Soothsayer reads.

When 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 stately cedar fhall be lopt branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then fball 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 Leo-natus, 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,

[To Cymbeline,

Is this most constant wife; [To Poft.] who, even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,

Unknown to you, unfought, were clip'd about
With this most tender air.

Cym. This hath fome feeming.

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Perfonates thee: and thy lopt branches point Thy two fons forth: who, by Belarius stolen, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestick cedar join'd; whofe iffue Promises Britain peace and plenty.

Cym. Well,

By 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;

By peace we will begin :]-To fulfil the prophecy.-My peace.

On whom heaven's juftice, (both on her, and hers)
Hath lay'd most heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the ftroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this inftant
Is full accomplish'd: For the Roman eagle,
From fouth to weft on wing foaring aloft,
Leffen'd herself, and in the beams o' the fun
So vanish'd which fore-fhew'd, our princely eagle,
The imperial Cæfar, fhould again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which fhines here in the west.

Cym. Laud we the gods;

And let our crooked fmokes climb to their noftrils
From our bleft altars! Publifh 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 ratify; feal it with feafts.-
Set on there :-Never was a war did cease,

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

[Exeunt omnes.

A SONG,

Sung by Guiderius and Arviragus over Fidele, fuppofed to be dead.

By Mr. WILLIAM COLLINS.

I.

To fair Fidele's graffy tomb,

Soft maids, and village binds shall bring
Each op'ning fweet of earliest bloom,
And rifle all the breathing fpring.

II.

No wailing ghoft shall dare appear
To vex with fhrieks this quiet grove :
But fhepherd lads affemble here,
And melting virgins own their love.

III.

No wither'd witch fhall here be feen,
No goblins lead their nightly crew:
The female fays fhall haunt the green,
And drefs thy grave with pearly dew,

IV.

The red-breast oft at ev'ning hours
Shall kindly lend bis little aid,
With boary mofs, and gather'd flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art laid.

V.

When bowling winds, and beating rain,
In tempeft's bake the fylvan cell;
Or 'midst the chace on ev'ry plain,
The tender thought on thee fhall dwell,

VI.

Each lonely Scene fhall thee reftore;
For thee the tear be duly fhed:
Belov'd, 'till life could charm no more;
And mourn'd, 'till pity's felf be dead.