ACT IV.

SCENE I. The forest, near the cave.

Enter Cloten.

Clo. I am near to the place where they should meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the rather (saving reverence of the word) for* 'tiş said, a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself (for it is not vain-glory, for a man and his glass to confer; in his own chamber, I mean), the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions : yet this imperseverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before thy face: and all this done, spurn her home to her father: who may, haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage: but my mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up safe: Out, sword, and toa sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand! This is the very de. scription of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me.

i. e. Because. + In single combat.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Before the cave.

Enter, from the cave, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen.

Bel. You are not well: [To Imogen.] remain here

But clay and clay differs in dignity,

Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.

Gui. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him. Imo. So sick I am not ;-yet am I not well : But not so citizen a wanton, as

To seem to die, ere sick: So please you leave me; Stick to your journal course: the breach of custom Is breach of all. I am ill; but your being by me Cannot amend me: Society is no comfort

To one not sociable: I'm not very sick,
Since I can reason of it.
I'll rob none but myself;
Stealing so poorly.

Pray you, trust me here:
and let me die,

Gui.
I love thee; I have spoke it:
How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.

."Bel.

What? how? how?

Aro. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault: I know not why
I love this youth; and I have heard you say,
Love's reason's without reason; the bier at door,

Keep your daily course.

And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say,
My father, not this youth.

Bel.

O noble strain! [Aside. O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness! Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base: Nature hath meal, and bran; contempt, and grace. I am not their father; yet who this should be, Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.

'Tis the ninth hour o'the morn.

Aro.

Imo. I wish ye sport.

Arv.

Brother, farewell.

You health. So please you, sir.

Imo. [Aside.] These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have heard!

Our courtiers say, all's savage, but at court:
Experience, O, thou disprov'st report!

The imperious* seas breed monsters; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.

I am sick still; heart-sick :-Pisanio,
I'll now taste of thy drug.

Gui.

I could not stir him:

He said, he was gentlet, but unfortunate;

Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.

Aro. Thus did he answer me: yet said, hereafter

I might know more.

Bel.

To the field, to the field:

We'll leave you for this time; go in, and rest.

Aro. We'll not be long away.

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

Good ancestors.

Arv.

How angel-like he sings!

* Imperial.

↑ Well-born.

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.

Aro.

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.

Aro.

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'the 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.

Spurs are the roots of trees.

A thing

Clo.

Thou art a robber,

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

Gui. To who? 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.

Know'st me not by my clothes?

Gui.

Thou villain base,

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

Clo.

My tailor made them not.

Gui.

No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

Thou precious varlet,

Hence then, and thank

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

I am loath to beat thee.

Clo.

Thou injurious thief,

What's thy name?

Hear but my name, and tremble.

Gui.

Clo. Cloten, thou villain.

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

I cannot tremble at it; were't toad, or adder, spider, 'Twould move me sooner.

Clo.

Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know

I'm son to the queen.

Gui.

So worthy as thy birth.

Clo.

To thy further fear,

I'm sorry for't; not seeming

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, rustick mountaineer. [Exeunt, fighting.