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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 baseness cannot
A drachm of worth be drawn.

Pis. Alas, my lord!

How can she be with him? "When was she miss'd? He is in Rome.

Clo. Where is she, sir? Come nearer;

No farther halting: satisfy me home
What is become of her?

Pis. 0, my all-worthy lord!

Clo. All-worthy villain!

Discover where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word, — No more of worthy lord, -—
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.

Pis. Then, sir,

This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter.

Clo. Let 's see 't. — I will pursue hei

Even to Augustus' throne.

Pis. [Aside.] Or this, or perish.

She's far enough; and what he learns by this,
May prove his travel, not her danger.

Clo. Humph!

Pis. [Aside.'] I'll write to my lord she's dead. 0 Imogen, Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again!

Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pis. Sir, as I think.

Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know 't. -— Sirrah, if thou would'st 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 villainy so'er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly. I would think thee an honest man: thou should'st 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?

Pis. Sir, I will.

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. [Exit.

Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Haven. —-1 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 lust hath din'd, (which, as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that she so prais'd,) to the Court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath, despis'd me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

Enter Pisanio with the clothes.

Be those the garments?

Pis. Ay, my noble lord.

Clo. How long is 9t since she went to MilfordHaven?

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 wilt 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 true. \_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 pursuest. Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed Be cross'd with slowness: labour be his meed! \_ExiL

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 shew'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 'rt one o' th' 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 enters the cave.

Enter Belatmtjs, Gtjidehitts, and Abviragus. Bel. You, Polydore, have prov'd best woodman, and 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 resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard. —- Now peace be here, Poor house, that keep'st thyself!

Gui. I am thoroughly weary. Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

Gui. There is cold meat i' th' cave: we'll browze on that, Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.

Bel. Stay: come not in.

[Looking in. But that it eats our victuals, I should think Here were a fairy.

Gui. What's the matter, sir?

Bel. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not, An earthly paragon ! — Behold divineness No elder than a boy!

Enter Imogen.

lmo. Good masters, harm me not: Before I enter'd here, I call'd; and thought To have begg'd or bought what I have took. Good

troth, I have stolen naught; nor would not, though I had

found Gold strew'd i' th' floor. Here's money for my meat: I would have left it on the board, so soon As I had made my meal, and parted With pray'rs for the provider.

Gui. Money, youth?

Arv. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt!
As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.

Imo. I see you're angry.

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have died had I not made it.

Bel. Whither bound?

Into. To Milford-Haven.

Bel. What's your name?

Imo. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman, who


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