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discharge :-Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows.

Poft. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live.

Gaol. Indeed, fir, he that seeps feels not the tooth-ach: But a man that were to Neep your neep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for, look you, fir, you know not which way you shall go.

Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow.

Geol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have not seen him so pictur’d: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or 'jump the after-enquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think, you'll never return to tell one.

Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes, to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them.

Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking.

Enter a Messenger. Mes. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king.

Poft. Thou bring'st good news; I am call'd to be made free.

Gaol. I'll be hang'd then.

Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt Posthumus, and Messenger.

Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and

-jump the after-enquiry-) That is, venture at it without thought. So Macbeth: We'd jump the life to come." JOANSON.

beget

beget young gibbets, ’ I never saw one fo prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman: and there be some of them too, that die against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good ; O, there were desolation of gaolers, and gallowses ! I speak against my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment in't. [Exit.

SCENE

Cymbeline's tent.

Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus,

Pisanio, and Lords. Cym. Stand by my side, you, whom the gods have

made Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast Stept before targe of proof, cannot be found :

- I never saw one fo prone. -] i. e. forward. In this sense the word is used in Wilfride Holme's poem, entitled The Fall and evil Success of Rebellion, &c. 9537 :

“ Thus lay they in Doncatter, with curtal and serpentine,

• With bombard and basilisk, with men prone and vigorows." Again in Sir A. Gorges' tranflation of the fixth book of Lucan:

Theffalian fierie iteeds “ For use of war so prone and fit." STEVENS. 3 Scene V.) Let those who talk so confidently about the skill of Shakspeare's contemporary, Jonson, point out the conclufion of any one of his plays which is wrought with more artifice, and yet a less degree of dramatic violence than this. In the scene before us, all the surviving characters are assembled ; and at the expence of whatever incongruity the former events may have been produced, perhaps little can be discovered on this occasion to offend the most scrupulous advocate for regularity : and, I think, as little is found wanting to satisfy the spectator by a catastrophe which is intricate without confufion, and not more rich in ornament than in nature.

STEEVENS.

He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our

grace can make him fo.
Bel. I never saw
Such noble fury in so poor a thing;
Such precious deeds in * one that promis'd nought
But beggary and poor looks.

Cym. No tidings of him?
Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and

living,
But no trace of him.

Cym. To my grief, I am
The heir of his reward; which I will add
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,

(To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. By whom, I grant, she lives: 'Tis now the time To alk of whence you are report it.

Bel. Sir,
In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :
Further to boast, were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add, we are honest.

Cym. Bow your knees :
Arilemy knights o' the battles; I create you
Çompanions to our person, and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.

-one that promis'd nought But beggary and poor looks.] But how can it be said, that one, whose poor looks promise beggary, promised poor looks too? It was not the poor look which was promised ; that was visible. We muft read:

But beggary and poor luck. This sets the matter right, and makes Belarius speak sense and to the purpose. For there was the extraordinary thing; he promised nothing but poor luck, and yet performed all thele wonders.

WARBURTON. To promise nothing but poor looks, may be, to give no promise of couragcous behaviour. " JOHNSON. So in K. Richard II.

To look so poorly and to speak so fair.” Steevens.

-knights o' the battle ;-] *Thus in Stowe's Chronicle, p. 164, edit. 1615:." Philip of France made Arthur Plantagenet knight of the fielde." STEEVENS.

Enter

Enter Cornelius, and Ladies.

.

There's business in these faces :- Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
And not o' the court of Britain.

Cor. Hail, great king!
To sour your happiness, I must report
The queen is dead.

Cym. Whom worse than a physician
Would this report become? But I consider,
By medicine life may be prolong’d, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?

Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life;
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
Most cruel to herself. What she confess’d,
I will report, so please you: These her women
Can trip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks,
Were present when she finish'd.

Cym. Pr’ythee, say.

Cor. Firit, she confess’d she never lov'd you; only
Affected greatness got by you, not you:
Married your royalty, was wife to your place;
Abhorr'd your person.

Cym. She alone knew this:
And, but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.

Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,
But that her fight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.

Cym. O most delicate fiend ! Who is't can read a woman? - Is there more? Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess, she

had For you a mortal mineral ; which, being took, Should by the minute feed on life, and ling’ring,

Ву

By inches waste you: In which time she purpos’d,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her shew: yes, and in time,
(When she had fitted you with her craft) to work
Her son into the adoption of the crown.
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-defperate; open'd, in despight
Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
The ills she hatch'd were not effected; so,
Despairing, dy'd.

Cym. Heard you all this, her women?
Lady. We did, fo please your highness.

Cym. 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 may'st say, And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven inend all !

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Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and other Rognan prisoners ;

Posthumus behind, and Imogen. Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute ; that The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made fuit, That their good souls may be appeas'd with Naughter Of you their captives, which ourself have granted : So, think of your estate.

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day Was yours by accident; had it gone with us, We should not, when the blood was cold, 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

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