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Who is thy grandfather he made those clothes,
Enter BELARIUs and ARVIRA gus.
Bel. No company's abroad. Arv. None in the world: You did mistake him, Sure. “ Bel. No; time has 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.— But see, my brother!
Guid. This Cloten was a fool; not Hercules Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none. Bel. What hast thou done? Guid. 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 row, And set them on Lud's town. Bel. We are all undone. Guid. 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; It is not probable he would come alone.— I had no mind To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness Did make my way long forth. Guid. With his own sword, Which he did wave against my throat, I’ve 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. [Erit. Bel. I fear, 'twill be revengd: 'Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done’t though valour Becomes thee well enough. Arv. 'Would I had done’tl
Bel. Well, 'tis done:—
Arv. Poor sick Fidele !
Bel. O, thou goddess,
Guid. Where's my brother I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream, In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage For his return. [Solemn Music in the Cave. Bel. My ingenious instrument!— Hark, Polydore! it sounds! But what occasion Hath Cadwal now to give it motion Hark! Guid. Is he at home Bel. He went hence even now. Guid. What does he mean? Since death of my dear'st mother,
It did not speak before. All solemn things
Bel. Look, here he comes! Arv. The bird is dead, - That we have made so much on. I had rather Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty, Than have seen this. Guid. O sweetest, fairest lily! And art thou gone, my poor Fidele Bel. What! is he dead How found you him?' " Arv. Stark:—smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at: his right cheek Reposing on a cushion. Guid. Where? Arv. O' the floor; His arms thus leagu'd : I thought, he slept. Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less: for Cloten Is o: forgot. He was a queen's son, boys; And, though he came our enemy, remember, He was paid for that: Our foe was princely; And though you took his life, as being our foe, Yet bury him as a prince. Go, bring your lily. [Ereunt GUIDERIUs and ARVIRAgus into the Cave. O, melancholy! Who ever yet could sound thy bottom –find The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare Might easiliest harbour in?—Thou blessed thing! Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but, ah | Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.
Enter GUIDERrus and ARVIRagus, from the Cave, bearing Imogen's Body.
Come, let us lay the bodies each by each,
Enter CYMBELINE, Second Lord, Pisa Nio, and |ATTEN DANTs.
Cym. Again; and bring me word, how the queen does. [Erit an ATTENDANT.
A fever, with the absence of her son ;