Guiderius.  Out of your proof you speak:  we poor unfledg’d
     Have never wing’d from view o’ th’ nest; nor know not
     What air’s from home.  Haply this life is best,
     If quiet life is best; sweeter to you
     That have a sharper known; well corresponding
     With your stiff age:  but unto us it is
     A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed,
     A prison for a debtor, that not dares
     To stride a limit.

   Arviragus.  What should we speak of
     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 chase what flies; our cage
     We make a quire, as doth the prison’d bird,
     And sing our bondage freely.

The answer of Bellarius to this expostulation is hardly satisfactory; for nothing can be an answer to hope, or the passion of the mind for unknown good, but experience.—­The forest of Arden in As You Like It can alone compare with the mountain scenes in Cymbeline:  yet how different the contemplative quiet of the one from the enterprising boldness and precarious mode of subsistence in the other!  Shakespeare not only lets us into the minds of his characters, but gives a tone and colour to the scenes he describes from the feelings of their imaginary inhabitants.  He at the same time preserves the utmost propriety of action and passion, and gives all their local accompaniments.  If he was equal to the greatest things, he was not above an attention to the smallest.  Thus the gallant sportsmen in Cymbeline have to encounter the abrupt declivities of hill and valley:  Touchstone and Audrey jog along a level path.  The deer in Cymbeline are only regarded as objects of prey, ‘The game’s a-foot’, &c.—­with Jaques they are fine subjects to moralize upon at leisure, ‘under the shade of melancholy boughs’.

We cannot take leave of this play, which is a favourite with us, without noticing some occasional touches of natural piety and morality.  We may allude here to the opening of the scene in which Bellarius instructs the young princes to pay their orisons to heaven: 

                  —­See, Boys! this gate
   Instructs you how t’ adore the Heav’ns; and bows you
   To morning’s holy office.

Guiderius.  Hail, Heav’n!

Arviragus.  Hail, Heav’n!

Bellarius.  Now for our mountain-sport, up to yon hill.

What a grace and unaffected spirit of piety breathes in this passage!  In like manner, one of the brothers says to the other, when about to perform the funeral rites to Fidele: 

   Nay, Cadwall, we must lay his head to the east;
     My Father hath a reason for’t.

Shakespeare’s morality is introduced in the same simple, unobtrusive manner.  Imogen will not let her companions stay away from the chase to attend her when sick, and gives her reason for it: