Joy'd are we, that you are.

Poft. Your fervant, princes. *

Cym. My peace we will begin: and Caius Lucius, Although the victor, we fubmit to Cæfar,

And to the Roman empire; promifing

To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were diffuaded by our wicked Queen,

On whom heav'n's justice (both on her, and hers)
Hath laid most heavy hand.

HEN as a lion's whelp fhall, to himself unknown, without feeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a ftately cedar fball be lopt branches, which being dead many years, fhall after revive, be jointed to the old flock, and freshly grow, then fhall Pofthumus end his miferies, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt conftruction of thy name
Being Leonatus, doth import fo much:

The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
Which we call Mollis Aer, and Mollis Aer

We term it Mulier: which Mulier I divine

Is this most constant wife, who even now
Answering the letter of the oracle,

Unknown to you, unfought, were clipt about
With this most tender air.

Cym. This hath fome seeming.

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Perfonates thee; and thy lopt branches, point Thy two fons forth: who by Bellarius ftoll'n, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestick cedar join'd; whose issue Promifes Britain peace and plenty.

Cym. My peace we will begin: &c.

Sooth.

Soothsayer. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace: the vision

Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battel, at this instant
Is full accomplish'd. For the Roman eagle
From fouth to weft on wing foaring aloft
Leffen'd her felf, and in the beams o'th' fun
So vanish'd; which fore-fhew'd our princely eagle,
Th' imperial Cæfar, fhould again unite

His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

Cym. Laud we the gods:

And let the crooked fmoaks climb to their noftrils
From our bleft altars. Publish we this peace

To all our fubjects. Set we forward: let

A Roman and a British enfign wave

Friendly together; fo through Lud's town march.
And in the temple of great Jupiter

Our peace

we'll ratifie. Seal it with feafts.

Set on there: Never was a war did cease

Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with fuch a peace.

[Exeunt omnes.

ROMEO

PROLOGUE.

WO Houfholds, both alike in Dignity,

Two

In fair Verona, (where we lay our Scene) From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

A pair of far-crofs'd lovers take their life;
Whofe mif-adventur'd pitious overthrows,

Do, with their death, bury their parents ftrife.
The fearful paffage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents rage,
Which but their childrens end nought could remove,
Is now the two hours traffick of our stage.
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.