Imo. I'll follow, sir. But first, an 't please the
gods,

I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig: and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strew'd
his grave,

And on it said a century of prayers,

Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep, and sigh;
And, leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.

Luc.
Ay, good youth; ~
And rather father thee than master thee.-
My friends,

The boy hath taught us manly duties: Let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave: Come; arm him."-Boy, he is pre-
ferr'd

By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd
As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine,

eyes:

Some falls are means the happier to arise.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, and PISANIO. Cym. Again; and bring me word how 't is with

her.

A fever with the absence of her son;

a Arm him-take him in your arms.

What is betid to Cloten; but remain
Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work:
Wherein I am false I am honest; not true to be
true.

These present wars shall find I love my country,

Even to the note o' the king, or I'll fall in them.

All other doubts by time let them be clear'd: Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. [Exit.

SCENE IV. Before the Care.

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Gui. The noise is round about us.
Bel.
Let us from it.
Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to
lock it
From action and adventure?

Gui.

Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? this way, the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us; or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.

Bel.
Sons,
We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
To the king's party there's no going: newness
Of Cloten's death (we being not known, not
muster'd

Among the bands) may drive us to a render
Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us that
Which we have done, whose answer would be
death
Drawn on with torture.

Gui. Than be so, Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army: I and my brother are not known; yourself So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown, Cannot be question'd.

Aro.
By this sun that shines,
I'll thither: What thing is it, that I never
Did see man die? scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and ve-
nison?

Never bestrid a horse, save one, that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel? I am asham'd
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his bless'd beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

1 SCENE II.-"But his neat cookery." MRS. LENNOX has the following remark upon this passage:-"This princess, forgetting that she had put on boy's clothes to be a spy upon the actions of her husband, commences cook to two young foresters and their father, who live in a cave; and we are told how nicely she sauced the broths. Certainly this princess had a most economical education." Douce has properly commented upon this impertinence :-"Now what is this but to expose her own ignorance of ancient manners? If she had missed the advantage of qualifying herself as a commentator on Shakspeare's plots by a perusal of our old romances, she ought at least to have remembered, what every well-informed woman of the present age is acquainted with, the education of the princesses in Homer's 'Odyssey.' It is idle to attempt to judge of ancient simplicity by a mere knowledge of modern manners; and such fastidious critics had better close the book of Shakspeare for ever." ('Illustrations,' vol. ii. page 104.)

SCENE II.-"The ruddock would," &c. Percy asks, "Is this an allusion to the babes of the wood or was the notion of the redbreast covering dead bodies general before the writing of that ballad?" It has been shown that the notion has been found in an earlier book of natural his. tory; and there can be no doubt that it was an old popular belief. The redbreast has always been a favourite with the poets, and

"Robin the mean, that best of all loves men,"

as Browne sings, was naturally employed in the last offices of love. Drayton says, directly imitating Shakspere:

"Covering with moss the dead's unclosed eye
The little red breast teacheth charity."

In the beautiful stanza which Gray has omitted from his Elegy the idea is put with his usual exquisite refinement:

"There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year,
By hands unseen, are showers of violets found;
The red breast loves to build and warble there,
And little footsteps lightly print the ground."

3 SCENE II." We have done our obsequics." In the Introductory Notice we have given an opinion as to the dramatic value of the dirge of Collins as compared with that of Shakspere. Taken apart from the scene, it will always be read with pleasure.

A SONG,

Sung by Guiderius and Arviragus over Fidele, supposed to be dead.

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb,

Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet, of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring.

No wailing ghost shall dare appear
To vex with shrieks this quiet grove;
But shepherd lads assemble here,
And melting virgins own their love.
No wither'd witch shall here be seen,

No goblins lead their nightly crew:
The female fays shall haunt the green,

And dress thy grave with pearly dew. The redbreast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers,

To deck the ground where thou art laid.
When howling winds, and beating rain,
In tempests shake the sylvan cell;
Or midst the chase on every plain,
The tender thought on thee shall dwell.

Each lonely scene shall thee restore;
For thee the tear be duly shed:
Belov'd, till life could charm no more;
And mourn'd till pity's self be dead.

SCENE II.-"I saw Jove's bird, the Roman

eagle."

The annexed beautiful coin of Domitian is the best illustration of this passage.

SCENE I.-A Field between the British and

Roman Camps.

Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody handkerchief. Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I am wish'd

Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones,

If each of you should take this course, how many
Must murther wives much better than themselves,
For wrying but a little !-O, Pisanio!
Every good servant does not all commands;
No bond, but to do just ones.-Gods! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had liv'd to put on this: so had you saved
The noble Imogen to repent; and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance: But,
alack,

You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love,
To have them fall no more: you some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,

a Wrying. The use of wry as a verb is uncommon. We have a passage in Sidney's Arcadia' which is at once an example and an explanation :-"That from the right line of virtue are wryed to these crooked shifts."

b To put on-to instigate.

"The last deed is certainly not the oldest," says Dr. Johnson. That is, perhaps, prosaically true; but as the man who goes on in the commission of ill is older when he commits the last ill than when he committed the first. we do not believe that Shakspere, as Malone says, "inadvertently considered the latter evil deed as the elder." The confusion, if

And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift."
But Imogen is your own: Do your best wills,
And make me bless'd to obey!-I am brought
hither

Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom: 'Tis enough
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress. Peace!
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good
heavens,

Hear patiently my purpose; I'll disrobe me

there be any, in the text may be reconciled by Bacon's notion, that what we call the old world is really the young world; and so a man's first sin is his youngest sin.

a The sentiment here is excessively beautiful; but, from the elliptical form of expression which so strikingly prevails in this play, is obscure. Posthumus, it appears to us, is comparing his own state with what he supposes is that of Imogen. She is snatched "hence, for little faults;" he remains "to second ills with ills." But how is it that such as he "dread it?" The commentators believe that there is a misprint. Theobald would read dreaded; Johnson deeded. Steevens interprets "to make them dread it is to make them persevere in the commission of dreadful action"-dread it being used in the same manner as Pope has to sinner it or saint it." The author of the pamphlet we have already quoted, Explanations and Emendations,' &c., thinks that the it refers to rengeance, which occurs four lines above. We cannot feel confident of this; nor do we think with Monck Mason that thrift means something higher than worldly advantagesthe repentance which issues from the dread. We cannot help believing that some word ought to stand in the place of dread it; and, as the small offender is cut off, in love, "to fall no more," so the hardened doer is left to thrive in his offences, as far as this life is concerned. We are inclined to conjecture, although we cannot presume to alter the text, that dread it has been misprinted for do each.

"To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them do each to the doer's thrift."