This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears he hath had Good ancestors.

Arv.

How angel-like he sings.

Gui. But his neat cookery: he cut our roots in

characters;

And sauc'd our broths, as Juno had been sick,
And he her dieter.

A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh

Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix

With winds that sailors rail at.

Gui.

I do note,

That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.

Arv.

Grow, patience!

And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine

His perishing root with the increasing vine!

Bel. It is great morning. Come; away!-Who's there?

Enter CLOTEN.

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' th' 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.

Clo.

[Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Soft! What are you

That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers?
I have heard of such. What slave art thou?
Gui.

More slavish did I ne'er, than answering

A slave without a knock.

Clo.

A law-breaker, a villain.

A thing

Thou art a robber,

Yield thee, thief.

What art thou? Have

Gui. To whom? to thee?

not I

An arm as big as thine? a heart as big?

Thy words, I grant, are bigger; for I wear not
My dagger in my mouth. Say, what thou art,
Why I should yield to thee?

Clo.

Know'st me not by my clothes?

Gui.

Who is thy grandfather: he made those clothes,

Thou villain base,

No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool:

Clo. Cloten, thou villain.

Gui. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,

I cannot tremble at it: were it toad, or adder, spider, "Twould move me sooner.

Clo.

To thy farther fear,

Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know

Die the death.

- the

Clo. 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.

Bel. I cannot tell: long is it since I saw him, But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour Which then he wore the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking, were as his. I am absolute 'Twas very Cloten.

Arv.

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 th' effect of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear. But see, thy brother.

Enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN's head.

Gui. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse, There was no money in 't. Not Hercules

Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none; Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne

My head, as I do his.

Bel.

What hast thou done?

Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's

head,

Son to the Queen, after his own report;

Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer; and swore,

With his own single hand he'd take us in,

Displace our heads, where (thank the gods!) they

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 hu

mour

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 tail

More perilous than the head.

Arv.

Let ord❜nance

Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er,

My brother hath done well.

Bel.

I had no mind

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

With his own sword,

Gui.
Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en
His head from him: I'll throw 't into the creek
Behind our rock; and let it to the sea,

And tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten:
That's all I reck.

Bel.

I fear, 'twill be reveng'd.

[Exit.

Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done 't! though

valour

Becomes thee well enough.

Arv.

'Would I had done 't,

So the revenge alone pursu'd me! — Polydore,

I love thee brotherly, but envy much,

Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would revenges, That possible strength might meet, would seek us

through,

And put us to our answer.

Bel.

Well, 'tis done.

We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger

Where there's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock:

You and Fidele play the cooks; I'll stay

Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him

To dinner presently.

Arv.

Poor sick Fidele !

I'll willingly to him: to gain his colour,