In solem show, attend this funeral;
And then to Rome.-Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood,
And on the sudden dropp'd.
Cas.

O noble weakness!-
If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By external swelling: "but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.'

Dol.

Here, on her breast, There is a vent of blood, and something blown: The like is on her arm.

1 Guard. This is an aspic's trail: and these
leaves

Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.

Cas.

Most probable,
That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite
Of easy ways to die.-Take up her bed;
And bear her women from the monument:-
She shall be buried by her Antony:
No grave upon the earth shall clip' in it
A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them: and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall,

[Exeunt.

This play keeps curiosity always busy, and the passions always interested. The continual hurry of the action, the variety of incidents, and the quick fig-succession of one personage to another, call the mind forward without intermission, from the first act to the last. But the power of delighting is derived principally from the frequent changes of the scene; for, except the feminine arts, some of which are too low, which distinguish Cleopatra, no character is very strongly discriminated. Upton, who did not easily miss what he desired to find, has discovered that the language of Antony is, with great skill and learning, made pompous and superb, according to his real practice. But I think his diction not distinguishable from that of others: the most tumid speech in the play is that which Cæsar makes to Octavia.

The events, of which the principal are described according to history, are produced without any art of connection or care of disposition.

JOHNSON.

SCENE I.-Britain. The garden behind Cymbeline's palace. Enter Two Gentlemen.

1 Gentleman.

His measure duly.'
2 Gent.

What's his name, and birth?
1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father
Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,
Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius,4 whom
He serv'd with glory and admir'd success:

You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods' So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus:

No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers;
Still seem, as does the king's.
2 Gent.
But what's the matter?
1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his king-
dom, whom

He purpos'd to his wife's sole son (a widow,
That late he married,) hath referr'd herself
Unto a po or but worthy gentleman: She's wedded;
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all
Is outward sorrow; though, I think, the king
Be touch'd at very heart.

2 Gent.

None but the king?

1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the
queen,

That most desir'd the match: But not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 Gent.

And why so?

1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is
thing

Too bad for bad report: And he that hath her,
(I mean, that married her,—alack, good man!—
And therefore banish'd) is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth
For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward, and such stuff within,
Endows a man but he.
2 Gent.
You speak him far.2
1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself;
Crush him together, rather than unfold

And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o'the time,
Died with their swords in hand; for which their
father

(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,
(Which rare it is to do,) most prais'd, most lov'd:
A sample to the youngest; to the more mature,
A glass that feated' them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd,-her own price
a Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read,
What kind of man he is.

I honour him

2 Gent. Even out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me, Is she sole child to the king?

1 Gent.

His only child.
He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old,
I'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen and to this hour, no guess in know-
ledge
Which way they went.
2 Gent.

How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years.

(4) The father of Cymbeline.
(5) Formed their manners.

2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con- | You gentle gods, give me but this I have, vey'd !

How! how! another?-A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,