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 Pifanio,
Who long'ft like me to fee thy Lord; who long'st,
(Oh, let me 'bate) but not like me; yet long'ft,-
But in a fainter kind-oh, not like me;

For mine's beyond, beyond-fay, and fpeak thick;
Love's counsellor fhould fill the bores of hearing
To th' fmothering of the fenfe-how far it is
To this fame bleffed Milford: and, by th' way,
Tell me how Wales was made fo happy, as
Tinherit fuch a haven. But, first of all,
How may we fteal from hence? and for the gap
That we fhall make in time, from our hence going
Till our return, t' excuse--but firft, how get hence ?
Why should excufe be born, or ere begot?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, fpeak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?

Pif One fcore '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 horfes 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; fay,
She'll home t' her father: and provide me, prefent,
A riding fuit; no costlier than would fit

A Franklin's housewife.

Pif. Madam, you'd best confider.

Imo. I fee before me, man, nor here, nor here, (30)

(33) I fee before me, man, nor bere, nor bere,

Nor what enfues; but bave a fug in them,
That I cannot look thro'.]

Nor

Where is the fubftantive, to which this relative plural, them, can poffibly have any reference? There is none; and the fenfe, as well as grammar, is defective. I have ventur'd to reftore, against the authority of the printed copies,

M 3

-bus

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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Foreft with a Cave, in Wales.

Bel.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

A

gate

Goodly day! not to keep houfe, with fuch
Whofe roof's as low as ours: fee, boys! this

Inftru&ts how t'adore the heav'ns; and bows you
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 fun. Hail, thou fair heav'n!
We houfe i' th' rock, yet use thee not fo hardly
As prouder livers do.

Guid. Hail, heaven!

Arv. Hail, heaven!

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

Your legs are young: I'll tread thefe flats.

Confider,

When you, above, perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which leffens and sets off;
And you may then revolve what tales I told you,
Of courts, of Princes, of the tricks in war;
That fervice is not fervice, fo being done,

Imigen would fay, "Don't talk of confidering, man; I neither fee prefent events, nor confequences; but am in a mift of Fortune, "and am refold to proceed on the project determin'd." In Ken, neans, in profpect, within fight, before my eyes. So, afterwards, in this play;

Milford,

When on the mountain-top Pifanio fhew'd thee,

Thou waft within a ken.

So, in 23 Henry IV.

For, lo! within a ken our army lies.

And in many other paffages.

But

But being fo allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we fee:
And often, to our comfort, fhall we find
The fharded beetle in a fafer hold,
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. Oh, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check;
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble;
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for filk:

Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncrofs'd; no life to ours.

Guid. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor, unfledg'd,

Have never wing'd from view o'th' neft; nor know,
What air's from home. Haply, this life is bett,
If quiet life is best; sweeter to you,

That have a fharper known: well correfponding
With your
ftiff age; but unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;
A prifon, for a debtor that not dares
To ftride a limit.

Arv. What hould we fpeak of,

When we are old as you?" when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December? how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we difcourfe
The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing;
We're beatly; fubtle as the fox for prey,
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat :
Our valour is to chase what flies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prifon'd bird,
And fing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you speak!

Did you but know the city's ufuries,

And felt them knowingly; the art o'th' court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whofe top to climb,
Is certain falling; or fo flipp'ry, that

The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;
A pain, that only feems to feek out danger

I' th' name of fame and honour; which dies i' th' search,
And hath as oft a fland'rous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many time,

M 4

Doth

Doth ill deferve, by doing well: what's worse,
Muft curt'fy at the cenfure: Oh, boys, this story
The world may read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman fwords; and my report was once
Firft with the beft of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a foldier was the theam, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,

Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But, in one night,
A florm, or robbery, call it what you will,

Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves; And left me bare to weather.

Guid. Uncertain favour!

Bel. My fault being nothing, as I have told you oft, But that two villains (whofe falfe oaths prevail'd before my perfect honour) fwore to Cymbeline,

I was confed'rate with the Romans: so,

Follow'd my banishment; and, these twenty years,
This rock and these demefnes, have been my world;
Where I have liv'd at honeft freedom; pay'd
More pious debts to heaven, than in all

The fore-end of my time.-But, up to th' mountains!
This is not hunters' language; he, that ftrikes
The venison firft, fhall be the Lord o`th' feaft;
To him the other two fhall minister,

And we will fear no poison, which attends

In place of greater state:

I'll meet you in the valleys.

[Exeunt Guid. and Arvir.

How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!

These boys know little, they are sons to th' King;
Nor Cymbeline dreams, that they are alive.

They think, they're mine; tho'trained up thus meanly (31)

(31)

-tho' trained up thus meanly

Here in the cave, wherein their thoughts do bit

The roof of palaces.]

I' th'

Thus Mr. Pope; but the fentence breaks off imperfectly. The old editions read,

I' th' cave, whereon the bow their thoughts do bit, &c. Mr. Rowe faw, this likewife was faulty; and therefore amended it

thus:

I' th' cave, where, on the bow, their thoughts de bit, &c.
I think,

I' th' cave, there, on the brow, their thoughts do hit
The roof of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In fimple and low things, to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Paladour, (32)
(The heir of Cymbeline and Britaine, whom
The King his father call'd Guiderius) Jove!
When on my three-foot-ftool I fit, and tell
The warlike feats I've done, his fpirits fly out
Into my ftory: fay, "thus mine enemy
"And thus I fet my foot on's neck".
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words .The younger brother Cadwall,
(Once, Arviragus,) in as like a figure,

-even then

Strikes life into my fpeech, and fhews much more
His own conceiving. Hark, the game is rouz'd.
Oh Cymbeline! heav'n and my conscience know,›
Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon,

At three and two years old, I ftole these babes ; ;
Thinking to bar thee of fucceffion, as

Thou reft'ft me of my lands. Euripbile,

Thou waft their nurse; they take thee for their mother,” And every day do honour to thy grave;

Myfelf Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,

They take for natural father. The game's up, [Exit.

I think, it should be only with the alteration of one letter, and the addition of another;

I' th' cave, there, on the brow, '

And fo the grammar and fyntax of the fentence is compleats. We s call the arching of a cavern, or overbanging of a bill, metaphorically, the brow; and in like manner the Greeks and Latines used ipica and Jupercilium.

a

(32) This Polydore,] Tho' the name be several times writ thus in the old books, I am perfuaded it is not as the Author intended. It is a compound purely Greek, without the turn or foundation of British name. The first time this name is mention'd in both the old folio's, it is written Paladour, as I have reform'd the text; becaufe this, as well as Cadwal, is of the Britifb.cat. What Palan the first name, or Wal in the other, may fignify, I am not deep. enough in Cambrian to know; but dour, or dbär, mens, profitens aqua; as Câd, does Caput.

M5

Enter