Two other fons; who, in the wars o' th' time,

Dy'd with their fwords in hand: For which, their father,

Then old and fond of iffue, took fuch forrow,
That he quit Being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theam, deceas'd,
As he was born. The King he takes the babe
To his protection, calls him Poftbumus,

Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber;
Puts to him all the Learnings that his time
Could make bim the receiver of, which he took
As we do air, faft as 'twas ministred,

4

And in 's fpring became a harvest: 3 liv'd in Court,
Which rare it is to do, moft prais'd, moft lov'd,
A fample to the young'ft; to th' more mature,
+ A glafs that feared them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,
For whom he now is banifh'd, her own price
Proclaims, how the esteem'd him and his virtue,
By her election may be truly read,
What kind of man he is.

3- -lv'd in Court, Which rare it is to do, most prais'd, moft lov'd,] This encomium is high and artful. To be at once in any great degree loved and praifed is truly rare.

4 A glas that featur'd them;] Such is the reading in all the modern editions, I know not by whom firft fubftituted, for

A glass that feared them :I have difplaced featur'd, though it can plead long prefcription, because I am inclined to think that feared has the better title. Mirrour was a favourite word in that age, for an example, or a pattern, by noting which the anneis were to be formed,

I

as dress is regulated by looking in a glass. When Don Belliarus is ftiled the mirrour of knighthood, the idea given is not that of a glafs in which every knight may behold his own refemblance, but an example to be viewed by knights as often as a glafs is looked upon by girls, to be viewed, that they may know, not what they are, but what they ought to be. Such a glafs may fear the more viature, as difplaying excellencies which they have arrived at maturity without attaining.

To fear, is here, as in other places, to fright.

2 Gent.

2 Gent. I honour him,

Ev'n out of your report. But pray you tell me,
Is fhe fole child to the King?

1 Gent. His only child.

He had two fons, if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it; the eldeft of them at three years old,
I' th' fwathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were ftol'n; and to this hour, no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.

2 Gent. How long is this ago?

1 Gent. Some twenty years.

2 Gent. That a King's children fhould be fo con-
vey'd,

So flackly guarded, and the fearch fo flow
That could not trace them.

1 Gent. Howfoe'er 'tis ftrange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it true, Sir.

2 Gent. I do well believe you.

I Gent. We must forbear. Here comes the Gentle

man,

The Queen, and Princess.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

I.

Enter the Queen, Pofthumus, Imogen, and Attendants.

Queen. No, be affur'd, you fhall not find me, daughter,

After the flander of most step-mothers,

Evil-ey'd unto you. You're my pris'ner, but
Your gaoler fhall deliver you the keys

That lock'd up your reftraint. For you, Pofthumus,
So foon as I can win th' offended King,

I will be known your advocate; marry, yet,
The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good,
You lean'd unto his Sentence, with what patience
Your wifdom

may

inform you.

S 3

Poft.

Poft. Please your Highness,

I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril :

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections; though the King
Hath charg'd, you should not speak together. [Exit.
Imo. Diffembling courtely! how fine this tyrant
Can tickle, where the wounds! My deareft hufband,
I fomething fear my father' wrath, but nothing,
5 Always reserv'd my holy duty, what
You must be gone,
And I fhall here abide the hour y fhot
Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may fee again.

His rage can do on me.

Poft. My Queen! my Miftrefs!

O lady, weep no more, left I give cause
To be fufpected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man. I will remain
The loyall'it husband, that did e'er plight troth.
My refidence in Rome, at one Philario's ;
Who to my father was a friend, to me

C

Known but by letter. Thither write, my Queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you fend,
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter Queen.

Queen. Be brief, I pray you;

If the King come, I fhall incur I know not

How much of his difpleasure. Yet I'll move him

5 Always refera'd my holy duty, -] I fay I do not fear my father, fo far as I may fay it without breach of duty.

Though ink be made of gall.]

[Afide.

Shakespeare, even in this poor conceit, has confounded the vegetable calls ufed in ink, with the animal gall, fuppofed to be bitter.

Το

To walk this way; I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends
Pays dear for my offences

Poft. Should we be taking leave,

As long a term as yet we have to live,

The lothness to depart would grow,—Adieu!
Imo. Nay, ftay a little-

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,

[Exit.

Such Parting were too petty. Look here, Love,
This diamond was my mother's; take it, heart,
But keep it till you woo another wife,

When Imogen is dead.

Poft. How, how, another!

You gentle Gods, give me but this I have,
And fear up my embracements from a next

With bonds of death. Remain, remain thou here

[Putting on the ring.
While fenfe can keep thee on! and Sweetest, Fairest,
As I my poor felf did exchange for you,
To your fo infinite lofs; fo, in our trifles

I still win of you. For my fake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love, I'll place it

Upon this faireft pris'ner.

Imo. O, the Gods!

When fhall we see again?

Putting a bracelet on her arm,

Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Poft. Alack, the King!

Cym. Thou bafeft thing, avoid! hence! from my

fight!

If, after this Command, thou fraught the Court
With thy unworthinefs, thou dy't. Away!

S 4

Thou'rt

1

Thou 'rt poifon to my blood.

Poft. The Gods protect you,

And bless the good remainders of the Court!

I'm gone.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.

Cym. O difloyal thing,

That shouldft repair my youth, thou heap'st
7 A year's age on me.

Imo. I beseech you, Sir,

Harm not yourfelf with your Vexation;

I'm fenfelefs of your wrath;
Subdues all pangs, all fears.
Cym. Paft grace? obedience?

[Exit

Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way, paft

grace.

Cym. Thou might'ft have had the fole fon of

Queen.

my

Imo. O, bleft, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my Throne

Subdues all pangs, all fears.] Rare is ufed often for eminently good; but I do not remember any paffage in which it stands for eminently bad. May we read,

-a touch more near. Cura Deam propior luctufque domesticus angit. OVID. Shall we try again,

-a touch more rear. Crudum vulnus. But of this I know not any example.

There is yet another interpretation, which perhaps will remove the difficulty. A touch more rare, may mean, a nobler paffion. 9-a puttock.] A kite.