will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increasing in love, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS. O, for a horse with wings!-Hear'st thou, Pisanio? Glide thither in a day?-Then, true Pisanio, For mine's beyond beyond,) say, and speak thick,' Pis. One score, 'twixt sun and sun, Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.. Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wagers, Where horses have been nimbler than the sands That run 'the clock's behalf:-But this is foolery: 1 possible. speak thick,] i. e. croud one word on another, as fast as 2 Why should excuse be born or e'er begot?] Why should I contrive an excuse, before the act is done, for which excuse will be necessary? Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say She'll home to her father: and provide me, pre sently, A riding suit; no costlier than would fit A franklin's housewife.3 Pis. Madam, you're best consider. Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them, That I cannot look through. Away, I pr'ythee; Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say; Accessible is none but Milford way. SCENE III. [Exeunt. Wales. A mountainous Country, with a Cave. Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys: This gate Instructs you how to adore the heavens; and bows you 5 To morning's holy office: The gates of monarchs Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet* through And keep their impious turbands on, without Good morrow to the sun.-Hail, thou fair heaven! We house i'the rock, yet use thee not so hardly As prouder livers do. 3 Gui. Hail, heaven! Hail, heaven! Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon hill, A franklin's housewife.] A franklin is literally a freeholder, with a small estate, neither villain nor vassal. 4 5 may jet-] i. e. strut, walk proudly. Their impious turbands on,] The idea of a giant was, among the readers of romances, who were almost all the readers of those times, always confounded with that of a Saracen. you, Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider, 8 Have never wing'd from view o'the nest; nor know not What air's from home. Haply, this life is best, That have a sharper known; well corresponding 6 This service is not service, &c.] In war it is not sufficient to do duty well; the advantage rises not from the act, but the acceptance of the act. The sharded beetle-] i. e. the beetle whose wings are enclosed within two dry husks or shurds. 8 attending for a check;] Check may mean, in this place, a reproof; but I rather think it signifies command, controul. Thus, in Troilus and Cressida, the restrictions of Aristotle are called Aristotle's checks. STEEVENS. 9 than doing nothing for a babe;] As it was once the custom in England for favourites at court to beg the wardship of infants who were born to great riches, our author may allude to it on this occasion. Frequent complaints were made that nothing was done towards the education of these neglected orphans. I --- no life to ours.] i, e. compared with ours. A cell of ignorance; travelling abed; Arv. What should we speak of,3 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 chace what flies; our cage We make a quire, as doth the prison bird, And sing our bondage freely. Bel. How you speak! And felt them knowingly: the art o'the court, The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war, And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, As record of fair act; nay, many times, 2 To stride a limit.] To overpass his bound. • What should we speak of,] This dread of an old age, unsupplied with matter for discourse and meditation, is a sentiment natural and noble. No state can be more destitute than that of him, who, when the delights of sense forsake him, has no pleasures of the mind. JOHNSON. Whose boughs did bend with fruit: but, in one night, A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, And left me bare to weather. Gui. Uncertain favour! Bel. My fault being nothing (as I have told you oft,) But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd The fore-end of my time.-But, up to the mountains ; This is not hunters' language:-He, that strikes And we will fear no poison, which attends leys. In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the val- They think, they are mine: and, though train'd up thus meanly I'the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit |