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Bel. How you speak ! Did you but know the city's usuries, And felt them knowingly; the art o'th' court, As hard to leave, as keep, whose 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 seems to seek out danger I'th' name of fame, and honour, which dies i'th'

And hath as oft a fland'rous epitaph,
As record of fair act; nay, many time
Doth ill deserve, by doing well: what's worse
Must curt'fie at the censure. Oh, boys, this story
The world may read in me: my body's inark'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,
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.

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

But that two villains whose false oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline,
I was confederate with the Romans: fo


banishment, and this twenty years,
This rock; and these demesnes, have been my world,
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom, pay'd
More pious debts to Heaven, than in all
The fore end of my time- -But up to th' moun.

This is not hunter's language; he that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o'th' feaft,
To him the other two fall minister,
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater Atate.


The Force of Nature.
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature !
These boys. know little they are sons to th' king,
Nor Cymbeline dreams, that they are alive.
They think they're mine, (10) and though train'd up

thus meanly
I'th' 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. (11) This Paladour,


(10) And tho', &c.] That passage is printed thus, in the old editions ;

And tho’train'd up thus meanly I'th' cave whereon they bow. which the crítics have alter'd according to their several fancies and conjectures : Mr. Theobald, and the Oxford editor, read,

I'th'cave, here on the brow. That is surely too insignificant and inexpressive for Shakespear. Mr. Warburton gives us a more plausible, and I think, juit emendation that have admitted into the text : which the first lines of Bclarius's - speech seem to confirm;

Whose roof's as low as ours : see, boys, this gate


how t'adore the heav'ns : and bows you To morning holy office. “ Tho' thus meanly brought up in a cave, which is so low, that they must bow or bend in entering it; yet these young princes' thoughts are so exalted, they hit the roofs of palaces."

(11)) This, &c.) There is a passage in the Maid's Tragedy, (the beginning of the first act) which well deserves to be compared with that in the text : Melantius, an old, honeft general, thus. Speaks of his friend;

His worth is great, valiant he is and temperate,
And one that never thinks his life his own,
If his friend need it: when he was a boy,
As oft as I return'd (as, without boast,
I brought home conquest) he would gaze upon me,


(The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
The king his father call’d Guiderius,) Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I fit, and tell
The warlike feats I've done, his spirits fly out
Into my story: say, thus, mine enemy fell,


And view me round, to find in what one limb
The virtue lay to do those things he heard :
Then wou'd he wish to see my sword, and feel
The quickness of the edge, and in his hand
Weigh it—He oft wou'd make me smile at this ;
His youth did promise much, and his ripe age

Will see it all perform’d. Mr. Seward observes--(see his preface, p. xvii.)' A youth gazing on every limb of the victorious chief, then begging his sword, feeling its edge, and poising it in his arm, are attitudes nobiy expressive of the inward ardor and ecstasy of soul ; but what is most observable is,

And in his hand Weigh it,&C. By this beautiful pause or break, the action and picture continue in view, and the poet, like Homer, is eloquent in filence. It is a species of beauty that shews an intimacy with that father of poetry, in whom it occurs extremely often. Milton has an exceed. ing fine one in the description of his Lazar-house.

Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch,
And over them triumphant death his dart
Shook-but delay'd to strike, &c.

Par. LA, B. 11. V. 490. As Shakespear did not study versification, so much as these poets who were conversant in Homer and Virgil, I don't remember in him any striking instance of this species of beauty. But he even wanted it not; his sentiments are so amazingly bright, that they pierce the heart at once; and diction and numbers, which are the beauty and nerves adorning and invigorating the thoughts of other poets, to him are but like the bodies of angels, azure vehicks, through which the whole foul shines transparent. Of this, take the following instance;

This Paladour, &c."
Sce the ad part of Henry VI. AA 4. Sc. I. n. 8.

And thus I set my foot on's neck, even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words. The

younger brother, Cadwail
(Once, Arviragus) in as like a figure
Strikes life into my speech, and shews much more
His own conceiving

Scene IV. Slander.

(12) No, 'tis flander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Out-venoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.

A Wifi's Innocency.
(13) False to his bed! What is it to be false,
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
To weep ’rwixt clock and clock? If sleep charge

To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myself awake? That falfe to's bed!

Woman in Man's Dress.
(14) You must forget to be a woman; change
Coinmand into obedience; fear and nicenels,
The hardmaids of all women, (or more truly
Woman its pretty self,) to waggish courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-answered, faucy, and



(12) No, 'sis, &c.] See Measure for Mcafure, Act 3. Sc. 6
(13) Fulse, &c.] See llen. IV. part 1, n. 8.
(14) You mus, &c.] See As you like it, Act I, Sc. 10.


As quarrelous as the weazel : nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it (but oh, the harder hap*,
Alack, no remedy) to the greedy touch
Of common killing Titan; and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

SCENE VII. The Forest and Cave,

Enter Imogen ir Boy's Cloaths,

I fee, a man's life is a tedious one; I've tir'd myself; and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be fick, But that my resolution helps me : Milford, When from the mountain-top Pifanio fhew'd thee, Thou wast within a ken. Oh, Jove, I think Foundations fy the wretched ; fuch I mean, Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me, I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment, or trial? Yes; no wonder, When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fulness Is forer, than to lie for need : and falfhood Is worfe in kings, than beggars. My dear lord, 'Thou’rt one o'ih' false ones; now I think on thee, My hunger's gone; but even before, I was At point to fink for food. But what is this ?

[Seeing the Cave, Here is a path to't,—'Tis some savage hold; 'Twere best not call; I dare not call: yet famine Ere it clean o'erthrows nature, makes it valiant. Plenty and peace breed cowards, hardness ever Of hardinels is mother.

· Labour,

Har, Warb. vulg. heart.

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