Thus may poor fools Believe false teachers; though those that are betray'd Do feel the reason sharply, yet the traitor Stands in worse case of woe, Are we not brothers? So man and man should be; But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike. Will poor folks lie That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment or trial? Yes: no wonder, When rich ones scarce tell true: to lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars. The sentence which follows, and which I believe has become proverbial, has much of the manner of Portia, both in the thought and the expression:-- Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night, Are they not but in Britain? I' the world's volume Our Britain seems as of it, but not in it; In a great pool, a swan's nest; pr'ythee, think There's livers out of Britain. * * * * * The catastrophe of this play has been much admired for the peculiar skill with which all the various threads of interest are gathered together at last, and entwined with the destiny of Imogen. It may be added, that one of its chief beauties is the manner in which the character of Imogen is not only preserved, but rises upon us to the conclusion with added grace: her instantaneous forgiveness of her husband before he even asks it, when she flings herself at once into his arms-- Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? and her magnanimous reply to her father, when he tells her, that by the discovery of her two brothers she has lost a kingdom-- No--I have gain'd two worlds by it-- clothing a noble sentiment in a noble image, give the finishing touches of excellence to this most enchanting portrait. On the whole, Imogen is a lovely compound of goodness, truth, and affection, with just so much of passion and intellect and poetry, as serve to lend to the picture that power and glowing richness of effect which it would otherwise have wanted; and of her it might be said, if we could condescend to quote from any other poet with Shakespeare open before us, that "her person was a paradise, and her soul the cherub to guard it."[63] CORDELIA.