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will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes
you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and
your, increasing in love, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.
O, for a horse with wings!—Hearst thou, Pisanio?
He is at Milford-Haven: Read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day?-Then, true Pisanio,
(Who long'st,like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,-
o, let me 'bate, but not like me:-yet long'st,-
But in a fainter kind:-0, not like me;
For mine's beyond beyond,) say, and speak thick,
(Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sense,) how far it is
To this same blessed Milford: And, by the way,
Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
To inherit such a haven: But, first of all,
How we may steal from hence; and, for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence-going,
And our return, to excuse:- but first, how get hence:
Why should excuse be born or e'er begot??
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr’ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
Twixt hour and hour?

One score, 'twixt sun and sun, Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.

Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wagers, Where horses have been nimbler than the sands That run i'the clock's behalf:But this is


speak thick,] i. e. croud one word on another, as fast as possible.

2 Why should excuse be born or c'er begot?] Why should I contrive an excuse, before the act is done, for which excuse will be Tiecessary?

Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say
She'll home to her father: and provide me, pre-

A riding suit; no costlier than would fit
A franklin's housewife.3

Madam, you're best consider.
Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here,
Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them,
That I cannot look through. Away, I pr’ythee;
Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say;
Accessible is none but Milford way.



Wales. A mountainous Country, with a Cave.


Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys: This gate Instructs you how to adore the heavens; and bows

you To morning's holy office: The gates of monarchs Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet* through And keep their impious turbands on, without Good morrow to the sun.--Hail, thou fair heaven! We house i’the rock, yet use thee not so hardly As prouder livers do. Gui.

Hail, heaven! Arv.

Hail, heaven! Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon


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A franklin's housewife.) A franklin is literally a freeholder, with a small estate, neither villain nor vassal.

may jet--] i. e. strut, walk proudly.

Their impious turbands on,] The idea of a giant was, among the readers of romances, who were almost all the readers of those times, always confounded with that of a Saracen.


Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider,
When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place, which lessens, and sets off.
And you may then revolve what tales I have told

Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd: To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see:
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler, than attending for a check ;8
Kicher, than doing nothing for a babe;9
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak: we, poor

unfledg’d, Have never wing'd from view o'the nest; nor know

What air's from home. Haply, this life is best,
If quiet life be best; sweeter to you,
That have a sharper known; well corresponding

age: but, unto us, it is


your stiff


6 This service is not service, &c.] In war it is not sufficient to do duty well; the advantage rises not from the act, but the acceptance of the act.

7 The sharded beetle-] i. e. the beetle whose wings are enclosed within two dry husks or shurds.

attending for a check;] Check may mean, in this place, a reproof; but I rather think it signifies command, controul. Thus, in Troilus and Cressida, the restrictions of Aristotle are called Aristotle's checks. STEEVENS.

than doing nothing for a babe ;] As it was once the custom in England for favourites at court to beg the wardship of infants who were born to great riches, our author may allude to it on this occasion. Frequent complaints were made that nothing was done towards the education of these neglected orphans.

- no life to ours.] i. e. compared with ours.



A cell of ignorance; travelling abed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit,

What should we speak of,
When we are old as you? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing:
We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey;
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat:
Our valour is, to chace what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison bird,
And sing our bondage freely.

How you speak! Did you but know the city's usuries, And felt them knowingly: the art o’the court, As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb Is certain falling, or so slippery, that The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger l'the name of fame, and honour; which dies i'the

search; And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, As record of fair act; nay, many times, Dọth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse, Must court'sey at the censure:-0, boys, this story The world may read in me: My body's mark'd With Roman swords; and my report was once First with the best of note: Cymbeline lov'd me; And when a soldier was the theme, my name Was not far off: Then was I as a tree,

. To stride a limit.] To overpass his bound.

What should we speak of,] This dread of an old age, unsup. plied with matter for discourse and meditation, is a sentiment natural and noble. No state can be more destitute than that of him, who, when the delights of sense forsake him, has no pleasures of the mind. JOHNSON.

Whose boughs did bend with fruit: but, in one night,
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.

Uncertain favour ! Bel. My fault being nothing (as I have told you

oft,) But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline, I was confederate with the Romans : so, Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years, This rock, and these demesnes, have been my world: Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid More pious debts to heaven, than in all The fore-end of my time.—But, up to the moun

tains ; This is not hunters language:-He, that strikes The venison first, shall be the lord o'the feast; To him the other two shall minister; And we will fear no poison, which attends In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys.

[Exeunt Gui. and Arv. How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature! These boys know little, they are sons to the king; Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive. They think, they are mine: and, though train'd up

thus meanly I'the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them, In simple and low things, to prince it, much Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore, The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom The king his father calld Guiderius,—Jove! When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out Into my story: say,-Thus mine enemy fell; And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then

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