slain Cloten, the queen's son. The old man vainly strives to persuade them to fly to deeper recesses of their mountains:—

BELARIUs, GUIDERIUs, and ARVIRAGUs.

Gui. The noise is round about us.

Bel. Let us from it.

Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life to lock it
From action and adventure ?

Gui. Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? this way, the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us; or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.

Bel. Sons,
We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
To the king's party there's no going : newness
Of Cloten's death (we being not known, not muster'd
Among the bands) may drive us to a render
Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us that
Which we have done, whose answer would be death
Drawn on with torture.

Gui This is, sir, a doubt
In such a time nothing becoming you,
Nor satisfying us.

Arv. It is not likely
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,
To know from whence we are.

Bel. O, I am known
Of many in the army: many years,
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him
From my remembrance. And, besides, the king
Hath not deserv'd my service, nor your loves;
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promis'd,
But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and
The shrinking slaves of winter.

Gui. Than be so,
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army:
I and my brother are not known: yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this sun that shines,
I'll thither: What thing is it, that I never
Did see man die scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison 7
Never bestrid a horse, save one, that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel ? I am asham'd

To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his bless'd beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Gui. By heavens, I'll go:
If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me, by
The hands of Romans !

Arv. So say I; Amen.

Bel. No reason I, since of your lives you set
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys:
If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie:
Lead, lead—The time seems long : their blood thinks scorn, 14side.
Till it fly out and show them princes born.

The Briton, Posthumus, who has landed with the Roman army, and believes that his lady, Imogen, has been put to death by his own rash commands, through tie falsehood of Iachimo, determines to take part with his countrymen:—

I am brought hither
Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom: 'Tis enough
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress. Peace :
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens,
Hear patiently my purpose ; I’ll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant; so I'll fight
Against the part I come with; so I'll die
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is, every breath, a death: and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me, than my habits show.
Gods, put the strength o' the Leonati in me !
To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
The fashion less without, and more within.

The contest between the Roman and British armies is, in this play, exhibited in dumb-show. The drama preceding Shakspere was full of such examples. But Shakspere uniformly rejected the practice, except in this instance. The stage directions of the original copy are very curious; and we therefore carry on the narrative by the aid of these stage directions:—

Enter at one door LUCIUs, IACHIMo, and the Roman army, and the British army at another. LEONATUs Posthumus following, like a poor soldier. They march oper and go out. Then enter again, in skirmish, IACHIMo and Posthumous: he rail. quisheth and disarmeth IACHIMo, and then leaves him.

Jach. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
Takes off my manhood: I have belied a lady,
The princess of this country, and the air on't
Revengingly enfeebles me. Or, could this carl,

A very drudge of nature's, have subdued me
In my profession ? Knighthoods and honours, borne
As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout, as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is, that we scarce are men, and you are gods. [Erit.

The battle continues; the Britons fly: CYMBELINE is taken; then enter, to his rescue BELARIUs, GUIDERIUs, and ARVIRAGUs.

Bel. Stand, stand . We have the advantage of the ground ;
The lane is guarded; nothing routs us but
The villainy of our fears.

Gui, Arv. Stand, stand, and fight ! Enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britons: They rescue CYMBELINE, and ereunt. Then, enter, LUCIUs, IACHIMo, and IMogEN.

Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself:
For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such
As war were hood-wink'd.

Iach. 'Tis their fresh supplies.
Luc. It is a day turn'd strapgely : Or betimes
Let's re-inforce, or fly. [Exetint.

Enter Posthumus and a British Lord.

Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made the stand?

Post. I did ;
Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.

Lord. I did.

Post. No blame be to you, sir: for all was lost,
But that the heavens fought: The king himself,

- Of his wings destitute, the army broken,

And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Through a strait lane; the enemy, full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work
More plentiful than tools to do’t, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling
Merely through fear; that the straight pass was damm'd
With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living
To die with lengthen’d shame.

Lord. Where was this lane!

Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with turf;
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier-
An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd
So long a breeding as his white beard came to.
In doing this for his country, athwart the lane,
He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run
The country base, than to commit such slaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cas'd or shame)
Made good the passage: cried to those that fled,
“Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men:

To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards ! Stand;
Or we are Romans, and will give you that
Like beasts, which you shun beastly ; and may save,
But to look back in frown: stand, stand.”—These three,
Three thousand confident, in act as many,
(For three performers are the file when all
The rest do nothing) with this word, “stand, stand,”
Accommodated by the place, more charming
With their own nobleness, (which could have turn'd
A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks,
Part shame, part spirit renew'd; that some, turn'd coward
But by example, (O, a sin in war,
Damn’d in the first beginners!) 'gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o' the hunters. Then began
A stop i' the chaser, a retire; anon,
A rout, confusion thick; Forthwith, they fly
Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; slaves,
The strides they victors made: And now our cowards
(Like fragments in hard voyages) became
The life o' the need, having found the back-door open
Of the unguarded hearts: Heavens, how they wound !
Some slain before ; some dying ; some their friends
O'erborne i' the former wave; ten, chas'd by one,
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty:
Those that would die or ere resist are grown
The mortal bugs o' the field.

Lord. This was strange chance:
A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys'

Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are made
Rather to wonder at the things you hear,
Than to work any.

The catastrophe of “Cymbeline” has necessarily more immediate reference to the romantic part of the drama than to the historical. Here, it is sufficient to say that the king recovers his sons, and Posthumus his much injured lady. The first movement of the British king, in the spirit of barbarous warfare, is to doom the Roman prisoners to death :—

Cym. Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one ; whose kinsmen have made suit
That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter
Of you their captives, which ourself have granted:
So, think of your estate.

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have threaten’d
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be call'd ransom, let it come : sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:

Augustus lives to think on 't : and so much

For my peculiar care.
But Cymbeline's hard purpose is changed. Posthumus forgives the arch-traitor

Iachimo :—
“The power that I have on you is to spare you.”
And then the king exclaims,
“Pardon's the word for all.”

The drama concludes with peace between Britain and Rome.

3.—THE INVASION OF CLAUDIUS. MILtoN. Milton has described the second Roman invasion, in all the pomp of his Latinized English.

Through civil discord, Bericus, (what he was further, is not known) with others of his party flying to Rome, persuaded Claudius, the emperor, to an invasion. Claudius, now consul the third time, and desirous to do something, whence he might gain the honour of a triumph, at the persuasion of these fugitives, whom the Britians demanding, he had denied to render, and they for that cause had denied further amity with Rome, makes choice of this island for his province: and sends before him Aulus Plautius the praetor, with this command, if the business grew difficult, to give him notice. Plautius with much ado, persuaded the legions to move out of Gallia, murmuring that now they must be put to make war beyond the world's end, for so they counted Britian ; and what welcome Julius the dictator found there, doubtless they had heard. At last prevailed with, and hoisting sail from three several ports, lest their landing should in any one place be resisted, meeting cross winds, they were cast back and disheartened: till in the night a meteor shooting flames from the east, and, as they fancied, directing their course, they took heart again to try the sea, and without opposition landed. For the Britians having heard of their unwillingness to come, had been negligent to provide against them; and retiring to the woods and moors, intended to frustrate and wear them out with delays, as they had served Caesar before. Plautius after much trouble to find them out, encountering first with Caractacus, then with Togodumnus, overthrew them ; and receiving into conditions part of the Boduni, who then were subject to the Catuellani, and leaving there a garrison, went on toward a river; where the Britians not imagining that Plautius without a bridge could pass, lay on the farther side careless and secure. But he sending first the Germans, whose custom was, armed as they were, to swim with ease the strongest current, commands them to strike especially at the horses, whereby the chariots, wherein consisted their chief art of fight, became unserviceable. To second them he sent Vespasian, who in his latter days obtained the empire, and Sabinus his brother; who unexpectedly assailing those who were least aware, did much execution. Yet not for this were the Britians dismayed; but re-uniting the next day, fought with such a courage, as made it hard to decide which way hung the victory; till Caius Sidius Geta, at point to have been taken, recovered himself so valiantly, as brought the day on his side; for which at Rome he received high honours. After this the Britians drew back toward the mouth of the Thames, and acquainted with those places, crossed over; where the Romans following them through bogs and dangerous flats, hazarded the loss of all. Yet the Germans getting over, and others by a bridge at some place above, fell on them again with sundry alarms and great slaughter; but in the heat of pursuit running themselves again into bogs and mires, lost as many of their own. Upon which ill success, and seeing the Britians