I Cleo. Remember'st thou any that have died on't? Clown. Very many, men and women too. heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt, -Truly, she makes a very good report o'the worm: But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do: But this is most fallible, the worm's an odd worm. Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell. Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm. Cleo. Farewell. [Clown sets down the basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.3 Re-enter Iras, with a robe, crown, &c. Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:Yare, yare,4 good Iras; quick.-Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Cæsar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come; Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life.-So,-have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian ;-Iras, long farewell. [Kisses them. Iras falls and dies. Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world It is not worth leave-taking. This proves me base: With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate O eastern star! Peace, peace! O Antony!-Nay, I will take thee too :- Enter the Guard, rushing in. 1 Guard. Where is the queen? Char. Speak softly, wake her not. 1 Guard. Cæsar hath sentChar. O, come; apace, despatch: 1 Guard. Approach, ho! sar's beguil'd. Too slow a messenger. 2 Guard. There's Dolabella sent from Cæsar;call him. 1 Guard. What work is here?-Charmian, is this well done? Char. It is well done, and fitting for a princess Descended of so many royal kings. Ah, soldier! Enter Dolabella. [Dies. Dol. How goes it here? 2 Guard. All dead. Dol. Cæsar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this: Thyself art coming To see perform'd the dreaded act, which thou So sought'st to hinder. [Within.] A way there, way for Cæsar! Enter Cæsar, and Attendants. Dol. O, sir, you are too sure an augurer; That you did fear, is done. Cœs. Bravest at the last : She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, Took her own way.-The manner of their deaths? I do not see them bleed. Dol. Who was last with them? 1 Guard. A simple countryman, that brought her figs; This was his basket. Cœs. 1 Guard. Poison'd then. O Cæsar, This Charmian liv'd but now; she stood, and spake: I found her tri.nming up the diadem (4) Make haste. (5) Unpolitic, to leave me to myself. This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always interested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick mind forward without intermission, from the first succession of one personage to another, call the act to the last. But the power of delighting is derived principally from the frequent changes of the scene; for, except the feminine arts, some of which are too low, which distinguish Cleopatra, no character is very strongly discriminated. Upton, who did not easily miss what he desired to find, has discov. ered that the language of Antony is, with great skill and learning, made pompous and superb, according to his real practice. But I think his diction not distinguishable from that of others: the most tumid speech in the play is that which Cæsar makes to Octavia. The events, of which the principal are described according to history, are produced without any art of connection or care of disposition. JOHNSON. ACT I. SCENE I-Britain. The garden behind Cymbeline's palace. Enter Two Gentlemen. 1 Gentleman. You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods! He purpos'd to his wife's sole son (a widow, 2 Gent. None but the king? 1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the queen, That most desir'd the match: But not a courtier, 2 Gent. And why so? 1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is a thing Too bad for bad report: And he that hath her, (I mean, that married her,―alack, good man!And therefore banish'd) is a creature such As, to seek through the regions of the earth For one his like, there would be something failing In him that should compare. I do not think So fair an outward, and such stuff within, Endows a man but he. You speak him far.2 2 Gent. (1) Inclination, natural disposition. (3) My praise, however extensive, is within his merit. VOL. II His measure duly.* (Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow, I honour him But, 'pray you, tell me, 2 Gent. Even out of your report. Is she sole child to the king? 1 Gent. His only child. He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing, Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old, I'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were stolen: and to this hour, no guess in knowledge Which way they went. 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. (4) The father of Cymbeline. 2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con- || You gentle gods, give me but this I have, vey'd! So slackly guarded! And the search so slow, Howsoe'er 'tis strange, I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the queen, and princess. [Exeunt. SCENE II-The same. Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Imogen. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter, After the slander of most step-mothers, That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus, I will be known your advocate: marry, yet Post. I will from hence to-day. Queen. Please your highness, You know the peril : I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying Imo. [Exit Queen. 0, And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death!-Remain thou here That should'st repair my youth: thou heapest A year's age on me! Imo. I beseech you, sir, Harm not yourself with your vexation; I Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all fears. Cym. Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace. Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my queen! Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.6 Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne A seat for baseness. Imo. A lustre to it. Cym. Imo. No; I rather added O thou vile one! Sir, It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus : A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus Cym. Re-enter Queen. Thou foolish thing!-They were again together: you have done [To the Queen. Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her up. Queen. 'Beseech your patience :-Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace;-Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some |