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In solem show, attend this funeral;
And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.

Cæs.

O noble weakness!-
If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.'

Dol.

Here, on her breast, There is a vent of blood, and something blown : The like is on her arm.

1 Guard. This is an aspic's trail: and these
leaves

Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.

Cas.

Most probable,

That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite
Of easy ways to die.-Take up her bed;
And bear her women from the monument:-
She shall be buried by her Antony:
No grave upon the earth shall clip3 in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them: and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall,

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[Exeunt.

This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always interested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick fig-succession of one personage to another, call the mind forward without intermission, from the first act to the last. But the power of delighting is derived principally from the frequent changes of the scene; for, except the feminine arts, some of which are too low, which distinguish Cleopatra, no character is very strongly discriminated. Upton, who did not easily miss what he desired to find, has discovered that the language of Antony is, with great skill and learning, made pompous and superb, ac cording to his real practice. But I think his diction not distinguishable from that of others: the most tumid speech in the play is that which Cæsar makes to Octavia.

The events, of which the principal are described according to history, are produced without any art of connection or care of disposition.

JOHNSON.

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ACT I.

SCENE I.-Britain. The garden behind Cym-
beline's palace. Enter Two Gentlemen.
1 Gentleman.

You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods'
No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers;
Still seem, as does the king's.
2 Gent.
But what's the matter?
1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his king-
dom, whom

He purpos'd to his wife's sole son (a widow,
That late he married,)hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: She's wedded;
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all
Is outward sorrow; though, I think, the king
Be touch'd at very heart.

2 Gent.

None but the king?

1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the
queen,

That most desir'd the match: But not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 Gent.

And why so?

1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is
thing

Too bad for bad report: And he that hath her,
(I mean, that married her,-alack, good man!-
And therefore banish'd) is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth
For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward, and such stuff within,
Endows a man but he.

2 Gent.

You speak him far.2 1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold

(1) Inclination, natural disposition. (2) i. e. You praise him extensively.

(3) My praise, however extensive, is within his merit.

His measure duly.'
2 Gent.

What's his name, and birth?
1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father
Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,
Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus:
He serv'd with glory and admir'd success:
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o'the time,
Died with their swords in hand; for which their
father

(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the recel er of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,
(Which rare it is to do,) most prais'd, most lov'd:
A sample to the youngest; to the more mature,
A glass that feated' them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd,-her own price
a Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue ;
By her election may be truly read,
What kind of man he is.

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2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con- | You gentle gods, give me but this I have, vey'd !

So slackly guarded! And the search so slow, That could not trace them!

1 Gent.

Howsoe'r 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, sir. 2 Gent.

I do well believe you.

1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the queen, and princess. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Imogen.

Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the 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 wisdom may inform you.

Post.

I will from hence to-day. Queen.

Please your highness,

:

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.

Imo.

Exit Queen.

O,

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband,

I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing (Always reserv'd my holy duty,) what

His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may see again.

Post.

My queen? my mistress! O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause To be suspected of more tenderness Than doth become a man! I will remain The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth My residence in Rome at one Philario's; Who to my father was a friend, to me Known but by letter; thither write, my queen, And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send, Though ink be made of gall.

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And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death!-Remain thou here

[Pulting on the ring. While sense2 can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles I still win of you: For my sake, wear this, It is a manacle of love; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner.

Imo.

[Putting a bracelet on her arm. O, the gods!

When shall we see again?

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It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus:
You bred him as my playfellow; and he is
A man, worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym.
What!-art thou mad!
Imo. Almost, sir :-Heaven restore me!-'Would
I were

A neat-herd's' daughter! and my Leonatus
Our neighbour shepherd's son !

Re-enter Queen.

Cym. Thou foolish thing!They were again together: you have done [To the Queen. Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her up.

Queen,

'Beseech your patience :-Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace;-Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some

comfort Out of your best advice. Сут.

How! how! another?-A drop of blood a day;

(1) Close up. (2) Sensation. (4) A more exquisite feeling.

(3) Fill.

(5) Only.

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