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Poft. [waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandfire, and

begot A father to me: and thou hast created A mother, and two brothers : But (O scorn!) Gune! they went hence so soon as they were born. And so I am awake. Poor wretches, that depend On greatness' favour, dream as I have done ; Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve: Many dream not to find, neither deserve, And yet are steep'd in favours ; so am I, That have this golden chance, and know not why. What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O, rare one ! Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, As good as promise.

[Reads. ] When as a lion's whelp shall, to bimself unknown, without seeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air ; and wben from a stately cedar shall be lopt branches, which, be ing dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow ; then shall Pofthumus end bis miferies, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty. ''Tis still a dream ; or else such stuff as madmen Tongue, and brain not : either both, or nothing: Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, The action of my life is like it, which I'll keep if but for sympathy.

I 'Tis fill a dream; &c.)– This is a dream, or madness, or both, or nothing-but whether it be a speech without consciousness, as in a dream, or unintelligible, as in madness, be it as it may, 'tis like my course of life, and I'll preserve it for that reason.

R 2

Res

Re-enter Gaolers.

Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death?
Poft. Over-roasted rather : ready long ago.

Gaol. Hanging is the word, fir; if you be ready for that, you are well cook'd.

Poft. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot.

Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir: But the comfort is, you shall be call’d to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth : you come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and forry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty: the brain the heavier, for being too light; the purse too light, being * drawn of heaviness : O! of this contradiction you shall now be quit.-0, the charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice : you have no true y debitor and credicor but it ; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge Your neck, fir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows.

Pot. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live.

Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothach: But a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hang. man to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for, look you, fir, you know not which way you

shall

go.

you are paid too much ;)—by the liquor, overcome, intoxicated. " I paid nothing-but was paid for my learning."

Merry Wives of WINDSOR, Vol. I. p. 247. Fal. seven of the eleven I paid.

Henry IV. Part I. A& II. S.4. Fal. * drawn of beaviness:]-embowelled, emptied of its contents. y debitor and creditor) --mode of adjusting the accounts between them. ? counters were formerly used as a means of reckoning.

Peft.

Pot. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow.

Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then ; I have not seen him so pictur'd: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or jump the afterenquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think, you'll never return to tell

one.

Poft. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes, to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them.

Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking.

Enter a Messenger. Mef. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to

the king.

Poft. Thou bring'st good news; l-am callid to be made free.

Gaol. I'll be hang'd then.

Poft. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler ; no bolts for the dead.

[Exeunt Pofthumus, and Messenger. Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. 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 onę. 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.

[Exit. * jump tbe afier-enquiry)-venture upon it without any forethought. “We'd jump the life to come.” MACBETH, Vol. II. p. 623. Marb. For the life to come,&c. WINTER'S TALE, A& IV. S. 2. Aut. fo prone. 1-so prompt for execution.

SCENE

R3

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Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, Pifanio,

and Lords.

Cym. Stand by my side, you, whom the gods have made Preservers of my throne.

throne. Woe is my heart,
That the poor soldier, that so richly fought,
Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast
Stept before targe of proof, cannot be found:
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.

Bel. 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.

Cym. No tidings of him ?'

Pif. He hath been search'd among the dead and living, But no trace of him.

Cym. To my grief, I am
The heir of his reward; which I will add
To
you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,

[To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus, By whom, I grant, she lives : 'Tis now the time To ask of whence you are :-report it.

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

C targe]-targets.

d that promis'd nought, &c.)—whose appearance gave no sign of such a display of courage. . bis reward;]-of that reward, which he should have received.

Çym,

Cym. 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.
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.

Cor. Hail, great king!
To sour your happiness, I must report
The queen is dead.

Cym. Whom worse than a physician
Would this report become? But I consider,
By medicine death may be prolongd, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. 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 8 trip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks,
Were present when the finish'd.

Cym. Pr’ythee, say.

Cor. First, the confess’d she never lov'd you; only
Affected greatness got by you, not you:
Married your royalty, was wife to your place ;
Abhorr'd your person.

Cym. She alone knew this:
And, but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.

Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love With such'integrity, she did confess

knights o’the battle ;]—now ftiled Bannerets. & trip me,]-catch me tripping, detect me. bere in band)-affected, pretended.

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