Hail, heaven!
Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon hill,
Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider,
When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place, which lessens, and sets off.
The king his father call'd Guiderius,-Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story say,-Thus mine enemy fell:
And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal
(Once Arviragus), in as like a figure,
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more
His own conceiving. Hark! the game is rous'd!-
And you may then revolve what tales I have told you, O Cymbeline! heaven, and my conscience, knows,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd: To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see:
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler, than attending for a check;
Richer, than doing nothing for a babe;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak: we, poor un-
fledg'd,
[not
Have never wing'd from view o'the nest; nor know
What air's from home. Haply, this life is best,
If quiet life be 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 abed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit.
Arv.
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 lies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison bird,
And sing our bondage freely.
Bel.
How you speak!
Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly the art o'the court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery, that
The fear's as bad as falling the toil of the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I'the name of fame, and honour; which dies i'the
And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, [search;
As record of fair act; nay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
Must court'sey at the censure:-0, boys, this story
The world may read in me: My body's mark'd,
With Roman swords and my report was once
First with the best of note: Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: Then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but, in one night,
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.
Gui.
Uncertain favour!
Bel. My fault being nothing (as I have told you oft),
But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline,
I was confederate with the Romans: so,
Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years,
This rock, and these demesnes, have been my world:
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid
More pious debts to heaven, than in all
The fore-end of my time. But, up to the mountains;
This is not hunter's language:-He, that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o'the feast;
To him the other two shall minister;
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys.
[Exeunt Guiderius and Arviragus.
How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature!
These boys know little, they are sons to the king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think, they are mine: and, though train'd up
I'the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In simple and low things, to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon,
At three, and two years old, I stole these babes;
Thinking to bar thee of succession, as
Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,
Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for their mo-
And every day do honour to her grave:
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
They take for natural father. The game is up. [Exit.
SCENE IV. Near Milford-Haven.
Enter Pisanio and Imogen.
Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse,
the place
Was near at hand :--Ne'er long'd my mother so
To see me first, as I have now:-Pisanio! Man!
Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind, sigh
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that
From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus,
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication: Put thyself
Into a 'haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
A look untender? If it be summer news,
Smile to't before if winterly, thon need'st
Bat keep that countenance still.-My husband's hand!
That drug-damn'd Italy bath out-craftied him,
And he's at some hard point.-Speak, man; thy tongue
May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.
Please you, read; And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing The most disdain'd of fortune.
Imo. [Reads] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises; but from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain as I expect my revenge. That part, thou, Pisanio, must act for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take away her life: I shall give thee opportunities at MilfordHaven she hath my letter for the purpose: Where, if thou fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art the pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal,
Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword? the
Hath cut her throat already.-No, 'tis slander;
Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperou slander enters.What cheer, madam?
Imo. False to his bed! What is it to be false?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge na-
To break it with a fearful dream of him, [ture,
And cry myself awake? That's false to his bed?
Is it?
Imo. I false? Thy conscience witness: -Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, methinks,
Thy favour's good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, bath betray'd him:
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion;
And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
I must be ripp'd :-to pieces with me!-0,
Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villany; not born, where't grows;
But worn, a bait for ladies.
Pis.
Good madam, hear me.
Imo. True honest men being heard, like false
Æneas,
Were, in his time, thought false and Sinon's weeping
Did scandal many a holy tear; took pity
From most true wretchedness: So, thou, Posthumus,
Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men!
Goodly, and gallant, shall be false, and perjur'd,
From thy great fail.- Come, fellow, be thou honest:
Do thou thy master's bidding: When thou seest him,
A little witness my obedience: Look!
I draw the sword myself: take it; and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart:
Fear not; 'tis empty of all things, but grief:
Thy master is not there; who was, indeed,
The riches of it: Do his bidding; strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause;
But now thou seem'st a coward.
Pis.
Hence, vile instrument!
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
Imo.
Why, I must die
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's: Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine,
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart:
Something's afore't:-Soft, soft; we'll no defence;
Obedient as the scabbard.-What is here?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turn'd to heresy! Away, away,
Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart! Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers: Though those that are betray'd
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.
And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father,
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself,
To think, when thou shalt be disedg'd by her
That now thou tir'st on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me.-Pr'ythee, despatch:
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where's thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too.
Since I receiv'd command to do this business,
I have not slept one wink.
Imo.
Do't, and to bed then.
Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
Imo.
Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd
So many miles, with a pretence? this place?
Mine action, and thine own? our horses' labour?
The time inviting thee? the perturb'd court,
For my being absent; whereunto I never
Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far,
To be unbent, when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
The elected deer before thee?
But to win time. To lose so bad employment: in the which I have consider'd of a course; Good lady, Hear me with patience.
Talk thy tongue weary; speak: I have heard, I am a strumpet; and mine ear," Therein false struck, can take no greater wound, Nor tent to bottom that. But speak. Pis.
I thought you would not back again.
Bringing me here to kill me.
Most like; Not so, neither: But if I were as wise as honest, then My purpose would prove well. It cannot be, But that my master is abus'd
Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursed injury.
Imo. Some Roman courezan.
Pis.
I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him.
Some bloody sign of it; for 'tis commanded
I should do so: You shall be miss'd at court,
And that will well confirm it.
Why, good fellow, What shall I do the while? Where bide? How live? Or in my life what comfort, when I am Dead to my husband?
Pis.
If you'll back to the court,-
Imo. No court, no father; nor no more ado
With that harsh, noble, simple, nothing:
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
As fearful as a siege.
Pis.
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
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.
I am most glad
You think of other place. The embassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow Now, if you would wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is; and but disguise
That, which, to appear itself, must not yet be,
But by self-danger; you should tread a course
Pretty, and full of view: yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus: so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.
O, for such means! Though peril to my modesty, not death on', I would adventure. Well then, here's the point: You must forget to be a woman; change Command into obedience; fear, and niceness, (The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, Woman its pretty self), to a waggish courage; Ready in gihes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrellous as the weasel: nay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart! Alack, no remedy !) to the greedy touch Of common-kissing Titan; and forget Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein You made great Juno angry.
Nay, be brief:
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.
Pis.
First, make yourself but like one.
Fore-thinking this, I have already fit
(Tis in my cloak-bag), doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them: Would you, in their serving,
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you are happy (which you'll make him know,
If that his head have ear in music), doubtless,
With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad
You have me, rich; and I will never fail
Beginning, nor supplyment.
Imo.
Thon art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away:
There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
Al! that good time will give us This attempt
I'm soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.
Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell; Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box; I had it from the queen;
What's in't is precious; if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper.-To some shade,
And it you to your manhood:-May the gods
Direct you to the best!
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.ag/books/content?id=W6RMx36jM6gC&hl=de&output=html_text&pg=PA527&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:ISBN1011513587&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1Fo94Dad0ui4_0CMXArdwRAJZLTQ&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=482,1101,373,412)
Queen. He goes hence frowning: but it honours us, That we have given him cause. Clo. "Tis all the better: Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor How it goes here. It fits us therefore, ripely, Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness: The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britain.
Queen. "Tis not sleepy business; But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly. Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus, Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen, Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd The duty of the day: She looks us like A thing more made of malice, than of duty: We have noted it.-Call her before us; for We have been too slight in sufferance. [Exit an Attendant. Queen. Royal sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd' Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord, "Tis time must do. 'Beseech your majesty, Ferbear sharp speeches her: she's a lady So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes, And strokes death to her.
Cym. Can her contempt be answer'd? Atten. Please you, sir, Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answer That will be given to the loud'st of noise we make. Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her, She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close; Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity, She should that duty leave unpaid to you, Which daily she was bound to proffer: this
She wish'd me to make known; but our great court Made me to blame in memory.
Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that, which I fear, Prove false? [Exit.
Queen. Son, I say, follow the king. Clo. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant, I have not seen these two days. Queen. Go, look after.[Exit Cloten. Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumous !— He hath a drug of mine: I pray, his absence Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes It is a thing most precious. But for her Where is she gone? Haply, despair bath seiz'd her; Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown To her desir'd Posthumes; Gone she is, To death, or to dishonour; and my end Can make good use of either: She being down, I have the placing of the British crown. Re-enter Cloten.
"Tis certain, she is fied: Go in, and cheer the king; he rages; none Dare come about him. Queen. All the better: May This night forestall him of the coming day! [Exit. Clo. I love, and hate her: for she's fair and royal; And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Than lady, ladies, woman; from every one The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, Outsells them all I love her therefore; But, Disdaining me, and throwing favours on The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgment, That what's else rare, is chok'd; and, in that point, I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed, To be reveng'd upon her. For, when fools
Shall-Who is here? What! are you packing, sirrah?
Come hither: Ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word; or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
Pis.
O, good, my lord!
Clo. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus ?
From whose so many weights of baserress cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.
She's far enough: and what he learns by this,
May prove his travel, not her danger.
Clo.
[Aside.
Humph!
Pis. I'll write to my lord, she's dead. O, Imogen,
Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again! [Aside.
Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true?
Pis.
Sir, as I think. Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't.-Sirrab, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service; undergo those employments, wherein I should have cause to use thee, with a serious industry,-that is, what villany soe'er I bid thee do, to perform it, directly and truly,-I would think thee an honest man: thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.
Pis. Well, my good lord."
Clo. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
Clo. Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession ! Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither: let it be thy first service; go. Pis. I shall, my lord.
Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Haven :-I forgot to ask him one thing; I'll remember't anon :-Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.-I would these garments were come. She said upon a time (the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart) that she held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural person, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that suit upon my back, will I ravish her: First kill him, and in her eyes; there shall she see my valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and when my last hath dined (which, as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that she so praised), to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.
Re-enter Pisanio, with the Clothes. Be those the garments?
Pis. Ay, my noble lord.
Clo. How long is't since she went to Milford
Pis. She can scarce be there yet.
Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I have commanded thee: the third is, that thou shalt be a voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall tender itself to thee.-My revenge is now at Milford; 'Would I had wings to follow it!-Come, and be [Exit.
Pis. Thou bidd'st me to my loss: for, true to thee,
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true.-To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursu'st. Flow, flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed
Be cross'd with slowness; labour be his meed!
[Exit.
SCENE VI. Before the Cave of Belarius.
Enter Imogen, in Boy's Clothes.
Imo. I see, a man's life is a tedious one :
I have tir'd myself; and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick, But that my resolution helps me.-Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken: O Jove! I think,
Foundations fly the wretched: such, I mean,
Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me,
I could not miss my way: 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.-My dear lord!
Thou art one o'the false ones: Now I think on thee,
My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food.-But what is this?
Here is a path to it: Tis some savage hold:
I were best not call: I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother.-Ho! who's here ?
If any thing that's civil, speak; if savage,
Take, or lend.-Ho!-No answer? then I'll enter.
Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
Such a foe, good heavens! [She goes into the Cave.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragas.
Bel. You, Polydore, have prov'd best woodman,
Are master of the feast: Cadwal, and I,
Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match:
The sweat of industry would dry, and die,
But for the end it works to. Come; our stomachs.
Will make what's homely, savoury: Weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. Now, peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'st thyself!
Gui. I am throughly weary. Aru. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. Gui. There is cold meat i'the cave; we'll browze Whilst what we have kill'd he cook'd. [on that, Stay; come not in; [Looking in. But that it eats our victuals, I should think Here were a fairy.
Bel. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not, An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy.
Arv. Or ; whate'er it be, What pain it cost, what danger! gods! Hark, boys. Whispering.
Imo. Great men, That had a court no bigger than this cave, That did attend themselves, and had the virtue Which their own conscience seal'd them (laying by That nothing gift of differing multitudes), Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, gods! I'd change my sex to be companion with them, Since Leonatus false. It shall be so:
Bel. Boys, we'll go dress our hunt.-Fair youth, come in: Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we have supp'd, We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story, So far as thou wilt speak it.
Pray, draw near. Arv. The night to the owl, and morn to the lark, Imo. Thanks, sir. [less welcome. Arv. I pray, draw near. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. Rome.
Enter two Senators and Tribunes.
1 Sen. This is the tenour of the emperor's writ
Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians;
That since the common men are now in action
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our wars against
The fallen-off Britons; that we do incite
The gentry to this business: He creates
Lucius pro-consul: and to you the tribunes,
For this immediate levy, he commands
His absolute commission. Long live Cæsar!
Tri. Is Lucius general of the forces?
2 Sen.
Ay.
With those legions
Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
Must be supplyant: The words of your commission
Will tie you to the numbers, and the time
Of their despatch.
Tri. Remaining now in Gallia ? 1 Sen.
We will discharge our duty. [Exeunt.
SCENE I. The Forest near the Cave.
Clo. I am near to the place where they should meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the rather (saving reverence of the word) for 'tis said, a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself (for it is not vain-glory, for a man and his glass to confer; in his own chamber, I mean), the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions: yet this imperseverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before thy face: and al! this done, spurn her home to her father: who may, haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage: but my mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up safe: Out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand! This is the very description of their meetingplace; and the fellow dares not deceive me. [ Exit. SCENE II. Before the Cave. Enter, from the Cave, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen. Bel. You are not well: [To Imogen] remain here. We'll come to you after hunting. [in the cave; Brother, stay here: [To Imogen. Are we not brothers? Imo. So man and man should be; But clay and clay differs in dignity, Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick. Gui. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him. Imo. So sick I am not-yet I am not well: But not so citizen a wanton, as
To seem to die, ere sick: So please you, leave me ;
Stick to your journal course: the breach of custom
Is breach of all. I am ill; but your being by me
Cannot amend me: Society is no comfort
To one not sociable: I'm not very sick,
Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here:
I'll rob none but myself; and let me die,
Stealing so poorly.
Gui.
I love thee; I have spoke it :
How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.
What? how? how?
Arv. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault: I know not why
I love this youth; and I have heard you say,
Love's reason's without reason; the bier at door,
And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say,
My father, not this youth.
Bel.
O noble strain? [Aside.
O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness !
Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base:
Nature hath meal, and bran; contempt, and grace.
I am not their father; yet who this should be,
Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.-
"Tis the ninth hour o'the morn.
Arv.
Arv. You health. So please you, sir.
Imo. [Aside] These are kind creatures. Gods,
what lies I have heard!
Our courtiers say, all's savage, but at court:
Experience, 0, thon disprov'st report!
The imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers, as sweet fish.
I am sick still; heart-sick:Pisanio,
I'll now taste of thy drug.
1 could not stir him:
He said, he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.
Arv. Thus did he answer me: yet said, hereafter
I might know more.
Bel.
To the field, to the field :-
We'll leave you for this time; go in, and rest.
Aru. We'll not be long away.
For you must be our housewife.
Imo.
I am bound to you.
Bel.
Well, or ill,
And so shalt be ever.
[Exit Imogen. This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears, he hath had Good ancestors.
Gui. Those that I reverence, those I fear; the wise: At fools I laugh, not fear them.
Die the death:
When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
I'll follow those that even now fled hence,
And on the gates of Lud's town set your heads:
Yield, rustic mountaineer. [Exeunt, fighting.
Enter Belarius and Arviragus.
Bel. No company's abroad.
Arv. None in the world: You did mistake him,sure.
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour
Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him,
Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice,
And barst of speaking, were as his: I am absolute,
'Twas very Cloten.
In this place we left them:
I wish my brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell.
Bel.
Being scarce made up,
I mean, to man, he had not apprehension
Of roaring terrors: for the effect of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear: But see, thy brother.
Re-enter Guiderius, with Cloten's Head.
Gui. This Cloten was a fool; an empty purse,
Gui. But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in There was no money in't: Not Hercules
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.ag/books/content?id=W6RMx36jM6gC&hl=de&output=html_text&pg=PA530&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:ISBN1011513587&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0NE4_-s-ZtSELrH9BdPCUQPuqNYg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=128,969,387,277)
Clo. I cannot find those runagates; that villain
Hath mock'd me :-I am faint.
Bel.
Those runagates!
Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis
Cloten, the son o'the queen. I fear some ambush.
I saw him not these many years, and yet
I know 'tis he: We are held as outlaws:-Hence.
Gui. He is but one: You and my brother search
What companies are near: pray you, away;
Let me alone with him. [Exeunt Bel, and Arv.
Clo.
Soft! What are you
That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers?
I have heard of such.-What slave art thon?
Gui.
More slavish did I ne'er, than answering
A slave, without a knock.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.ag/books/content?id=W6RMx36jM6gC&hl=de&output=html_text&pg=PA530&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:ISBN1011513587&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0NE4_-s-ZtSELrH9BdPCUQPuqNYg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=141,1430,387,101)
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.ag/books/content?id=W6RMx36jM6gC&hl=de&output=html_text&pg=PA530&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:ISBN1011513587&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0NE4_-s-ZtSELrH9BdPCUQPuqNYg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=488,948,415,168)
Bel.
We are all undone.
Gui. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose,
But, that he swore to take, our lives? The law
Protects not us: Then why should we be tender,
To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us;
Play judge, and executioner, all himself;
For we do fear the law? What company
Discover you abroad?
Bel.
No single soul
Can we set eye on, but, in all safe reason,
He must have some attendants. Though his humour
Was nothing but mutation; ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse; not frenzy, not
Absolute madness could so far have rav'd,
To bring him here alone: Although, perhaps,
It may be heard at court, that such as we
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
May make some stronger head: the which he hearing
(As it is like him), might break out, and swear
He'd fetch us in; yet is't not probable
To come alone, either he so undertaking,
Or they so suffering: then on good ground we fear,
If we do fear this body hath a fail
More perilous than the head.
|