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He'd lay the Future open.You good Gods,
Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
Of my lord's health, of his content ;-
-yet not,
That we two are asunder; let that grieve him!
Some griefs are medicinable; that is one of them,
For it doth phyfic love ;——of his content,

All but in that,--Good wax, thy leave,---Bleft be
You bees, that make thefe locks of counfel! Lovers,
And men in dang'rous bonds, pray not alike.
Though forfeitures you caft in prifon, yet
You clasp young Cupid's tables: good news, Gods!
[Reading.
USTICE, and your father's wrath, fhould he take
me in his Dominions, could not be fo cruel to me; but
you, oh the dearest of creatures, would even renew me with
yur eyes.
Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Mil-
ford-Haven: what your own love will, out of this, advife
you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains
loyal to his vow, and your increafing in love;

Leonatus Pofthumus.

Oh, for a horfe with wings! hear'ft thou, Pifanio?
He is at Milford-Haven: read and tell me

How far 'tis thither.

If one of mean affairs

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May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day? then, true Pifanio,
Who long ft like me to fee thy lord; who long'ft,
(Oh, let me 'bate) but not like me; yet long'ft-
But in a fainter kind-oh, not like me;
For mine's beyond, beyond-Say, and speak thick
Love's counsellor fhould fill the bores of Hearing
To th' fmoth'ring of the Senfe- -How far it is
To this fame bleffed Milford : and, by th' way,
Tell me how Wales was made fo happy, as
T' inherit fuch a haven. But, firft of all,
How may we fteal from hence? and for the gap
That we fhall make in time, from our hence going
Till our return, t'excuse--but first, how get hence?

Why

Why fhould excufe be born, or ere begot?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Prythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?

Pif. One score 'twixt fun and fun,

Madam, 's enough for you: and too much too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to's execution, man,
Could never go fo flow: I've heard of riding wagers,
Where horfes have been nimbler than the fands
That ran i' th' clock's behalf. But this is fool'ry.
Go, bid my woman feign a fickness; fay
She'll home t' her father: and provide me, present,
A riding fuit; no coftlier than would fit

A Franklin's housewife.

Pif. Madam, you'd beft confider.

Imo. I fee before me, man: nor here, nor here, Nor what enfues, that have a fog in them, That I cannot look thro'. Away, I pr'ythee, Do as I bid thee; there's no more to say; Acceffible is none but Milford way.

Bel.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Changes to a Foreft with a Cave, in Wales.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

A

Goodly day! not to keep houfe, with fuch Whole roof's as low as ours: fee, boys! this gate

Inftructs you how t'adore the heav'ns; and bows you To morning's holy office.

Gates of monarchs

Ifee before me, man: nor here nor there,

Nor what enfues, but have a fog in them,

That I cannot look thro'.] Shakespear fays she can see before her, yet on which Side foever fhe looks, there is a Fog which she cannot fee thro'. This Nonfenfe is occafioned by the corrupt reading of, But have a fog, for, That have a fog; and then all is plain. I fee before me, (fays fhe) for there is no Fog on any Side of me which I cannot fee thro'.

Warb.

Are

Are arch'd fo high, that Giants may jet through
And keep their impious Turbands on, without
Good-morrow to the Sun. Hail, thou fair heav'n!
We houfe i'th rock, yet ufe thee not fo hardly
As prouder livers do.

Guid. Hail, heaven!

Aru. Hail, heav'n!

Bel. Now for our mountain sport, up to yond hill,
Your legs are young: I'll tread thefe flats. Confider,
When you, above, perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which leffens and fets off;

And you may
then revolve what tales I told you,
Of Courts, of Princes, of the tricks in war;
That service is not fervice, fo being done,
But being fo allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we fee:
And often, to our comfort, fhall we find
The fharded beetle in a safer hold,
Than is the full-wing'd eagle.

Oh, this life

Is nobler than attending for a check ;

Richer, than doing nothing for å bauble;
Prouder, than ruftling in unpaid for filk :
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncrofs'd; no life to ours.

Guid. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor, unfledg'd,

Have never wing'd from view o' th' neft; nor know,
What air's from home. Haply, this life is beft,
If quiet life is beft; fweeter to you,

That have a fharper known: well correfponding
With your fliff age; but unto us, it is
A cell of ign'rance; travelling a-bed ;
A prifon, for a debtor that not dares
To ftride a limit.

Arv. 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, fhall we difcourfe

The

The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing;
We're beaftly; fubtle as the fox for prey,
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat :
Our valour is to chafe what flies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prison'd bird,
And fing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you speak!

Did you but know the city's ufuries,

And felt them knowingly; the art o'th' Court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whofe top to climb,
Is certain falling; or fo flipp'ry, that

The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;
A pain, that only feems to feek out danger

I' th' name of fame and honour; which dies i'th' fearch,

And hath as oft a fland'rous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many time,
Doth ill deferve, by doing well what's worse,
Muft curt'fy at the cenfure :-Oh, boys, this ftory
The world may read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman fwords; and my Report was once
First with the beft of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a foldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,

Whofe boughs did bend with fruit. But, in one night,

A ftorm, or robbery, call it what you will,

Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves; And left me bare to weather.

Guid. Uncertain favour!

Bel. My fault being nothing, as I have told you oft,
But that two villains (whofe falfe oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour) fwore to Cymbeline,
I was confed'rate with the Romans: fo,

Follow'd my banishment; and, thefe twenty years,
This rock and thefe demeafnes have been my world;
Where I have liv'd at honeft freedom; pay'd
More pious debts to heaven, than in all

The

The fore-end of my time.-But, up to th' mountains!
This is not hunters' language; he, that firikes
The venison firft, fhall be the lord o' th' feast;
To him the other two fhall minifter,

And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater State:

I'll meet you in the valleys. [Exeunt Guid. and Arvir.
How hard it is to hide the fparks of nature !
These boys know little, they are Sons to th' King;
Nor Cymbeline dreams, that they are alive..

They think, they're mine, tho' trained up thus meanly.

I' th' Cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roof of Palaces; and nature prompts them,
In fimple and low things, to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Paladour,
(The heir of Cymbeline and Britaine, whom
The King his father call'd Guiderius,) Jove-
When on my three-foot-ftool I fit, and tell
The warlike feats I've done, his fpirits fly out
Into my ftory: fay," thus mine enemy fell,
And thus I fet my foot on's neck❞—even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in pofture
That acts my words-The younger brother Cadwall,
(Once Arviragus.) in as like a figure

Strikes life into my fpeech, and fhews much more
His own conceiving. Hark, the game is rouz'd-
Oh Cymbeline! heav'n and my conscience know,
Thou didft unjustly banish me: whereon,
At three and two years old, I stole these babes ;
Thinking to bar thee of fucceffion, as

Thou reft ft me of my lands. Euriphile,

*

-tho' trained up thus meanly,

Ith Cave there on the brow,- -]The old Editions read, Ith Cave, whereon the bow; which tho' very corrupt, will direct us to the true Reading, which when rightly pointed, is thus,

-tho' trained up thus meanly.

Ith Cave wherein they bow.

VOL. VIII.

Warb.

Thou

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