That nothing-gift of defering multitudes,

Could not out-peer thefe twain-Pardon me, Gods! I'd change my fex to be companion with them, Since Leonatus is falfe.

Bel. It fhall be fo:

Boys, we'll go drefs our Hunt. Fair youth, come in;
Difcourfe is heavy, falling; when we've fupp'd,
We'll mannerly demand thee of thy ftory,
So far as thou wilt fpeak.

Guid. I pray, draw near.

Aru. The night to th' owl, and morn to th' lark, lefs welcome!

Imo. Thanks, Sir.

Arv. I pray, draw near..

SCENE

[Exeunt.

VIII.

1 Sen.

Changes to ROME.

Enter two Roman Senators, and Tribunes.

THE

HIS is the tenor of the Emperor's Writ;
That fince the common men are now in
action

'Gainft the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our war against
The fall'n-off Britons; that we do incite
The gentry to this business. He creates
Lucius Pro-conful; and to you, the tribunes
For this immediate levy, he commends
His abfolute commiffion. Long live Cæfar!
Tri. Is Lucius Gen'ral of the Forces ?
2 Sen. Ay.

Tri. Remaining now in Gallia ?

1 Sen. With those legions

Which I have fpoke of, whereunto your Levy

Muft be fuppliant. The words of your commiffion

Will tie you to the numbers and the time

Of their dispatch.

Tri.. We will discharge our duty.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

I

The Forel in Wales.

Enter Cloten alone.

Am near to th' place where they fhould meet, if Pifanio have mapp'd it truly. How fit his garments ferve me! why fhould his miftrefs, who was made by him that made the taylor, not be fit too? the rather, (faving reverence of the word.), because, 'tis faid, a woman's fitnefs comes by fits. Therein I muft play the workman; I dare fpeak it to myself, (for it is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber;) I mean, the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no lefs young, more ftrong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike converfant in general fervices and inore remarkable in fingle oppofitions; yet this ill perfeverant thing loves him in my defpight. What mortality is! Pofthumus, thy head, which is now growing upon thy fhoulders, fhall within this hour be off, thy miftrefs enforc'd, thy garments cut to pieces before her face; and all this done, fpurn her home to her father, who may, happily, be a little angry for my fo rough ufage; but my mother, having power of his teftiness, fhall turn all into my commendations. My horfe is ty'd up fafe: out, fword, and to a fore purpofe! fortune put them into my hand; this is the very defcription of their meeting place, and the fellow dares not deceive

me.

[Exit. SCENE

Changes to the Front of the Cave.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen, from the Cave.

U are not well: remain here in the cave;

We'll come t you after hunting.

Bel.

Arv. Brother, ftay here:

Are we not brothers ?.

Imo. So man and man should be;

But clay and clay differs in dignity,

[To Imogen.

Whofe duft is both alike. I'm very fick.

Guid. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him.
Imo. So fick I am not, yet I am not well;

But not fo citizen a wanton, as

To feem to die, ere fick: fo please you, leave me ;
Stick to your journal courfe; the breach of custom
Is breach of all. I'm ill, but your being by met
Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort
To one not fociable: I'm not very fick,
Since I can reafon of it. Pray you trust me here,
I'll rob none but myfelf; and let me die,
Stealing fo poorly.

Guid. I love thee: I have spoke it;

How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.

Bel. What? how? how?

Arv. If it be fin to fay fo, Sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault: I know not why
I love this youth, and I have heard you fay,
Love reasons without reafon. The bier at door,
And a demand who is't fhall die, I'd say,
My father, not this youth.

Bel. O noble strain !

O worthiness of nature, breed of greatness!

Cowards father cowards, and base things fire the base:

Nature

Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
I'm not their father; yet who this fhould be,
Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me !-
'Tis the ninth hour o' th' morn.

Arv. Brother, farewel.

Imo. I wish ye fport.

Arv. You health-fo pleafe you, Sir.
Imo. These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies
I've heard!

Our courtiers fay, all's favage, but at court:
Experience, oh, how thou difprov'ft report,-
Th' imperious feas breed monfters; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers as fweet fish ;

I am fick fill, heart-fick-Pifanio,
I'll now tafle of thy drug.

Guid. I could not ftir him;

[Drinks out of the phial.

He faid, he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishoneftly afflicted, but yet honeft.

Arv. Thus did he answer me; yet faid, hereafter

I might know more.

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

We'll leave you for this time go in and reft.

Arv. We'll not be long away.

Bel. Pray, be not sick,

For you must be our housewife.

Imo. Well or ill,

I am bound to you..

Bel. And fhall be ever.

[Exit Imogen, to the Cave.

(

This youth, howe'er, diftréfs'd, appears to have had

Good ancestors.

Arv. How angel-like he fings!

Guid. But his neat cookery!

Arv. He cut our roots in characters;

And fauc'd our broth, as Juno had been fick,
And he her dicter.

Aru. Nobly he yokes

A fmiling with a figh, as if the figh

Was that it was, for not being fuch a fmile:

The

The fmile mocking the figh, that it would fly
From fo divine a temple, to commix
With winds that failors rail at.

Guid. I do note,

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

Aru. Grow, Patience!

And let the ftinking Elder, Grief, untwine
His perishing root, with the encreafing vine!
Bel. It is great morning. Come, away: who's

Clot. I

Cannot find those runagates: that villain
Hath mock'd me.-I am faint.

Bel. Those runagates!

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

Cloten, the fon o' th' Queen; I fear fome ambush-
I saw him not these many years, and yet

I know, 'tis he: we're held as Out-laws; hence.
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.

Clot. Soft! what are you,

That fly me thus ? fome villain-mountaineer..

I've heard of fuch.

Guid. A thing

What flave art thou?

More flavish did I ne'er, than answering

A flave 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