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GAOL. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone 5. 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. [Exeunt.



Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIragus, Pisanio, Lords, Officers, and Attendants. CYM. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made


I never saw one so 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. 1537:

"Thus lay they in Doncaster, with curtol and serpentine, "With bombard and basilisk, with men prone and vigorous."

Again, in Sir A. Gorges' translation of the sixth book of Lucan: Thessalian fierie steeds


"For use of war so prone and fit."


6 SCENE V.] Let those who talk so confidently about the skill of Shakspeare's contemporary, Jonson, point out the conclusion of any one of his plays which is wrought with more artifice, and yet a less degree of dramatick 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 confusion, and not more rich in ornament than in nature. STEEVENS.

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

Stepp'd before targe of proof, cannot be found:
He shall be happy that can find him, if

Our grace can make him so.


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".


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


But no trace of him.


To my grief, I am

The heir of his reward; which I will add
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
By whom, I grant, she lives: 'Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are :-report it.



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


Bow your knees:

Arise, my knights o' the battle; I create you
Companions to our person, and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.

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But beggary and poor looks.] To promise "nothing but poor looks," may be, 'to give no promise of courageous behaviour.'

So, in King Richard II. :

8 ―


"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 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.


Hail, great king!

To sour your happiness, I must report
The queen is dead.

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 2.-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.


Pr'ythee, say.

COR. First, she confess'd she never lov'd you;


Affected greatness got by you, not you:

Married your royalty, was wife to your place;

Abhorr'd your person.


She alone knew this:


And, but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it.

9 There's BUSINESS in these faces :-] So, in Macbeth: "The business of this man looks out of him." MALONE.

I WHOM Worse than a physician -] Old copy-Who. Corrected in the second folio. MALONE.

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Will seize the doctor too.] This observation has been already made at the end of the second stanza of the funeral Song, p. 168: "The sceptre, learning, physick, must "All follow this, and come to dust."


COR. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to

love 2

With such integrity, she did confess

Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,
But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.


O most delicate fiend!

Who is't can read a woman ?-Is there more?
COR. More, sir, and worse. She did confess, she

For you a mortal mineral: which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling'ring,
By inches waste you: In which time she purpos'd,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her show: yes, and in time3,
(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-desperate; open'd, in despite
Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so,
Despairing, died.


Heard you all this, her women? LADY. We did so, please your highness. CYм. 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,

2-bore in hand To LOVE-] i. e. insidiously taught to depend on her love. See vol. ix. p. 38, n. 9. STEEVENS.


YES, and in time,] Thus the second folio. The first, injuriously to the metre, omits-yes. STEEVENS.

4 Mine eyes -] Sir Thomas Hanmer, very adroitly, in my opinion, supplies the syllable here wanting to the metre, by reading:

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Yet, mine eyes," &c. STEEVENS.

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 mend all!
Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and other
Roman Prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS behind,

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


That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaugh


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 cool, 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 lives to think on't: And so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransom'd: never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
With my request, which, I'll make bold, your high-


Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.

5 So feat,] So ready; so dexterous in waiting. JOHNSON. VOL. XIII.


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