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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 the effect of jndgement
Is oft the canse of fear: But see, thy brother.

Re-enter Guiderins, 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 bad borne My head as I do his.

Bel. What hast thou done?

Gui. I am perfectf, what: cut off one Cloten'* 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 J,
Displace our heads, where (thank the gods!) they
grow,

And set them on Lud's town.
Bel. We are all undone.

• Countenance. t I am well.informed what. X Conquer, subdue. VOL. VII. O

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 jndge, 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 humour
Was nothing but mutationf; ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse; not frensy, 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.

Arc. Let ordinance

Come as the gods foresay it: howsoever,
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 J.

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 revtfng' d:

* For, becanse. t Change, alteration. X Did make my walk tedious. $ Cars.

'Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done't! though valour

Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. 'Would I had done't,

So the revenge alone pursued 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,
I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood,
And praise myself for charity. [ Exit.

Bel. O thou goddess,

Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st
In these two princely boys! They are as gentle
As zephyrs, blowing below the violet,
Uot wagging his sweet head: and yet as rough.
Their royal blood enchaf'd, as the rnd'st wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonderful,
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unleam'd; honour untanght;
Civility not seem from other; valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow'd! Yet still it's strange,
What Cloten's being here to us portends;
Or what his death will bring us.

* Regain, restore.

Re-enter Guiderins.

Gut. Where's niy brother?

I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage
For his return. [Solemn musich.

Bel. My ingenious instrument!

Hark, Polydore, it sounds! Bat what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!

Gvi. Is he at home?

Bel. He went hence even now.

Gui. What does he mean? since death of my dear's t mother It did not speak before. All solemn things Should answer solemn accidents. The matter? Trinmphs for nothing, and lamenting toys*. Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys, Is Cadwal mad?

Ue-enter Arviragus, bearing Imogen as dead in his arms.

Bel. Look, here he comes.

And brings the dire occasion in his arms,
Of what we blame him for!

An. The bird is dead,

That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,
To have turn'd my leaping-time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.

Gui, O sweetest, fairest lily!

My brother wears thee not the one half so well,
As when thou grew'st thyself.

Bel. O, melancholy!

Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find
The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish craret
Might easiliest harbour in!—Thou blessed thing!

* Trifles. t A slow.sailing, unwieldy vessel.

Jove knows what man thou might'st have made; but I,

Thou died at, a most rare boy, of melancholy !—
How found you him?

Arv. Stark*, as you see:

Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
Not as death's dart, beinglaugh'd at: his right cheek
Reposing on a cushion.

Gui. Where?

Arv. O'the floor;

His arms thus leagn'd: I thonght, he slept; and put My clouted brognes t from off my feet, whose rndeness

Answer'd my steps too lond.

Gui. Why, he but sleeps:

If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
With female fairies will his tomb be hannted,
And worms will not come to thee.

Arc. With fairest flowers,

Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack
The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; not
The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the rnddock J would,
With charitable bill (O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!) bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none,
To winter-ground$ thy corse.

Gui. Pr'ythee, have done;

And do not play in wench-like words with that
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now dne debt.—To the grave.

• SUff. t Shoes plated with iron,

t The red-breast.

$ Probably a corrupt reading, for, wither round' thy corse.

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