Imagens das páginas

Bel. Pray, be not sick,

For you must be our housewife.

Into. Well or ill,

I am bound to you,

Bel. And shall be ever.

[Exit Imogen. 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.

Arv. Nobly he yokes

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.

[Exeunt Belahius and Ahyibagus.

Clo. Soft! What are you

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

Gui. A thing

More slavish did I ne'er, than answering
A slave without a knock.

Clo. Thou art a robber,

A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief.

Gui. To whom? to thee? What art thou? Have 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. Thou villain base,

Know'st me not by my clothes?

Gui. No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

Who is thy grandfather: he made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.

Clo. Thou precious varlet,

My tailor made them not.

Gui. Hence then, and thank

The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool: I am loath to beat thee.

Clo. Thou injurious thief,

Hear but my name, and tremble.

Gui. What's thy name?

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
I'm son to th' Queen.

Gui. I am sorry for 't, not seeming

So worthy as thy birth.

Clo. Art not afeard?

Gui. Those that I reverence, those I fear, — the wise: At fools I laugh, not fear them.

Clo. 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 Belauius and Aeviragus.

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 Guideeitjs, 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

grow, And set them on Lud's town.

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 hu-
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.

Gui. With his own sword,

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. [Exit.

Bel. I fear, 'twill be reveng'd.

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

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,

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