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I mean, to man, he had not apprehenfion:
Of roaring terrors; for th' effect of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear. But see, thy brother..
Enter GUIDERIUS, with Cloten's Head..
Guid. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purses
There was no money in't; -not Hercules.
Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none :
Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
My head, as I do his.
Bel. What hast thou done?
Guid. I'm perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head, Son to the Queen, after his own report; Who called me traitor, mountaineer, and sworeWith his own single hand he'd take us in ; Displace our heads, where, thanks to th: Gods, they And set them on Lud's town.
[grow, Bel. We're all undone !
Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, But what he swore to take, our lives? the law Protects not us; then why should we be tender To let an arrogant piece of Hesh threat us? Play judge, and executioner, all himself? For we do fear the law. What company Discover you abroad?
cing scarce then at man's estate, lie had no apprehenfron
of roaring terrors, i. e of any thing that could check hiin.
with fcars. But then how does the inference come in, built
upon this ? for defrå of judgment is oft the cause of féar.
I think the Poet meant to have said the mere contrary.
Cloten was defective in judgment, and therefore did aot
tcar. Apprehensions of fear grow from a judgment in weigh-
jag dangers. And a very easy change, from the traces of
the letters, gives us this fénre, and reconciles the rea foning
of the whole passage ;
For the feet of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear,
Bel. No single foul
Can we set eye on; but, in all safe reason,
He must have some attendants. (43) Though his
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that [humour
From one bad thing to worfe; yet not his frenzy,
Not abfolute madness, could fo far have raved,
To bring him here alone; although, perhaps,
It may be heard at court, that such as we
Cave here, haunt here, are out-laws, and in time
May make some itronger 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, nor he so undertaking,
Nor they fo futlering; then on good ground we fear;
If I do fear, this body hath a tail:
More perilous than the head. /
Aru. Let ordinance
Come, as the gods foresay it: howsoever,
My brother hath dole well.
Bel. I had no mind
To hunt this day: the boy, Fidele's sickness:
- Did make my way long forth:
Guid. With his own fword,
Which he did wave against my throat, I've ta’ex
His head from him: I'll throw't into the creek
(43)---Though his honour
was nothing lut amtation, &c.] What has his lonour to do here in his being changeable in this fort ? in his acting as a madman, or not? I have ventured to fubftitute humour, against the authority of the priated copies; and the meaning fèems plainly this : Though he was always fickle to the last degree, and governed by humour, not found sense; yec not madness itself could make him so hardy to attempt ar: enterprise of this nature alone and untecoinded. The like miltaks of honour for bumour had taken place in a passage of the Vierry Wives of Windjir, which i'corrected fron the lanen tion of the old Quarto imprethons.
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.
["Exitos Bel. I, fear 'twill be revenged : 'Would, Paladour, thou hadit not. done't ! though: Becomes thee well enough.
TV. 'Would I had done't,
So the revenge alone pursued me.! Paładour,
I love thee brotherly, but envy much
Thou'le, robbed me of this deed; I would revenges,
That poflible strength might meet, would seek us thro'..
And put us to our answer.
Bel. Well, 'lis done:
We'll hint no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Where there's no profit. Pr’ythee, to our rock,
You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay,
'Till hasty Paladour return, and bring him
To dinner presently.
Arv. Poor fick Fidele.!
I'll willingly to him: to gain his colour,
I'd let * paritk of such Clotens blood,
And praise myself for charity.
[Exit Bels. O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature ! how thyself thou blazonest? 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 rudest wind,
That by the top dothi take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to th?vale.---'Tis wonderful;
That an invifible instinct ftrould frame. them -
To royalty unlearned, honour untaught,
Civility not seen from other: valour,
That wildly grows in them; but yields a crop
As if it had been sowed. Yet still it's ftrange
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us..
Guid. Where's my brother?
Tilave sent Cloten's clot-pole down the stream,
In embally to his mother; his body's hostage
For Lis return.
Bel. My ingenious intrument !
Hark, Paladour! it sounds : but what occasion
Hath Cadwall 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
It did not fpeak before. All folemn things
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter --
Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys,
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys.
Is Cadwall mad.?
Enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN-dead, bearing her
in his arms.
Bel. Look, here he comes!
And brings the dire occasion, in his arms,
Of what we blame him for.
Arur Tlie bird is dead
That we have made fo mueh on! I'had rather
Have ikipt from sixteen years of age to fixty;
And turned my leaping time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.
Guiche Oh sweetest, fairelt lily!
My brother wears thee not one half so well,
As when thou grewelt thyself.
Bel. (44). Oh melancholy !
(44) Oh melancholy !
Whoever get could found the bottom? firid
The ouze, to sew what.coaji thy Juggith care
Who ever yet could found thy bottom ? find
The ooze, to shew what coast thy sluggish carrack
Might easeliest harbour in?-thou blefled thing!
Jove knows what man thou mightest have made;
Thou diedít, a most rare boy, of melancholy!
How found you'him?
Aru. Stark, as you fee: Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled lumber; Not as death's dart, being laughed at: his right cheeks Reposing on a cushion.
Aro. O'th' floor:
His arms thus leagued; I thought he flept; and put
My cłouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answered my fteps too loud.
Guid. Why, he but fleeps;
If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
With female Fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come near thee.
Might ea feliest harbour in:] But as plausible as this at first fight may secm, all those who know any thing of good write ing, will agree that our Author must have wrote;
--to thew what coast thy fuggith càrrack
Might easelielt harbour in? Carrack is a low, heavy-built veffel of burden. This res Aores the uniformity of the metaphor, compicats the sense; and. is a word of great propriety and beauty to desigu a me lancholic perfon.
Mr Warburton. The word is uled again by our Author, in his Othello ;
Faith, be to-night hath boarded a land correct;
If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.
And we mect witli it likewise in Beaumont and Flicher ;
But there's the wonder, though their weighs would fiók
A Spanish carrack, without other ballast, &c.
Carraca, navis oneraria ingensa
Skinner. Carraque, navis amplifima..