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Jupiter defcends in thunder and lightning, fitting upon an eagle; he throws a thunder-bolt." The ghosts fall on their knees.

Jupit. No more, you petty fpirits of region low,
Offend our hearing; hufh!-how dare you, Ghosts,
Accufe the Thunderer, whofe bolt you know,,
Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coafts?
Poor shadows of Elyfium, hence and rest
Upon your never-withering banks of flowers.
Be not with mortal accidents oppreft,

No care of yours it is: you know, 'tis ours.
Whom beft I love, I crofs; to make my gift,
The more delay'd, delighted. Be content,
Your low-laid fon our godhead will uplift:
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent ;
Our Jovial ftar reign'd at his birth, and in
Our temple was he married: rife, and fade!
He fhall be Lord of Lady Imogen,

And happier much by his affliction made.
This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein

[Jup. drops a tablet. Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; And fo, away;no farther with your din Exprefs impatience, left you ftir up mine; Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.

[Afcends. Sici. He came in thunder, his cœleftial breath Was fulphurous to fmell; the holy eagle Stoop'd, as to foot us; his afcenfion is More fweet than our bleft fields; his royal bird Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, As when his God is pleas'd.

All. Thanks, Jupiter!

Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd

His radiant roof: away, and to be bleft

Let us with care perform his great beheft.

[Vanish.

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

begot

A father to me: and thou haft created

A mother and two brothers.

But, oh fcorn!

N 4

Gone

Gone-they went hence fo foon as they were born ;
And fo I am awake-Poor wretches, that depend
On Greatness' favour, dream as I have done;
Wake, and find nothing.But, alas, I fwerve:
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! oh rare one!
Be not, as in 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.

WH

[Reads.]

HEN as the lion's whelp fhall, to himself unknown, without feeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a ftately cedar fhall be lopt branches, which, being dead many years, fhall after revive, be jointed to the old ftock, and freshly grow, then fall Pofthumus end his miferies, Britaine be fortunate,

and flourish in peace and plenty.

"Tis ftill a dream; or elfe fuch ftuff, as madmen

Tongue, and brain not: (do either both, or nothing ;-) Or fenfelefs fpeaking, or a fpeaking fuch

As fenfe cannot untie. But what it is,

The action of my life is like it, which I'll keep

If but for fympathy.

Enter Goaler.

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

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

Poft. So if it prove a good repaft to the spectators, the dish pays the fhot.

Goal. A heavy reckoning for you, Sir; but the comfort is, you fhall be call'd to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills, which are often the fadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth; you come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink ; forry that you have paid too much, and forry that you

are

are paid too much; purse and brain, both empty, the brain the heavier, for being too light; the purfe too light, being drawn of heavinefs. Oh, of this contradiction you fhall now be quit: oh, the charity of a penny cord, it fums up thousands in a trice; you have no true debtor, and creditor, but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge; your neck, Sir, is pen, book, and counters; fo the acquittance follows.

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

Goal. Indeed, Sir, he, that fleeps, feels not the toothache: but a man that were to fleep your fleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for look you, Sir, you know not which way you fhall go.

Poft. Yes, indeed, do 1, fellow.

Goal. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have not feen him fo pictur'd: you must either be directed by fome that take upon them to know; or to take upon yourself that, which, I am fure, you do not know; or lump the after-enquiry 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.

Goal. What an infinite mock is this, that a man fhould have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindnefs! I am fure, hanging's the way of winking.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Knock off his manacles, bring your prifoner to the King.

Poft. Thou bring'ft good news; I am called to be made free.

Goal. I'll be hang'd then. Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a goaler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt Pofthumus and Meffenger. Goal. Unless a man would marry gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never faw one fo prone. Yet, on my confcience, there are verier knaves defire to live, for

N 5

all

all he be a Roman: and there be fome of them too, that die against their wills; fo fhould I, if I were one. I would, we were all of one mind, and one mind good; O, there were defolation of goalers and gallowfes; I speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in't. [Exit.

SCENE, Cymbeline's Tent.

Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus,
Pifanio, and Lords.

Cym. STAND by my fide, you, whom the Gods have

Prefervers of my Throne. Woe is my heart,
That the poor Soldier, that so richly fought,
(Whofe rags fham'd gilded arms; whose naked breast
Stept before fhields of proof,) cannot be found:

He fhall be happy that can find him, if

Our grace can make him so.

Bel. I never faw (28)

Such noble fury in fo poor a thing:

Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nought
But begg'ry and poor Luck.

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Cym. No tydings of him?

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

(28)

I never faw

Such noble Fury in jo poor a Thing;

Such precious Deeds in one that promis'd Nought

But Begg'ry and poor Looks.

But pray, how can it be faid, that one, whofe poor Looks promise
Beggary, fhould promise poor Looks too? No;
Look that was promifed: That was vifible.
Certainty;

But Begg'ry and poor Luck.

it was not the poor We must read with

This fets the Matter entirely right, and makes Belarius speak Sense and to the purpofe. For there was the extraordinary Thing; he promis'd Nothing but peor Luck, and yet perform'd fuch Wonders.

Mr. Warburton.

Cym.

Cym. To my grief, I am

The heir of his reward; which I will add

To you, (the liver, heart, and brain of Britaine ;)

[To Bel. Guid. and Arvirag.

"Tis now the time

By whom, I grant, fhe lives.
To ask of whence you are. Report it.

Bel. Sir,

In Cambria are we born, and Gentlemen:
Farther to boaft, were neither true nor modeft,
Unless I add, we're honest.

Cym. Bow your knees;

Arife my Knights o'th' 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 thefe faces: why fo fadly
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
And not o'th' Court of Britaine.

Cor. Hail, great King!

To four your happiness, I muft report
The Queen is dead.

Cym. Whom worse than a phyfician
Would this report become? but I confider,
By med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death
Will feize the Doctor too. How ended the ?
Cor, With horror, madly dying, like herself;
Who, being cruel to the world, concluded
Moft cruel to herself. What the confest,
I will report, fo please you: These her women
Can trip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks,
Were prefent when the finish'd. .

Cym. Pr'ythee, say.

Cor. First, the confefs'd, fhe never lov'd you: only ' Affected Greatnefs got by you, not you:

Married your Royalty, was wife to your Place;

Abhorr'd your perfon.

Cym. She alone knew this:

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

Cor.

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