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, A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh Was that it was, for not being such a smile; With winds that sailors rail at. Gui. I do note, That grief and patience, rooted in him both, 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; Clo. [Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS. That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers? 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 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 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 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 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 With his own sword, Gui. And tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten: 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, |