A riding fuit; no costlier than would fit
A Franklin's housewife.

Pif. Madam, you'd beft confider.

Imo. I fee before me, man, nor here, nor here, (13)
Nor what enfues, but have a fog in Ken,

That I cannot look thro'. Away, I pr'ythee,
Do as I bid thee; there's no more to fay;
Acceffible is none but Milford way.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Foreft with a Cave, in

Bel.

A

Goodly day! not to keep houfe, with fuch
Whofe 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
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 house i' th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers dɔ.

Guid. Hail, heav'n!
Arv. Hail, heav'n!

Bel. Now for our mountain fport, up to yond hill,

(13) I fee before me, Man, nor here, nor bere,

Nor what enfues; but bave a Fog in them,

That I cannot look thre'.]

Where is the Substantive, to which this Relative plural, them, can poffibly have any Reference? There is None; and the Senfe, as well as Grammar, is defective. I have ventur'd to restore, against the Authority of the printed Copies,

-but have a Fog in Ken,

That I cannot look thro'.

Imogen would fay, "Don't talk of confidering, Man; I nei"ther fee prefent Events, nor Confequences; but am in a Mist "of Fortune, and refolv'd to proceed on the Project deter“min'd. In Ken, means, in prospect, within Sight, before my Eyes.

L 4

Your

Your legs are young: I'll tread these 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 fervice is not fervice, fo being done,
But being fo allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see :
And often, to our comfort, fhall we find
The fharded beetle in a fafer hold,
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. Oh, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check;
Richer, than doing nothing for a 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 fpeak; we, poor, un-
fledg'd,

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

That have a fharper known: well correfponding
With your ftiff 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 fhall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December? how,
In this our pinching Cave, fhall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing;
We're beastly; fubtle as the fox for
prey,

Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat :

Our valour is to chase what flies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prison'd bird,
And fing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you fpeak!

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' search,

And bath as oft a fland'rous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many time,

Doth ill deserve, by doing well: what's worse,
Muft curt'fie 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 belt of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a foldier was the theam, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit.

night,

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

But, in one

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 this 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 fore-end of my time..

tains!

But, up to th' moun

This is not hunters' language; he, that ftrikes
The venifon firft, fhall be the lord o' th' feaft;
To him the other two fhall minifter,

And we will fear no poifon, 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 fons to th' King; Nor Cymbeline dreams, that they are alive.

L 5

They

They think, they're mine; tho' trained up thus mean

ly (14)

I' th' Cave, there, on the Brow, 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 fweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words The younger brother Cadwall,
(Once, Arviragus,) in as like a figure

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

Thou reft'ft me of my lands. Euriphile,

Thou waft their nurfe; they take thee for their mother,

(14)

tho' train'd up thus meanly

Here in the Cave, wherein their Thoughts do bit

The Roof of Palaces.]

Thus Mr. Pope; but the Sentence breaks off imperfectly. The old Editions read,

I' th' Cave, whereon the Bow their Thoughts do bit, &c. Mr. Rowe faw, this likewife was faulty; and therefore amended it thus:

I' th' Cave, where, on the Bow, their Thoughts do bit, &c. I think, it should be only with the Alteration of one Letter, and the Addition of another;

I' th' Cave, there, on the Brow,

And fo the Grammar and Syntax of the Sentence is compleat. We call the Arcbing of a Cavern, or Overbanging of a Hill, metaphorically, the Brow; and in like manner the Greeks and Latines used ippy's, and Supercilium.

And

And every day do honour to her Grave;
Myfelf Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,

They take for natural father. The game's up. [Exit. Enter Pifanio and Imogen.

Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place

Was near at hand. Ne'er long'd my mother fo

To fee me firft, as I have now

Pifanio,

Where is Pofthumus? What is in thy mind,

That makes thee ftare thus ? wherefore breaks that figh
From th' inward of thee? one, but painted thus,
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond felf-explication. Put thyself
Into a 'haviour of lefs fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my ftayder fenfes-

-what's the matter?

Why tender'ft thou that paper to me, with
A look untender? if't be fummer news,
Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'ft

But keep that count'nance ftill. My husband's hand ?
That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he's at some hard point. Speak, man; thy tongue
May take off fome extremity, which to read
Would be e'en mortal to me.

Pif. Please read;

And you

you,

fhall find me, wretched man,, a thing

The most difdain'd of fortune.

Imogen reads.

HY miftrefs, Pifanio, bath play'd the firumpet in my bed: the teftimonies whereof lye bleeding in me. Ifpeak not out of weak furmises, but from proof as ftrong as my grief, and as certain as I expect my revenge. That part thou, Pifanio, must act for me. If thy faith be not tainted with the breach of hers, let thine hands take away her life: I fhall give thee opportunity at Milford-Haven. She bath my letter for the purpose; where, if thou fear to Atrike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art the Pander to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal..

Pif