and freshly grow; then ball Pofthumus end his miferies, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty. Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp; Unknown to you, unfought, were clipt about Cym. This has fome feeming. Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Perfonates thee; and thy lopt branches point Thy two fons forth, who, by Belarius ftol'n, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestic cedar join'd; whofe iffue Promifes Britain peace and plenty. Cym. My peace we will begin; and Caius Lucius, To pay our wonted tribute, from the which On whom Heav'n's justice both on her and hers, Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune The harmony of this peace: the vifion, Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke Cym. Land we the gods! And let the crooked fmokes climb to their noftrils From our bleft altars! Publifh we this peace Friendly together; fo through Lud's town march, Our peace we'll ratify. Seal it with feafts. This play has many just sentiments, fome natural dialogues, and fome pleafing fcenes, but they are obtained at the expence of much incongruity. To remark the folly of the fiction, the abfurdity of the conduct, the confufion of the names and manners of different times, and the impoflibility of the events in any fyftem of life, were to waste criticism upon unrefifting imbecillity, upon faults too evident for detection, and too grofs for aggravation. Johnfon. A SONG, fung by GUIDERIUS and ARVI RAGUS over FIDELE, fuppofed to be dead. Written by Mr WILLIAM COLLINS. To fair Fidele's graffy tomb Soft maids and village hinds all bring No wailing ghost shall dare appear But Thepherd lads affemble here, And melting virgins own their love. III. No wither'd witch shall here be seen, IV. The red-breaft oft at ev'ning hours & V. When howling winds, and beating rain, The tender thought on thee fall dwell. VI. Each lonely fcene shall thee restore, |