarius’s case, however, it’s notable that his notion of freedom is specifically a freedom from the court, and perhaps from Britain as well. His retreat to the Welsh countryside would have had an implicit significance for audiences in Shakespeare’s time. Not only would they have associated this land with fairies and magic. They would also know that the Welsh, along with the Scottish, had fought valiantly to resist British colonization in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries—this being the chief political conflict in Shakespeare’s famous tetralogy of history plays: Richard III; Henry IV, Part 1; Henry IV, Part 2; and Henry V. But for all that Belarius celebrates the nobility of country life, it’s notable that his sons question his preference for the country. Never having experienced life at court, they wish to find a more balanced perspective. Otherwise, the supposed freedom of the country is little more than a prison—“a cell of ignorance” (3.3.36).
Well,
My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar
And to the Roman Empire, promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen,
Whom heavens in justice both on her and hers
Have laid most heavy hand. (5.5.558–65)
In the play’s final moments, and despite having won the war and hence secured its independence from Rome, Cymbeline announces his decision to resume payment of the tribute. Though from a modern perspective this decision seems very puzzling indeed, the king’s reasoning has symbolic importance. He notes that his initial decision to stop payments and assert independence was due to the influence of “our wicked Queen.” The “most heavy hand” she laid on him tipped the balance of power perhaps a bit too far, albeit in the right direction. Now that Britain has asserted its independence, it’s in a better position to reenter relations with Rome on more equal footing. Importantly, the decision to resume payment may also be understood as the properly Christian thing to do. Cymbline’s historical model, Cunobeline (r. 9–40 CE), ruled during Christ’s lifetime, and the king’s decision to resume tribute may be interpreted as a move to restore peaceful relations according to Christ’s famous dictum in the Bible: “Render . . . unto Caesar the things which be Caesar’s” (Luke 20:25).
