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I mean, to man, he had not apprehenfion
Of roaring terrors; for th' effect of judgment
Is oft the caufe of fear. But fee, thy brother..

Enter GUIDERIUS, with Cloten's Head..

Guid. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse, There was no money in't; not Hercules.

Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none :
Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
My head, as I do his.

Bel. What haft thou done?

Guid. I'm perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head, Son to the Queen, after his own report;

Who called me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
With his own fingle hand he'd take us in;

Difplace our heads, where, thanks to th' Gods, they
And fet them on Lud's town.

Bel. We're all undone !

[grow,.

Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lofe, But what he swore to take, our lives? the law Protects not us; then why fhould 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?

being scarce then at man's eftate, he had no apprehenfion of roaring terrors, i. e of any thing that could check him. with fears. But then how does the inference come in, built upon this? for defe of judgment is oft the cause of fear. I think the Poet meant to have faid the mere contrary. Cloten was defective in judgment, and therefore did aot fear. Apprehenfions of fear grow from a judgment in weighing dangers. And a very eafy change, from the traces of the letters, gives us this fenfe, and reconciles the reafoning of the whole paffage;

For th effect of judgment.

Is oft the caufe of fear..

Bel. No fingle foul

Can we fet eye on; but, in all safe reason,

He must have fome attendants. (43) Though his
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that [humour
From one bad thing to worfe; yet not his frenzy,
Not abfolute madness, could fo far have raved,
To bring him here alone; although, perhaps,
It may be heard at court, that fuch as we
Cave here, haunt here, are out-laws, and in time
May make fome 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, nor he fo undertaking,

Nor they fo fuffering; then on good ground we fear;
If I do fear, this body hath a tail

More perilous than the head.

Arv. Let ordinance

Come, as the gods forefay it: howfoever,
My brother hath done well.

Bel. I had no mind

To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's fickness
Did make my way long forth.

Guid. With his own fword,.

Which he did wave against my throat, I've ta'ex His head from him: I'll throw't into the creek

(43) Though his honour

Was nothing but mutation, &c.] What has his honour to do here in his being changeable in this fort in his acting as a madman, or not? I have ventured to fubstitute humour, against the authority of the printed copies; and the meaning feems plainly this: Though he was always fickle to the laft degree, and governed by humour, not found fenfe; yet not madness itfelt could make him fo hardy to attempt an enterprise of this nature alone and unfeconded. The like mistake of honour for humour had taken place in a paffage of the Merry Wives of Windfor, which I corrected from the fanc tion of the old Quarto impreffions.

Behind our rock; and let it to the fea,

And tell the fithes, he's the Queen's fon, Cloten..

That's all I reck.

Bel. I fear 'twill be revenged:

[Exit.

'Would, Paladour, thou hadit not done't! though Becomes thee well enough.

Arg. 'Would I had done't,

[valour

So the revenge alone purfued me! Paladour,

I love thee brotherly, but envy much

Thou' robbed me of this deed; I would revenges,.. That poffible ftrength might meet, would feek us thro', And put us to our anfwer.

Bel. Well, 'tis done:

We'll hunt no more to-day, nor feek for danger
Where there's no profit. Pr'ythee, to our rock,
You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll ftay,
'Till hafty Paladour return, and bring him
To dinner prefently.

Arv. Poor fick Fidele!

I'll willingly to him: to gain his colour,
I'd let a parish of fuch Clotens blood,
And praife myself for charity.

Bel. O thou goddess,

[Exit.

Thou divine Nature! how thyself thou blazonest/
In thefe two princely boys! they are as gentle.
As Zephyrs blowing below the violet,

Not wagging his fweet head; and yet as rough;
(Their reyal blood enchafed,) as the rudeft wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him toop to th' vale.-'Tis wonderful,
That an invifible inftinct fhould frame them
To royalty unlearned, honour untaught,.
Civility not feen from other: valour,.

That wildly grows in them; but yields a crop
As if it had been fowed. Yet ftill it's ftrange.
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us..

Re-enter GUIDERIUS.

Guid. Where's my brother?

I have fent Cloten's clot-pole down the stream,
In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage
For his return.

Bel. My ingenious inftrument!

[Solemn mufic..

Hark, Paladour! it founds: but what occafion
Hath Cadwall now to give it motion? hark!
: Guid. Is he at home!

Bel. He went hence even now.

Guid. What does he mean? Since death of my dearest mother,

It did not fpeak before. All folemn things
Should answer folemn accidents. The matter?--
Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys,
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys.

Is Cadwall mad?

Enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN dead, bearing her in his arms.

Bel. Look, here he comes!

And brings the dire occafion, in his arms,
Of what we blame him for.

Arus The bird is dead

That we have made fo much on! I had rather
Have fkipt from fixteen years of age to fixty;
And turned my leaping time into a crutch,
Than have feen this.

Guid. Oh fweetest, fairest lily!

My brother wears thee not one half fo well,
As when thou grewelt thyfelf

Bel. (44) Oh melancholy!

(44) Oh melancholy!

Who ever get could found thy bottom? find
The ooze, to fhew what coaft thy fluggish care

Who ever yet could found thy bottom? find
The ooze, to fhew what coaft thy fluggish carrack.
Might eafelieft harbour in ?-thou bleed thing!
Jove knows what man thou mightest have made,
but ah!

Thou diedit, a moft rare boy, of melancholy!
How found you ́him?

Arv. Stark, as you fee:

Thus fmiling, as fome fly had tickled flumber;
Not as death's dart, being laughed at: his right cheek
Repofing on a cushion.

Guid. Where?

Arv. O' th' floor:

His arms thus leagued; I thought he flept; and put My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness Answered my fteps too loud.

Guid. Why, he but fleeps;

If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
With female Fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come near thee.

Might cafelieft harbour in?] But as plaufible as this at first fight may feem, all thofe who know any thing of good writ ing, will agree that our Author must have wrote;

to fhew what coaft thy fluggish carrack Might eafelieft harbour in ?

Carrack is a flow, heavy-built veffel of burden. This re-
ftores the uniformity of the metaphor, compleats the fenfe,
and is a word of great propriety and beauty to defigu a me
lancholic perføn.
Mr. Warburton.

The word is uted again by our Author, in his Othello;
Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carrack ;

If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.

And we meet with it likewife in Beaumont and Fletcher;
But there's the wonder, though their weight would fink
A Spanish carrack, without other ballaft, &c.

Carraca, navis oneraria ingens.
Carraque, navis ampliffima.

Elder Brother.

Skinner.

Richelet..

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