Will I set up my everlasting rest; And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies. Enter at the other end of the Church-Yard, Friar LAURENCE, with a Lantern, Crow, and Spade. Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft tonight Have my old feet stumbled at graves ?-Who's Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light Bal. It doth so, holy Sir; and there's my One that you love. Fri. Who is it? Bal. Romeo. Fri. How long hath he been there? Bal. Full half an hour. ·Fri. Go with me to the vault. » Bat. I dare not, Sir: My master knows not, but I am gone hence; I did stay to look on his intents. Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone :-Fear comes upon me: O much I fear some ill unlucky thing. Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, Fri. Romeo? [Advances. Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains What mean these masterless and gory swords الله too? And steep'd in blood 1-Ah! what an unkind Is guilty of this lamentable chance !— [Noise within. Fri. hear some noise.-Lady, come from Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep; Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; away, What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, bath been his timeless end :- • Conductor. way? Jul. Yea, noise ?-then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger ! [Snatching ROMEO's Dagger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herselj.] there rust, and let me die. [Falls on RoMEO's Body, and dies. Enter WATCH, with the PAGE of PARIS. Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. 1 Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. Pitiful sight; here lies the county slain ;- Enter some of the WATCH, with BALTHAZAR. 1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince Enter another WATCHMAN, with Friar 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. La. Cap. The people in the street cry- Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run, Prince. What fear is this, which startles in 1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Prince. Search, seek, and know how this font 1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd With instruments upon them, fit to open Cap. O heaveus! O wife! look how our daugh- This dagger hath mista'en,-for lo! his house ⚫ That warns my old age to a sepulchire. To see thy son and heir more early down. 1. c. The scabbard. Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath :| All this I know; and to the marriage Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in To press before thy father to a grave? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, 'Till we an clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; And then will I be general of your woes, Her nurse is privy: And, if aught in this Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? Bal. 1 brought my master news of Juliet's death; And then in post he came from Mantua, And lead you even to death: Meantiine for- To this same place, to this same monument. bear, And let mischance be slave to patience.- Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least, And here I stand, both to impeach and purge Myself condemned and myself accus'd. Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet ; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife : I married them; and their stolen-marriageday Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city; This letter he early bid me give his father; Where be these enemies? Capulet! MontaFor whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd. gue!You-to remove that siege of grief from her,- See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, Betroth'd, and would have married her per-That heaven finds means to kill your joys force, To ounty Paris :-Then comes she to me; But he which bore my letter, friar John, • Seat. with love! And I, for winking at your discords too, Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand: This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Mon. But I can give thee more: Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie; The sun for sorrow will not show his head : Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some pun- For never was a story of more woe, AS a piece for dramatic exhibition, this tragedy has been essentially improved by the celebrated Mr. Garrick ; not only in the style and language, by which the jingle and quibble of many of its passages are expunged, but also by the transposition of several scenes, and by the following essential deviation from the original plot : As amended by him, and represented at present, no mention is made of Rosaline, and the sudden and unnatural change of Romeo's affection from her to Juliet is thereby avoided: Juliet also revives from her death-like slumber before the potion has fully operated upon the frame of Romeo, and he dies in her arms, after attempting to carry her from the tomb. By this most judicious alteration, the pathos of the scene is heightened to its highest pitch; for nothing can be more melting than the incidents and expressions which so highly-wrought a catastrophe affords. In the Italian story upon which the play is founded, such was actually the development of the plot; but Shakspeare had certainly recourse to the English or French translation; in which this addition to the tale was upon some Bccount omitted. LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. MALONE supposes that Shakspeare wrote Cymbeline in the year 1605. The main incidents upon which the plot turns, occur in a novel of Boccaccio's; but our poet obtained them in a different shape, from an old storybook entitled Westward for Smelts. Cymbeline, who gives name to the play, but is a cipher of royalty, began to reign over Britain in the 19th year of Augustus Cæsar. He filled the throne during thirty-five years, leaving two sons, Guiderius and Arviragus. The play commences in the 16th year of the Christian era, which was the 24th year of Cymbeline's reign, and the 42nd of Augustus's. The subject of the piece is disjointed and much too diffuse it exhibits some monstrous breaches of dramatic unity, and several very languid and make-shift scenes. But the part of Imogen is most delicately and delightfully drawn; her ideas are remarkably luxuriaat, yet restrained; and the natural warmth of her affections is, in many instances, most beautifully expressed. Cloten is an incongruous animal, with some strong points about him; and a fine contrast to Posthumus, who is sketched with great judgment, feeling, and consistency. The Queen is an unfinished character, desirous of producing mischief, but possessing neither energy nor ability to accomplish her schemes; and though lachimo's cunning is portrayed with uncommon skill in his first attempt upon Imogen's virtue, yet his subsequent penitence and candour (however conducive to the moral) are not consistent with the usual hardihood of se thorough-paced a villain. Notwithstanding its fine passages and affecting incidents, this play was lost to the stage until Garrick undertook to revise it, by the abridgment of some scenes, and the transposition of others, it was reduced within the compass of a night's performance; and has since continued a periodical favourite with the public. Dr. Johnson decides the merits of this historical drama in the following summary manner To remark the folly of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the confusion of the names and manners of different times, and the impossibility of the events in any system of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting imbecility, upon faults too evident for detection, and too gross for aggravation." No one can deny the elegance or point of the Doctor's critical sentences, nor their murderous efficiency when meant to despatch an adversary at a single blow; but the greatest fault of our poet consists in his having christened some characters of the first century with names which belonged to the fifteenth; and in his having seasoned their antique Roman honesty with a smattering of modern Italian villany. CYMBELINE, King of Britain. DRAMATIS PERSONE. CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a former husband. LEONATUS POSTHUMUS, a Gentleman, Husband to Imogen. BELARIUS, a banished Lord, disguised under the name of Morgan. GUIDERIUS, Sons to Cymbeline, disguised PHILARIO, Friend to Posthumus, } Italians. JACHIMO, Friend to Philario, A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, Friend to Philario. A ROMAN CAPTAIN. Two BRITISH CAPTAINS. QUEEN, Wife to Cymbeline. Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, SCENE, sometimes in Britain; sometimes in Italy. 1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his He purpos'd to his wife's sole son, (a widow, 2 Gent. None but the king? 1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the [tier, queen, That most desir'd the match: But not a cour 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 So soon as I can win the offended king, aI will be known your advocate: marry, yet The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good You lean'd unto his sentence, with what pa tience Too bad for bad report: and he that bath her, In him that should compare. I do not think 2 Gent. You speak him far. 1 Gent. I do extend him, Sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly. 2 Gent. What's his name, and birth? His Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour (Then old and fond of issue,) took snch sorrow, As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and Hath charg'd you should not speak together. His rage can do on me: You must be gone; Post. My queen! my mistress! To walk this way: I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries, to be friends; Pays dear for my offences. Post. Should we be taking leave Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue; As long a term as yet we have to live, By her election may be truly read, What kind of man he is. 2 Gent. I honour him [Ex it. The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu ! Imo. Nay, stay a little : Even out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me, Were you but riding forth to air yourself, 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 [knowledge Were stolen and, to this hour, no guess in Which way they went. 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. 2 Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd ! So slackly guarded! And the search so slow, 1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, Sir. 2 Gent. I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear: Here come the queen and princess. SCENE 11.-The same. Exeunt. Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter, Such parting were too petty. Look here, love; Post. How! how! another?- [Putting on the Ring. While sense + can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, To your so infiuite loss; so, in our trifles I still win of you: For my sake, wear this; It is a maxacle of love: I'll place it After the slander of most step-mothers, • You are lavish in your encomiums. 1 To be at once loved and praised, is truly rare. Formed their manners. [Putting a Bracelet on her Arm. Imo. O the gods! When shall we see again? If, after this command, thou fraught the court Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death That should'st repair my youth; thou heapest Imo. I beseech you, Sir, Harm not yourself with your vexation; I Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare. Subdues all pangs, all fears. Cym. Past grace? obedience Imo. Past hope, and in despair: that way, past grace. Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my queen! Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock. + Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne A seat for baseness. Imo. No; I rather added A lustre to it. Cym. O thou vile one! Imo. Sir, It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus : Cym. What I-art thou mad ? Imo. Almost, Sir: Heaven restore me! 'Would I were A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus Re-enter QUEEN. Cym. Thou foolish thing! SCENE III-A Public Place. Enter CLOTEN, and two LORDS. 1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action bath made you reek as a sacrifice: Where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent. Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it -Have I hurt him? 2 Lord. No, faith; not so much as his pa tience. [Aside. 1 Lord. Hurt him? his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a thoroughfare for steel if it be not hurt. 2 Lord. His steel was in debt; it went o'the backside the town. [Aside. Clo. The villain would not stand me. 2 Lord. No; but he fled forward still, toward [Aside. your face. 1 Lord. Stand you! You had land enough of your own but he added to your having; gave you some ground. 2 Lord. As many inches as you have oceans : Puppies! [Aside. Clo. I would, they bad not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, till you bad measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. [Aside. Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me! 2 Lord. If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. [Aside. 1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together: She's a [To the QUEEN.good sign, but I have seen small reflection of They were again together: you have done Not after our command. Away with her, Queen. 'Beseech your patience :- Peace, comfort Out of your best advice. Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day; and, being aged, Enter PISANIO. Queen. Fie !-you must give way: her wit. + 2 Lord. She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. [Aside. Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber: 'Would there had been some hurt done! 2 Lord. I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. Here is your servant.-How now, Sir? What news ? Pis. My lord, your son drew on my master. No harm, I trust, is done? Pis. There might have been, But that my master rather play'd than fought, Queen. I am very glad on't. Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part. To draw upon an exile !-O brave Sir!- master? Pis. On his command: He would not suffer [Aside. [Exeunt. |