Let me alone with him. [Exeunt Bellarius and Arviragus

Clot. Soft, what are you

That fly me thus? Some Villain-Mountainers

I have heard of fuch.

Guid. A thing

What Slave art thou?

More flavish did I ne'er, than answering

A Slave without a knock.

Clot. 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?

Clot. Thou Villain base,

Know'ft me not by my Cloaths?

Guid. No, nor thy Tailor, Rafcal,

Who is thy Grandfather, he made those Cloaths,
Which, as it feems, make thee.

Clot. Thou precious Varlet!
My Tailor made them not.

Guid. Hence then, and thank

The Man that gave them thee. Thou art fome Fool,
I am loth to beat thee.

Clot. Thou injurious Thief,

Hear but my Name, and tremble.
Guid. What's thy Name?

Clot. Cloten, thou Villain.

Guid. Cloten, thou double Villain be thy Name, I cannot tremble at it; were it Toad, or Adder, Spider, 'Twould move fooner.

Clot. To thy further fear,

Nay, to thy meer Confufion, thou shalt know

I am Son to th' Queen.

Guid. I am forry for't; not feeming

So worthy as thy Birth.

Clot. Art not afraid?

Guid. Those that I reverence, 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 ev'n now fled hence,

And on the Gates of Lud's Town fet your Heads:
Yield Ruftick Mountaineer.

[Fight and Exeunt.

Enter Bellarius and Arviragus.

Bel. No Company's abroad.

Arv. None in the World; you did mistake him fure. Bel. I cannot tell; long is it fince I saw him, But Time hath nothing blurr'd thofe Lines of Favour Which then he wore; the fnatches in his Voice, And burst of speaking were as his: I am abfolute Twas very Cloten.

Arv. In this place we left them;

I wish my Brother make good time with him,
You fay he is fo fell.

Bel. Being scarce made up,

I mean to Man; he had not apprehenfion
Of roaring Terrors: For defect of Judgment
Is oft the caufe of Fear. But fee thy Brother.
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:
Yet I not doing this, the Fool had born

My Head, as I do his.

Bel. What haft thou done?

Guid. I am perfect what; cut off one Cloten's Head
Son to the Queen, after his own report,

Who call'd me Traitor, Mountaineer, and fwore.
With his own Hand he'd take us in,

Difplace our Heads, where, thanks to th' Gods, they grow,
And fet them on Lud's Town.

Bel. We are all undone.

Guid. Why, worthy Father, what have we to lofe,
But that he swore to take, our Lives? the Law
Protects not us, then why fhould we be tender,
To let an arrogant piece of Flesh threat us?
Play Judge, and Executioner, all himself?
For we do fear no Law. What Company
Discover you abroad?
Bel. No fingle Soul

Car

Can we fet Eye on; but in all safe reason
He must have fome Attendants. Though his Honour
Was nothing but mutation, ay and that
From one bad thing to worfe; Not Frenzy,
Not abfolute Madness could fo far have rav'd
To bring him here alone, although perhaps
It may be heard at Court, that fuch as we
Cave here, haunt here, are Out-laws, 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 fo undertaking,

Or they fo fuffering; then on good ground we fear,
If we do fear this Body hath a Tail
More perilous than the Head.

Arv. Let Ordnance

Come, as the Gods forefay it, how foe'er
My Brother hath done well.

Bel. I had no mind

To hunt this day: The Boy Fidele's fickness

Did make my way long forth.

Guid. With his own Sword,

Which he did wave againft 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 Sor, Cloten,

That's all I reak.

Bel. I fear 'twill be reverg'd:

[Exit.

Would, Polidore, thou hadft not done'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 haft robb'd me of this deed; I would Revenges That poffible Strength might meet, would seek us through, And put us to our anfwer.

Bel. Well, 'tis done:

We'll hunt no more to day, nor feek for danger

Where there's no profit. I prithee to our Rock,
You and Fidele play the Cooks: I'll ftay

Till hafty Polidore return, and bring him
VOL. VI.

L

Το

To Dinner presently.

Arv. Poor fick Fidele!

I'll willingly to him; to gain his colour,
I'd let a Parish of fuch Clotens blood,
And praise my felf for Charity.

Bel. O thou Goddefs,

Thou divine Nature! thy felf thou blazon'ft
In these two Princely Boys: they are as gentle
As Zephyrs blowing below the Violet,

Not wagging his fweet Head; and yet, as rough,
Their Royal Blood enchaf'd, as the rud'ft Wind,
That by the top doth take the Mountain Pine,
And make him ftoop to th' Vail. 'Tis wonder
That an invifible inftin&t should frame them
To Royalty unlearn'd, Honour untaught,
Civility not feen from other; Valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been fow'd: yet ftill it's strange
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us.

Enter Guiderius.

Guid. Where's my Brother?

I have fent Cloten's Clot-pole down the stream,
In Embaffie to his Mother; his Body's hoftage
For his Return.

Bel My ingenious Inftrument,

Hark Polidore, it founds: But what occafion

[Exit.

[Solemn Mufick

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 my dear'ft Mother

It did not fpeak before. All folemn things
Should anfwer folemn 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 hi

Arms.

Bel. Look, here he comes,

And brings the dire occafion in his Arms,

Of what we blame him for.

Arv. The Bird is dead

That we have made fo much on. I had rather
Have skipt from fixteen Years of Age, to fixty:
To have turn'd my leaping time into a Crutch,
Than have feen this.

Guid. Oh fweeteft, faire ft Lilly!

My Brother wears thee not the one half fo well,
As when thou grew'ft thy felf.

Bel. Oh Melancholly,

Who ever yet could found thy bottom? Find
The Ooze, to fhew what Coaft thy fluggish care
Might cafilieft harbour in? Thou blessed thing.
Jove knows what Man thou might'ft have made: but I,
Thou dy'dft, a more rare Boy, of Melancholly.
How found you him?

Arv. Stark, as you fee:

Thus fmiling as fome Fly had tickled Slumber,
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, whofe rudeness
Anfwer'd my Steps 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 to thee.

Arv. With faireft Flow'rs

Whilft Summer lafts, and I live here, Fidele,
I'll fweeten thy fad Grave: thou shalt not lack
The Flow'r that's like thy Face, pale Primrofe; nor
The azur'd Hare-Bell, like thy Veins; no nor
The Leaf of Eglantine, whom not to flander,
Out-fweetn'd not thy Breath: the Raddock would
With charitable Bill (Oh Bill fore fhaming
Thofe rich-left Heirs, that let their Fathers lye
Without a Monument) bring thee all this,

Yea, and furr'd Mofs befides. When Flow'rs are none
To Winter-ground thy coarse-