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. Peft. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Goal. Indeed, Sir, he that fleeps, feels not the tooth-ache; 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 I, fellow. Goal. Your death hath eyes in's head then; I have not seen him fo pictured: you must either be directed by fome that take upon them to know; or to take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or lump the after-enquiry on your own peril; and how you fhall-fpeed in your jour ney'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 fuch as wink, and will not ufe them. Goal. What an infinite mock is this, that a man fhould have the beft ufe, of eyes, to fee the way of blindness! 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 bringeft good news; I am called to be made free. Goal. I'll be hanged then. Poft. Thou shalt be then freer than a goaler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt Pofth. and Mef. Goal. Unlefs a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never faw one fo prone. Yet, on my confcience, there are verier knaves defire to live, for 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 gaolers and gallowfes; I fpeak against my prefent profit, (54) but my wish hath a preferment in't. SCENE, Cymbeline's Tent. [Exit. Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Lords. Cym. Stand by my fide, you whom the Gods have made Prefervers of my throne. Woe is my heart, Stepped before fhields of proof,) cannot be found: Bel. (55) I never faw (54) Ifpeak against my prefent profit, &c.] All this interme diate fcene, from the inftant that Pofthumus falls afleep to the exit of the goaler here, I could be as well content as Mr Pope is, fhould be left out. But as 'tis found in the earliest Folio edition, though it fhould have been an interpolation, and not of Shakespeare's writing, I did not think I had any authority to difcard it. I own, to me, what Jupiter fays to the Phantoms, feems to carry the stamp of our Author; if the other parts of the mafque appear inferior, I heartily with this were the only place where we have reason to complain of inequalities, either in ftyle, or the matter. I never faw (55) Such precious deeds in one that promised naught But, pray, how can it be faid that one whofe poor looks promife beggary, hould promife poor looks too? No; it was Such noble fary in fo poor a thing; Such precious deeds in one that promifed nought But beggary and poor luck. Cym. No tidings of him? Pif. He hath been fearched among the dead and But no trace of him. Gym. To my grief I am The heir of his reward; which I will add Eliving, To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain; Bel. Sir, In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen: Cym. Bow your knees; Arife my knights o' th' battle; I create you Enter CORNELIUS, and Ladies. There's bufinefs in thefe faces: why fo fadly Cor. Hail, great king! To four your happiness, I must report Cym. Whom worfe than a phyfician not the poor look that was promised; that was visible. We muft read with certainty; But beggary and poor luck. This fets the matter entirely right, and makes Belarius speak fenfe and to the purpofe. For there was the extraordinary thing; he promifed nothing but poor luck, and yet perform cd-fuch wonders. Me l'arburton.* 1 Would this report become? but I confider, Cor. With horror, madly dying, like herself; Cym. Pr'ythee, fay. Gor. First, fhe confefs'd the never loved you: Affected greatnefs got by you, not you: [only Married your royalty, was wife to your place; Cym. She alone knew this: And, but fhe fpoke it dying, I would not Cor. Your daughter, whom the bore in hand to With fuch integrity, fhe did confefs, Was as a fcorpion to her fight; whofe life, Ta'en off by poison. Gym. O most delicate fiend! Who is't can read a woman? is there more? Cor. More, Sir, and worfe. fhe had [love She did confefs For you a mortal mineral; which being took, But failing of her end by his ftrange abfence, E e Of Heaven and men, her purposes: repented Cym. Heard you all this, her women? Were not in fault, for fhe was beautiful: Mine ears that heard her flattery; nor my heart, That thought her like her feeming. It had been Wicious To have mistrusted her. Yet, oh my daughter! That it was folly in me, thou may'st say, And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all ! Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and other Roman Prifoners; LEONATUS behind, and IMOGEN. Thou come not, Caius, now for tribute; that The Britons have razed out, though with the lofs Of many a bold one; whofe kinsmen have made fuit, That their good fouls may be appeafed with flaughter Of you their captives, which ourself have granted. So think of your estate. Luc. Confider, Sir, the chance of war; the day Our prifoners with the fword. But fince the Gods |
