(The first, that ever touch'd him) he was carried
From off our coaft, 'twice beaten; and his fhipping,
(Poor ignorant baubles,) on our terrible feas,
Like egg-fhells mov'd upon their furges, crack'd
As eafily 'gainft our rocks. For joy whereof,
The fam'd Caffibelan, who was once at point
(Oh, giglet fortune!) to mafter Cafar's fword,
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright,
And Britons ftrut with courage.

Clot. Come, there's no more Tribute to be paid. Our Kingdom is ftronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more fuch Cafars; other of them may have crook'd nofes, but, to own fuch ftrait arms, none.

Cym. Son, let your mother end.

Clot. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cafibelan; I do not fay, I am one; but I have a hand.. Why, Tribute? Why fhould we pay Tribute? if Cæfar can hide the Sun from us with a blanket, or put the Moon in his pocket, we will pay him Tribute for light; elfe, Sir, no more Tribute, pray

you now.

Cym. You must know,

'Till the injurious Roman did extort

This tribute from us, We were free. Cæfar's ambition,
Which fwell'd so much, that it did almost stretch
The fides o'th' world, against all colour, here
Did put the yoke upon's; which to shake off,
Becomes a warlike people (which we reckon
Our felves to be) to do. Say then to Cæfar,
Our ancestor was that Mulmutius, who
Ordain'd our Laws, whofe ufe the fword of Cafar
Hath too much mangled; whofe repair and franchise
Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry: That Mulmutius,
Who was the firft of Britaine, which did put
His brows within a golden Crown, and call'd
Himself a King.

Luc. I'm forry, Cymbeline,

That I am to pronounce Auguftus Cæfar

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(Cefar,

(Cafar, that hath more Kings his fervants, than Thy felf domestick Officers) thine enemy.

Receive it from me then.- -War and Confufion
In Cafar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look
For Fury, not to be refifted. Thus defy'd,
I thank thee for my felf.
Cym. Thou'rt welcome,

Caius;

Thy Cafar knighted me; my youth I spent
Much under him: of him I gather'd honour,
Which he to feek of me again perforce,
Behooves me keep at utterance. I am perfect,
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for
Their Liberties, are now in arms: a Precedent
Which, not to read, would fhew the Britons cold:
So Cæfar fhall not find them.

Luc. Let proof speak.

Clot. His Majefty bids you welcome. Make paftime with us a day or two, or longer: If you feek us afterwards on other terms, you fhall find us in our falt water girdle: if you beat us out of it, it is yours: if you fall in the adventure, our crows fhall fare the better for you; and there's an end.'

Luc. So, Sir.

Cym. I know your mafter's pleasure, and he mine: All the Remain is, Welcome.

Enter Pifanio, reading a Letter.

[Exeunt.

Pif. How? of adultery? wherefore write you not,
What monfters have accus'd her? Leonatus!
Oh mafter, what a strange infection

Is fall'n into thy ear? what falfe Italian,
(As pois'nous-tongu'd, as handed) hath prevail'd
On thy too ready Hearing!-Difloyal ? no,
She's punish'd for her truth; and undergoes
More Goddefs-like, than wife-like, fuch affaults
As would take in fome virtue. Oh, my master!
Thy mind to her is now as low, as were

Thy fortunes. How? that I fhould murther her?
Upon the love and truth and vows, which I
Have made to thy Command!

blood!

-I, her!

-her

If

If it be fo to do good fervice, never

Let me be counted ferviceable. - How look I,
That I fhould feem to lack humanity,

So much as this fact comes to? Do't

-the letter, [Reading.

-Damn'd paper!

That I have fent her, by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity.-

Black as the ink that's on thee: fenfelefs bauble!
Art thou a fœdarie for this act, and look'st
So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.
Enter Imogen.

I'm ignorant in what I am commanded.
Imo. How now, Pifanio?

Pif. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who! thy lord? that is my lord Leonatus:
Oh, learn'd, indeed, were that astronomer,
That knew the stars, as I his characters :
He'd lay the Future open. You good Gods,
Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
Of my lord's health, of his content;
(yet not,
That we two are afunder; let that grieve him!

Some griefs are medicinable; that is one of them, (12)
For it doth phyfick love ;)—of his content,

All but in that. Good wax, thy leave,Bleft be
You bees, that make these locks of counfel! Lovers,
And men in dang'rous bonds, pray not alike.
Though forfeitures you caft in prifon, yet
You'clasp young Cupid's tables: good news, Gods!

(12) Some Griefs are medicinable, that is one of them, For it doth phyfick Love of his Content,

All but in That.]

1

Thus Mr. Pope has wifely pointed this Paffage in his 4to Edition of our Poet: by which it is demonftrable, he did not underftand it. If Grief phyficks Love of his Content, then it purges his Content away, which is by no means our Author's meaning. All the Editions have confounded the Sense by a bad Pointing: I have reform'd the whole Context to Sense, and Perfpicuity.

[Reading. USTICE, and your father's wrath, fhould be take me in his Dominion, could not be fo cruel to me; but you, oh the dearest of creatures, would even renew me with your eyes. Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven: what your own love will out of this adwife you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your increasing in

love;

Leonatus Pofthumus.

Oh, for a horfe with wings! hear'ft thou, Pifanio?
He is at Milford-Haven: read and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day? then, true Pijanio,
Who long't like me to fee thy lord; who long'ft,
(Oh, let me 'bate) but not like me; yet long'it,
But in a fainter kind
oh, not like me;
For mine's beyond, beyond-Say, and fpeak thick;
Love's counfeilor fhould fill the bores of Hearing
To th' fmoth'ring of the Senfe-

-how far it is
To this fame blefled Milford: and, by th' way,
Tell me how Wales was made fo happy, as
T' inherit fuch a haven. But, first of all,
How may we fteal from hence? and for the gap
That we shall make in time,
Till our return, t'excufe-
Why fhould excufe be born,
We'll talk of that hereafter.
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?

from our hence going
-but first, how get hence?
or ere begot?
Pr'ythee, fpeak,

Pif. One score 'twixt fun and fun,

Madam, 's enough for you: and too much too.

Imo. Why, one that rode to's execution, man, Could never go fo flow: I've heard of riding wagers, Where horses have been nimbler than the fands That run i'th' clock's behalf. But this is fool'ry. Go, bid my woman feign a fickness; say, She'll home t' her father: and provide me, present,

A

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.

[Excunt.

SCENE changes to a Foreft with a Cave, in

Bel.

Wales.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

A Goodly day! not to keep house, 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 houfe i'th' rock, yet ufe thee net fo hardly
As prouder livers do.

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

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

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

Nor what ensues; but have a Fog in them,

That I cannot look thro'.]

Where is the Subftantive, 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 reftore, 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 profpect, within Sight, before my Eyes.

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Your