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Say, where shall's lay bim? Gui. By good Euriphile, our mother. Art.
We'll speak it then. Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less: for
Cloten Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys : And, though he came our enemy, remember, He was paid* for that: Though mean and mighty,
rotting Together, have one dust; yet reverence (That angel of the world) doth make distinction Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely ; And though you took his life, as being our foe, Yet bury him as a prince. Gui.
Pray you, fetch him bither. Thersites' body is as good as Ajax, When neither are alive. Aru.
If you'll go fetch him, We'll say our song the whilst.-Brother, begin,
[Erit Belarius. Gui. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the
east; My father hath a reason for't. Aro.
'Tis true. Gui. Come on then, and remove him. Aro.
Gui. Fear no more the heat o'the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages :
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ;
To thee the reed is as the oak:'
Consignt to thee, and come to dust.
And renowned be thy gravet!
Re-enter Belarius, with the body of Cloten. Gui. We have done our obsequies : Come, lay him
down. Bel. Here's a few flowers; but about midnight,
See W. Collins's song at the end of the Play.
The herbs, that have on them cold dew o'the night,
[Exeunt Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Imo. (Awaking.] Yes, sir, to Milford- Haven ;
Which is the way? I thank you. By yon bush?--Pray, how far thither? 'Ods pittikins !-can it be six miles yet? I have gone all night:'Faith, I'll lie down and
sleep. But, soft! no bedfellow:-0, gods and goddesses !
(Seeing the body.
• This diminutive adjuration is derived from God's my pity.
1 An arrow. A face like Jove's.
Conspir’d with that irregulous* devil, Cloten,
that? Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart, And left this head on.--How should this be? Pisa
nio? "Tis he, and Cloten: malice and lucre in them Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, pregnantt! The drug he gave me, which, he said, was precious And cordial to me, have I not found it Murd'rous to the senses? That confirms it home: This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: 01Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood, That we the horrider may seem to those Which chance to find us; O, my lord, my lord!
Enter Lucius, a Captain and other Officers, and a
Soothsayer. Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia, After your will, have cross'd the sea; attending You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships : They are here in readines. Luc.
But what from Rome?
When expect you them?
• Lawless, licentious.
Makes our hopes fair. Command, our present numbers Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir, What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's pur.
pose ? Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a
vision : (I fast, and pray'd, for their intelligence,) Thus:I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd From the spongy south to this part of the west, There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends (Unless my sins abuse my divination), Success to the Roman host. Luc.
Dream often so, And never false.Soft, ho! what trunk is here, Without his top? The ruin speaks, that sometime It was a worthy building.--How! a page! Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead, rather : For uature doth abhor to make his bed With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead. Let's see the boy's face. Cap.
He is alive, my lord. Luc. He'll then instruct us of this body. Young
one, Inform us of thy fortunes; for, it seems. They crave to be demanded: Who is this, Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who he, That, otherwise than noble nature did, Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it? What art thou?
Imo. I am nothing: or if not, Nothing to be were better. This was my master, A very valiant Briton, and a good, That here by mountaineers lies slain :-Alas! There are no more such masters: I may wander From east to occidente, cry out for service, Try many, all good, serve truly, never Find such another master.
• The west.