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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.
Bel, Being scarce made up,
I mean, to man, he had not apprehension
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;
And set them on Lud's town.
• 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,
Arc. Let ordinance
Come as the gods foresay it: howsoever,
Bel. - I had no mind
To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness
Gui. With his own sword,
Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en
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,
Bel. Well, 'tis done :—
We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Arv. Poor sick Fidele!
I'll willingly to him: To gain* his colour,
Bel. O thou goddess,
Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st
* Regain, restore.
Gut. Where's niy brother?
I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
Bel. My ingenious instrument!
Hark, Polydore, it sounds! Bat what occasion
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,
An. The bird is dead,
That we have made so much on. I had rather
Gui, O sweetest, fairest lily!
My brother wears thee not the one half so well,
Bel. O, melancholy!
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find
* 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 !—
Arv. Stark*, as you see:
Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
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;
Arc. With fairest flowers,
Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
Gui. Pr'ythee, have done;
And do not play in wench-like words with that
• SUff. t Shoes plated with iron,
t The red-breast.
$ Probably a corrupt reading, for, wither round' thy corse.