Nay, to thy meer confufion, thou shalt know I'm fon to th' queen. Guid. I'm forry for't; not seeming So worthy as thy birth. Clot. Art not afraid? Guid. Thofe that I rev'rence, thofe I fear; the wife: 'At fools I laugh, not fear them. Clot. Die the death: When I have flain thee with my proper hand, I'll follow thofe that even now fled hence, And on the gates of Lud's town fet your heads; Yield ruftick mountaineer. SCENE [Fight and Exeunt. IV. Enter Bellarius and Arviragus. Bel. No company's abroad. Arv. None in the world; you did mistake him sure. 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 apprehenfion Enter Guiderius. Guid. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse, There was no mony in't; not Hercules Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none: My head, as I do his. Bel. What haft thou done? Guid. I'm perfect what; cut off one Cloten's head, Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore Displace our heads, where, thanks to th' gods, they grow, Bel. We're all undone! Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, Bel. No fingle foul Can we fet eye on; but in all safe reason He must have some attendants. Though his honour From one bad thing to worse; yet not his frenzy, It may be heard at court, that fuch as we Cave here, haunt here, are out-laws, and in time To come alone, nor he so undertaking, Nor they so suffering; then on good ground we fear, If we do fear this body hath a tail Arv. Let ordinance Come, as the gods forefay it, howfoe'er Bel. I had no mind To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness Guid. With his own sword, Which he did wave against my throat, I've ta'en And tell the fishes, he's the queen's fon Cloten. Bel. I fear 'twill be reveng❜d: Would, Polidore, thou hadst not don't! though valour Becomes thee well enough. Arv. Would I had done't, So the revenge alone purfu'd me! Polidore, I love thee brotherly, but envy much Thou'ft robb'd me of this deed; I would revenges That poffible strength might meet, would seek us thro', And put us to our answer. Bel. Well, 'tis done: We'll hunt no more to-day, nor feek for danger Where there's no profit. Pr'ythee to our rock, 'Till hafty Polidore return, and bring him Arv. Poor fick Fidele! I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour And praise my self for charity. VO L. VI. + care [Exit. [Exit. J Bel. O thou goddess, Thou divine nature! how thy felf thou blazon'ft Not wagging his fweet head; and yet as rough, (Their royal blood enchaf'd,) as the rude wind, And make him ftoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonderful To royalty unlearn'd, honour untaught, Civility not seen from other; valour, That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop Re-enter Guiderius. Guid. Where's my brother? I have sent Cloten's clot-pole down the stream, Bel. My ingenious instrument! Hark Polidore, it founds: but what occafion Hath Cadwall now to give it motion? hark. Bel. He went hence even now. [Solemn mufick. Guid. What does he mean? Since death of my dear mother It did not speak before. All folemn things Should answer folemn accidents. The matter? * Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys, Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys. Is Cadwall mad? SCENE V. &c. SCENE Enter Arviragus, with Imogen dead, bearing her in his Bel. Look, here he comes! arms. And brings the dire occafion in his arms, Arv. The bird is dead That we have made fo much on! I had rather • Have skipt from fixteen years of age, to fixty; And turn'd my leaping time into a crutch, < Than have seen this. Guid. Oh fweetest, faireft lilly! My brother wears thee not one half so well, Bel. Oh melancholy! 'Who ever yet could found thy bottom? find The ooze, to fhew what coast thy fluggish care Jove knows what man thou might'st have made? but ah! < Thou dy'dft, a most rare boy, of melancholy! "How found you him? Arv. Stark, as you fee: Thus fmiling, as fome fly had tickled flumber, 'Not as death's dart being laugh'd at: his right cheek Repofing on a cushion. Guid. Where? Arv. O'th' floor: His arms thus leagu'd; I thought he slept, and put My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness Answer'd my steps too loud. Guid. Why, he but fleeps; Cc 2 If |