« Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men; (49) "To darkness fleet fouls that fly backwards! stand; "Or we are Romans, and will give you that (50) "Like beafts, which you fhun beastly, and may "fave

"But to look back in frown: ftand, ftand."-
These three,

Three thousand confident, in act as many;
(For three performers are the file, when all
The reft do nothing) with this word, " Stand, ftand,"
Accommodated by the place, (more charming
With their own noblenefs, which could have turned
A diftaff to a lance) gilded pale looks;

Part fhame, part fpirit-renewed; that some, turned
But by example, (oh, a fin in war,

[coward

(49) Our Britains hearts die flying, not our men ;] Thus all the editions, and thus Mr Pope in his Quarto edition, moft implicitly obfequious to nonfenfe. I corrected the paffage in the appendix to my Seakespeare Restored, as I have now reformed it in the text (and as Dr Thirlby likewife faw it fhould be); and Mr Pope has followed my correction in his laft edition of our Author.

(50) --and will give you that

Like beafts, which you fhun beaftly, and may fave
But to look back in front:]

Looking back in front is a phrafe which Mr Pope, if he pleases, may referve for his own collection of elegancies; but I cannot admit it to be palmed upon our Author. We must read with the old copies;

But to look back in frown.

i. e. If you will but turn upon the enemy, and shew them you can look angry.

So, in the Tempelt;

They being penitent,

The fole drift of my purpofe doth extend

Not a frown further.

And fo, in Antony and Cleopatra;

Good brother,

Let me requeft you off; our graver bufinefs
Frowns at this levity.

2

Damned in the firft beginners!) "gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o' th' hunters. Then began
A ftop i' th' chafer, a retire; anon,

A rout, confufion thick. Forthwith they fly Chickens, the way which they stooped eagles; flaves, The ftrides they victors made: and now our cow Like fragments in hard voyages, became

[ards,

The life o' th' need; having found the back door

open

Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they wound
Some flain before, fome dying; fome, their friends
O'er-born i' th' former wave; ten, chaced by one,
Are now each one the flaughter-man of twenty;
Thofe, that would die or ere refift, are grown
The mortal-bugs of th' field.

Lord. This was ftrange chance,

A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys!
Poft. (51) Nay, do but wonder at it; you are
made

Rather to wonder at the things you hear,
Than to work

any. Will you rhime upon't, And vent it for a mockery? here is one:

Two boys, an old man, (twice a boy,) a lane, Preferved the Britons, was the Romans' bane." Lord. Nay, be not angry, Sir.

Poft. 'Lack! to what end?

Who dares not ftand his foe, I'll be his friend;

(51) Nay, do not wonder at it, you are made

Rather to wonder at the things you hear,

Than to work any.]

Sure this is mock-reafoning with a vengeance. What! because he was made fitter to wonder at great actions, than to perform any, is he therefore forbid to wonder? I corrected the paffage in the appendix to my Shakspeare Restored; and Mr Pope has followed my correction in his last edition:

VOL. X.

D d

For if he'll do as he is made to do,
I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhimes.

Lord. Farewel, you are angry.

[Exit.

Poft. This is a Lord-oh noble mifery, To be i' th' field, and ask what news, of me! To-day, how many would have given their honours To've faved their carcaffes? took heel to do't, And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charmed, Could not find death where I did hear him groan, Nor feel him where he ftruck. This ugly monster,-'Tis ftrange he hides him in fresh cups, foft beds, Sweet words; or hath more minifters than we, That draw his knives i' th' war

find him, (52),

Well, I will

For being now a favourer to the Briton,

((52)

-Well, I will find him;

For being now a favourer to the Britain,
No more a Britain, I've refumed again
The part I came in.]

This is a very obfcure paffage; and without the helps it would receive from the reprefentation, wants a little clearing up. Pofthumus comes over with the Roman bands, but re folved not to fight against his country, he puts the habit of British peafant over his Italian drefs, and does feats of defperation against the Romans, in hopes of meeting his death from their fwords. The fortune of the day is turned, and the Britons gain the field. Upon this, Rofthumus fhifts back into his Italian garb; fays he will find death; for though he's now a favourer to the Britons in heart, he'll not confefs himself of that country, but yield himself a prifoner to the meanest of the victor-party, and fo fall a facrifice to their refentment. For the captives we find, in the fequel of the play, were by the cuftoms of the Britons to be victims to the manes of thofe flain on the victors party. That Pofthumus does again fhift bis habit, is evident from this circumftance; the Britons furprize him, and asking who he is, he replies;

A Roman;

Who had not now been drooping here, if feconds
Had answered him.

No more a Briton, I've refumed again
The part I came in. Fight I will no more,
But yield me to the verieft hind that shall

Once touch my fhoulder. Great the flaughter is
Here made by the Roman; great the answer be,-
Britons must take. For me, my ranfom's death;;
On either fide I come to spend my breath;
Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,
But end it by fome means for Imogen,

Enter two British Captains, and Soldiers.

1 Cap. Great Jupiter be praifed, Lucius is taken! 'Tis thought, the old man, and his fons, were an~gels.

2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a filly habit, That gave the affront with them.

1 Cap. So 'tis reported;

But none of them can be found. Stand, who's there?

Poft A Roman

Who had not now been drooping here, if feconds Had answered him..

Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog!

A leg of Rome fhall not return to tell

[fervice,

What crows have pecked them here. He brags his As if he were of note; bring him to th' King.

Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman Captives. The Captains prefent Pofthumus to Cymbeline, who delivers him over to a Goalor. After which, all go out.

Of the old Britons facrificing captives to Andate, their goddess of victory, many Authors have spoken; and of their custom of burning numbers in their great wicker image, Holingfhead makes mention; but Sammes, in his Britannia, is par ticularly copious upon it.

SCENE changes to a Prifon.

Enter POSTHUMUS, and two Goalers.

1 Goal. You fhall not now be ftolen, you've locks

So

graze as you find pasture.

2 Goal. Ay, or stomach.

[upon you [Exeunt Goalors.

Poft. Moft welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, I think, to liberty; yet am I better

Than one that's fick o' th' gout, fince he had rather Groan fo in perpetuity than be cured

By the fure phyfician, death; who is the key Tunbar thofe locks. My confcience! thou art fettered

More than my shanks and wrifts; you good Gods. give me

The penitent inftrument to pick that bolt;
Then free for ever.

Is't enough I'm forry?

So children temp'ral fathers do appeafe;

Gods are more full of mercy.------Must I repent? I cannot do it better than in gyves,

Defired more than conftrained; to fatisfy, (53)

(53)

-To fatisfy,

If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take

No ftritter render of me than my all.]

Nonfenfe has one happy property, in that one needs not many words to be made fenfible of it; but 'tis, in this reipect, like light, perceived as foon as fewn. Such is the glaring nonfenfe of thefe lines. What we can discover from them this, that the fpeaker in a fit of penitency towards Heaven, compares his circumftances with a debtor's who is willing to furrender up all to appeafe his creditor. This being the fenfe in general, I may venture to say, the true reading must have been thus;

-To fatisfy,

I d' off my freedom; 'tis the main part; take,
No ftricter render of me than. my all.

The verb doff is too frequently used by our Author to need any quotations in proof; and furely, here with peculiar