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

begot

A father to me: and thou haft created

A mother, and two brothers: But (O fcorn!)
Gone! they went hence fo foon as they were born.
And fo I am awake.-Poor wretches, that depend
On greatnefs' 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; fo am I,

That have this golden chance, and know not why.
What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O, rare one!
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers: let thy effects

So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promife.

[ Reads. ]

When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without feeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar fhall be lopt branches, which, being dead many years, fhall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Pofthumus end his miferies, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.

'Tis ftill a dream; or else such stuff as madmen Tongue, and brain not: either both, or nothing: Or fenfeless speaking, or a speaking fuch

As fenfe cannot untie. Be what it is,

The action of my life is like it, which
I'll keep if but for fympathy.

"'Tis fill a dream; &c.]-This is a dream, or madness, or both, or nothing but whether it be a speech without consciousness, as in a dream, or unintelligible, as in madnefs, be it as it may, 'tis like my courfe of life, and I'll preserve it for that reason.

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Re-enter Gaolers.

Gaol. Come, fir, are you ready for death?
Poft. Over-roafted rather: ready long ago.

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

Poft. So, if I prove a good repaft to the fpectators, the difh pays the fhot.

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Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, fir: But the comfort is, you shall be call'd to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sadness 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 w you are paid too much; purfe and brain both empty: the brain the heavier, for being too light; the purfe too light, being drawn of heavinefs: O! of this contradiction you fhall now be quit.-O, the charity of a penny cord! it fums up thoufands in a trice you have no true ' debitor and creditor but it; of what's paft, is, and to come, the discharge:Your neck, fir, is pen, book, and counters; fo the acquittance follows.

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

Gaol. Indeed, fir, he that fleeps feels not the toothach: 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, fir, you know not which way you fhall

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go.

you are paid too much;]-by the liquor, overcome, intoxicated. "I paid nothing-but was paid for my learning."

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MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, Vol. I. p. 247. Fal. feven of the eleven I paid."

HENRY IV. Part I. A&t II. S. 4. Fal.

* drawn of beaviness:]-embowelled, emptied of its contents. Y debitor and creditor]-mode of adjufting the accounts between them. 2 counters]-were formerly ufed as a means of reckoning.

Poft.

Poft. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow.

Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have not seen him so pictur'd: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that, which I am fure you do not know; or jump the afterenquiry 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.

Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use 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 prisoner to the king.

Poft. Thou bring'ft good news; I-am call'd to be made free.

Gaol. I'll be hang'd then.

b

Poft. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt Pofthumus, and Messenger. Gaol. Unless 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 some 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 present profit; but my wifh hath a preferment in't.

2

[Exit.

jump the after-enquiry]-venture upon it without any forethought. "We'd jump the life to come." MACBETH, Vol. II. p. 623. Mach. "For the life to come," &c. WINTER'S TALE, A& IV. S. 2. Aut. fo prone.1-fo prompt for execution.

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SCENE

SCENE V.

Cymbeline's Tent.

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

Cym. Stand by my fide, you, whom the gods have made Prefervers of my throne. Woe is my heart,

That the poor foldier, that so richly fought,
Whofe rags fham'd gilded arms, whofe naked breast
Stept before targe of proof, cannot be found;
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him fo.

Bel. I never faw

Such noble fury in fo poor a thing;

d

Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nought

But beggary and poor looks.

Cym. No tidings of him?

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

Cym. To my grief, I am

The heir of his reward; which I will add

To

you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,

[To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus, By whom, I grant, fhe lives: 'Tis now the time To ask of whence you are:-report it.

Bel. Sir,

In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen:

Further to boast, were neither true nor módeft,
Unless I add, we are honeft.

targe]-targets.

that promis'd nought, &c.]-whofe appearance gave no fign of fuch

a difplay of courage.

bis reward;]-of that reward, which he fhould have received.

Cym

Cym. Bow your knees:

Arise my knights o' the 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 these faces :-Why fo fadly
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
And not o' the court of Britain.

Cor. Hail, great king!

To four your happiness, I must report
The queen
is dead.

Cym. Whom worse than a physician
Would this report become? But I confider,
By medicine death may be prolong'd, yet death
Will feize the doctor too.-How ended fhe?

Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life;
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
Moft cruel to herself. What fhe confess'd,
I will report, so please you: These her women
Cantrip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks,
Were present when the finish'd.

Cym. Pr'ythee, fay.

Cor. First, the confefs'd she never lov'd you; only

Affected greatness 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. Your daughter, whom fhe " bore in hand to love With fuch integrity, fhe did confefs

f knights o' the battle;]-now ftiled Bannerets, trip me,]-catch me tripping, detect me. bere in band]-affected, pretended.

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Was

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