Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spec

tators, the dish pays the shot.

First Jail. A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is, you shall be called to no 160 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; sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty, the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: of this contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the 170 charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge: your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows.

Post. I am merrier to die than thou art to live. First Jail. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache: but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to 180 bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.

Post. Yes, indeed do I, fellow.

First Jail. Your death has eyes in 's head then;
I have not seen him so pictured: you must

166. "Paid" here means "subdued or overcome by the liquor.H. N. H.

either be directed by some that take upon them to know, or to take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril: and 190 how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one. Post. 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.

First Jail. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging 's the way of winking.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your pris- 200 oner to the king.

Post. Thou bringest good news, I am called to be made free.

First Jail. I'll be hanged then.

Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer; no bolts for the dead.

[Exeunt all but First Jailer. First Jail. Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a 210 Roman: and there be some of them too, that die against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good; O, there were desolation of jailers and gallowses! I speak against my

present profit, but my wish hath a prefer

ment in 't.

SCENE V

[Exit.

Cymbeline's tent.

Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, Pisanio, Lords, Officers and Attendants.

Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made

Bel.

Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart,
That the poor soldier, that so richly fought,
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked
breast

Stepp'd before targes of proof, cannot be
found:

He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.

I never saw
Such noble fury in so poor a thing;

Such precious deeds in one that promised nought
But beggary and poor

Cym.

looks.

Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and liv

ing,

But no trace of him.

Cym.

To my grief, I am

The heir of his reward; [To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus] which I will add

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

Bel.

By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are: report it.

Sir,

In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen:
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add we are honest.

Cym.

Cor.

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.

20

There's business in these faces. Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
And not o' the court of Britain.

Hail, great king!
To sour your happiness, I must report
The queen is dead.

Cym.

Who worse than a physician Would this report become? But I consider, By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death Will seize the doctor too. How ended she? 30 Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; Which, being cruel to the world, concluded Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd I will report, so please you: these her women Can trip me if I err; who with wet cheeks Were present when she finish'd.

Cym.

Prithee, say.

Cor. First, she confess'd she never loved you, only

23. So in Macbeth: "The business of this man looks out of him." -H. N. H.

Affected greatness got by you, not you:
Married your royalty, was wife to your place,
Abhorr'd your person.

Cym.

She alone knew this;

40

And, but she spoke in dying, I would not Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed. Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love With such integrity, she did confess Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life, But that her flight prevented it, she had Ta'en off by poison.

Cym.

O most delicate fiend!

Is there more? She did confess she

Who is 't can read a woman?
Cor. More, sir, and worse.
had

For you a mortal mineral; which, being took, 50
Should by the minute feed on life and lingering
By inches waste you: in which time she pur-
posed,

By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her show, and in time,
When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
Her son into the adoption of the crown:
But, failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperate; open'd, in despite
Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so 60
Despairing died.

Cym.

Heard you all this, her women?

54. "and in time"; so F. 1; Ff. 2, 3, 4, "yes and in time”; S. Walker conj. “and in due time," etc.-I. G.

55. "to work her son into the adoption of the crown"; to procure his adoption as heir.-C. H. H.