Arv. Brother, stay here: Are we not brothers?

Imog. So man and man should be ; But clay and clay differs in dignity,

[TO IMOGEN.

Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.
Guid. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him.
Imog. So sick I am not;-yet I am not well:
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 am not very sick,
Since I can reason of it. 'Pray you, trust me here.
Guid. Brother, farewell.

Imog. I wish ye sport.

Arv. You health. So please you, sir.

[BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS confer apart.

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

Our courtiers say, all's savage, but at court.-
I am sick still; heart sick:-Pisanio,

I'll now taste of thy drug. [Drinks out of the Phial.
Guid. I could not stir him:

He said, he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.

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

I might know more.

Bel. To th' field, to th' field.

We'll leave you for this time; go in, and rest.
Arv. We'll not be long away.

Bel. 'Pray, be not sick;

For you must be our housewife.

Imog. Well, or ill,

I am bound to you.

[Exit IMOGEN, into the Cave.

Bel. This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears, he

hath had

Good ancestors.

Arv. How angel like he looks!

Nobly he yokes a smiling with a sigh.
Guid. I do note,

That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.

Bel. It is great morning. Come; away.

Cloten. [Within.] What, shall I never find this place?

Bel. Who's there?

[BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS retire.

Enter CLOTEN.

Cloten. I cannot find those runagates: that villain

Hath mock'd me.

Bel. Those runagates!

[Exit CLOTEN.

Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis

Cloten, the son o' the Queen. I fear some ambush, Guid. He is but one: You and my brother search What companies are near: 'pray you, away;

Let me alone with him.

[Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRagus.

Enter CLOTEN.

Cloten. Soft! What are you

That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers?

I have heard of such.

Thou art a robber,

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

Guid. To whom? 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.

Cloten. Thou villain, base!
Know'st me not by my clothes?
Guid. No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

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

Cloten. Thou injurious thief,
Hear but my name, and tremble!
Guid. What's your name?

Cloten. Cloten, thou villain!

Guid. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, I cannot tremble at it; were't toad, or adder, spider, 'Twould move me sooner.

Cloten. To thy further fear,

Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
I'm son to the Queen.

Guid. I'm sorry for't; not seeming

So worthy as thy birth.

Cloten. Art not afear'd?

Guid. Those, that I reverence, those I fear; the wise:

At fools I laugh, not fear them.

Cloten. 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, rustic mountaineer!

[Exeunt, fighting.

Enter BELARIus and Arviragus.

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!

Enter GUIDERius.

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 grow,

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.

Bel. I fear, 'twill be revenged:

[Exit.

"Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! though

valour

Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. 'Would I had done't!

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 !

1

I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour,
I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood,

And praise myself for charity. [Exit, into the Cave.
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,

Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rud'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 unlearn'd; honour unțaught;
Civility not seen 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.

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,