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That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
1- is the woman's part; be it lying, note it,
The woman's flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Luf, and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
Ambtions, coverings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice-longing, flanders, mutability;
All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part, or all; but rather all. For even
They are not constant, but are changing still ;
One vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them--yet 'tis greater fkill
In a true hate, to pray they have their will;
The very devils cannot plague them better.

to vice

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A Wife's Impatience to meet her Husband. (8) Oh, for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pi. fanio?

He

(8) Nothing can be conceived more natural and more inimi. table than this impatient fondness of the faithful and amiable wife : The no sooner hears news of her husband, than she is im. mediately even for flying to him, for gliding thither in an inItant'of time : Pifanio's assistance was necessary : she knew he loved his lord ; she tells him so; how then does the jealous fond. ness of her affection break out- -None could love him, none must long to see him like her: The must be told of the place, the distance, the manner of going, ere it can possibly be told; the must contrive how to escape, she must invent an excuse--foolish and impertinent; she then reflects—how must the be gone; how many score miles can fhe ride 'twixt hour and hour ? how mortifying the reply! but one fcore betwixt-not hour and hour, but sun and sun! disgusted at this, she wants to hear no more of it, but meditates solely her departure. Her trusty Pisanio wishes her to consider of this dangerous step. She replies, “ It is enough for me that I see before me—I do that, indeed ; but neither here nor here, (what is on this hand or that hand, ] nor what ensues, (what is or may be the consequence of this step]

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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 Pisanio,
Who long'it like me, to see thy lord; who long't-
(Oh, let me bate) but not like me, yet long'st
But in a fainter kind Oh, not like mė;
For mine's beyond, beyonday, and speak thick:
Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing
To th' (mothering of the sense-how far it is
To this fame bleised Milford? And by th' way,
Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
T'inherit such a haven. But first of all
How may we steal from hence: and for the gap
That we shall make in time, froin our hence going,
And our return t'excuse_but first, how get hence?
Why should excuse be born, or e'er begot?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Prithee, 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 have heard of riding wagers, Where horfes have been nimbler than the sands That run i'th' clocks behalf. But this is foolery. Go, bid my woman feign a sickness, fay She'll home to her father, and provide me, present, A riding fuit: no costlier than would fic A franklin's housewife.

Pif. Madam, you'd best confider.

Imo. I fee before me, man; nor here, nor here,
Nor what enfues, but have a fog in them,
That I cannot look thro'. Away, I prithee,

Do

but have a fog in them which I cannot pierce thro': all things, but just the present, before my fight are dark and misty to me.”—This is certainly a just and natural sense of the passage, and confequeAtly, preferable to any other, which the alteration of critics render precarious.

Do as I bid thee; there's no more to say;
Accessible is none but Milford way.

[Exeuns

Scene III. A Forest, with a Cave in Wales.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Bel. (9) A goodly day! not to keep house, with such,
Who's roof's as low as ours : see boys! this gate

Instructs

(9) A goodly, &c.] If the reader will be pleased to consult the 2d Act and 2d Scene of the Two noble Kinfinen, he will find, as has been obferved, “ great fimilitude of sentiment, style, and spirit :" Palamon and Arcite are there introduced into prison together ;--Arcite, amongst other things observes;

This is all our world-
We shall know nothing here but one another :
Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes :
The vine fhall grow, but we shall never see it :
Summer shall come, and with her all delights,

But dead cold winter must inhabit here still.
Pal. 'Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban hounds

That Thook the aged forests with their echoes,
No more now muft we hollow, no more fhaks
Our pointed javelin, whilst the angry swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,
Struck with our well-steel'd darts. All valiant uses,
The food and nourishment of noble minds,
In us two here shall perish: we shall die,
Which is the curse of honour, lazily,

Children of grief and ignorance.
Arr. Yet, cousin,

Even from the bottom of these miferies,
From all that fortune can inflict upon us,
I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings,
If the gods please to hold here, a brave patience,
And the enjoying of our griefs together.
Whilft Palamon is with me, let me perish,
If I think this our prison.

* *
Let's think this prison a holy fanctuary,
To keep us from corruption of worfe men;
We're young, and yet desire the ways of honour,
Thät liberty and coniinon conversation,

The

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Instructs

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how t'adore the heav’ns; and bows you To morning's holy office. Gates of monarchs Are arch'd so high, that giants may get thro' And keep their impious turbands on, without Good-morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heav'n! We house i'th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly, As prouder livers do. Guid. Hail, heav'n !

Arve

The poison of pure spirits, might, like women,
Woo us, to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be, but our imaginations
May make it ours ? and here being thus together
We are an endless mine to one another ;
We're one another's wife, ever begetting
New births of love : we're father, friends, acquaintance,
We are in one another, families,
I am your heir, and you are mine : this place
Is our inheritance: no hard oppressor
Dare take this from us : here, with a little patienceg
We shall live long, and loving: no surfeits seek us:
The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas
Swallow their youth : were we at liberty
A wife might part us lawfully, or business ;
Quarrels consume us : envy of ill men
Reave our acquaintance: I might ficken, cousing .
Where you fhould never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods: a thousand chances

Were we from hence wou'd sever us.
Pal. You have made me,

(I thank you, cousin Arcite) almost wanton
With my captivity: what a misery
It is to live abroad, and every where?
'Tis like a beast, methinks: I find the court here ;
I'm sure a more content, and all those pleasures
That woo the wills of men to vanity,
I see thro' now: and am sufficient
To tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow.
That old time, as he passes by, takes with him.
What had we been? been old in the court of Creon,
Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance,
The virtues of the great ones : cousin, Arcite,
Had not the loving gods found this place for us,
W' had died as they do, ill old men unwept,
And had their epitaphs the peoples curses.

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Arv. Hail, heav'n!

Bel. Now for our mountain sport: up to yond hill, Your legs are young: I'll tread these flats. Consider, When

you

above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens and sets off,
And you may then revolve what tales I've told you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war,
That service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see:
And often to our comfort shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer 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 uncross’d: no life to ours.
* Guid. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor, une

fledg'd,
Have never wing'd from view o'th' nest; nor know
What air's from home. Hap’ly this life is best,
If quiet life is best; sweeter to you
That have a sharper known: well corresponding

stiff age; but unto us it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed,
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To ftride a limit.

Arv. What should we speak 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 discourse
The freezing hours away? we have seen nothing:
We are beastly; subtle 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 prison's bird,
And sing our bondage freely.

Всі.

With your

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