Luc. He'll then inftruct us of this body. Young one, Inform us of thy fortunes, for, it feems, They crave to be demanded: who is this, Thou mak'ft thy bloody pillow? who was he, That, otherwife than noble Nature did,

Hath alter'd that good picture? what's thy interest In this fad wreck? how came it, and who is it? What art thou?

Imo. I am nothing; or if not, Nothing to be, were better.

This was my mafter, A very valiant Briton, and a good,

That here by mountaineers lies flain: alas!
There are no more fuch masters: I may wander
From Eaft to Occident cry out for fervice,
Try many, all good, ferve them truly, never

Find fuch another master.

Luc. 'Lack, good youth!

Thou mov't no lefs with thy complaining, than Thy mufler in bleeding: fay his name, good friend. Imo. Richard du Camp. If I do lie, and do

No harm by it, though the Gods hear, I hope, [Afide. They'll pardon it. Say you, Sir?

Luc. Thy name?

Imo. Fidele, Sir.

Luc. Thou doft approve thyfelf the very fame; Thy name well fits thy faith; thy faith, thy name. Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not fay Thou fhalt be fo well mafter'd, but, be fure, No lefs belov'd. The Roman Emperor's letters, Sent by a Conful to me, fhould no fooner, Than thine own worth, prefer thee: go with me. Imo. I'll follow, Sir. But firft, an't pleafe the Gods,

I'll hide my mafter from the flies as deep

As thefe poor pickaxes can dig: and when

With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' ftrew'd his

Grave,

And on it faid a century of pray'rs,

(Such

(Such as I can.) twice o'er, I'll weep and figh;
And, leaving fo his fervice, 'follow you,
So please you entertain me.

Luc. Ay, good youth,

And rather father thee, than mafter thee,
My friends,

The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us
Find out the prettieft dazied-plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partizans
A Grave; come, arm him: boy, he is preferr'd
By thee to us, and he fhall be interr'd

A's foldiers can. Be chearful, wipe thine eyes : Some Falls are means the happier to arise. [Exeunt.

Changes to Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pifanio.

Cym. AGAIN; and bring me word, how 'tis

A fever with the abfence of her fon;

Madness, of which her life's in danger; heav'ns!
How deeply you at once do touch me. Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone! my Queen
Upon a defperate bed, and in a time

When fearful wars point at me! her fon gone,
So needful for this prefent! it ftrikes me, paft
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure, and
Doll feem fo ignorant, we'll force it from thee
By a fharp torture.

Pif. Sir, my life is yours,

I fet it at your will: but, for my miftrefs,

I nothing know where the remains; why, gone;
Nor when he purposes Return.

Highness,

Hold me your loyal fervant.

Befeech your

R 5

Lord.

Lord. Good my liege,

The day that he was miffing, he was here;
I dare be bound he's true, and fhall perform
All parts of his fubjection loyally. For Cloten,
There wants no diligence in feeking him,
And will no doubt be found,

Cym. The time is troublesome;

We'll flip you for a feafon, but our jealousy
Do's yet depend.

Lord. So please your Majesty,

The Roman Legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coaft, with large supply
Of Roman Gentlemen, by th' Senate fent.

Cym. Now for the counsel of my Son and Queen!I am amaz'd with matter.

Lord. Good my liege,

Your preparation can affront no less

Than what you hear of.

- you're ready;

Come more, for more

The want is, but to put thefe Powers in motion,
That long to move.

We fear not

Cym. I thank you; let's withdraw,
And meet the time, as it feeks us.
What can from Italy annoy us, but

We grieve at chances here.-Away.- [Exeunt.
Pif. I heard no letter from my mafter, fince
I wrote him, Imogen was flain.
'Tis ftrange;
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings. Neither know I,
What is betide to Cloten; but remain

Perplext in all. The heavens ftill muft work;
Wherein I'm falfe, I'm honeft; not true, to be true.
These present wars fhall find, I love my Country,
Ev'n to the note o' th' King, or I fall in them;
All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd;
Fortune brings in fome boats, that are not fteer'd.
[Exit.
SCENE

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

OHE noife is round about us.

Guid.TH Bel. Let us from it.

Arv. What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to lock it From action and adventure ?

Guid. Nay, what hope

Have we in hiding us? this way the Romans
Muft or for Britons flay us, or receive us
For barb'rous and unnatural Revolts
During their use, and flay us after.

Bel. Sons,

We'll higher to the mountains, there fecure us.
To the King's Party there's no going; newness
Of Cloten's death (we being not known, nor mufter'd
Among the bands) may drive us to a Render

Where we have liv'd and fo extort from us

:

That which we've done, whose answer would be death Drawn on with torture.

Guid. This is, Sir, a doubt

(In such a time) nothing becoming you,

Nor fatisfying us.

Arv. It is not likely,

That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,

*

Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
And ears fo 'ploy'd importantly as now,

That they will wafte their time upon our note
To know from whence we are.

Bel. Oh, I am known

Of many in the army; many years,

-have both their eyes

And ears fo cloy'd importantly as now.] There is no Doubt, but our Islanders would be thoroughly cloy'd of the Sight and Noife of a terrible and powerful Invader. Shahefpear without Doubt wrote, -fo 'ploy'd importantly as now.

i. e. employ'd or taken up with Things of fuch Importance. Warb. Though

Though Cloten then but young, (you fee,) not wore him
From my remembrance. And, befides, the King
Hath not deferv'd my service, nor your loves,
Who find in my exile the want of breeding;
The certainty of this hard life, aye hopeless
To have the courtefy your cradle promis'd;
But to be ftill hot fummer's tanlings, and
The fhrinking flaves of winter.

Guid. Than be fo, Better to ceafe to be.

Pray, Sir, to th' army;
I and my brother are not known; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto fo o'er-grown,
Cannot be queftion'd.

Aru. By this Sun that fhines,

I'll thither; what thing is it, that I never
Did fee man die, fcarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venifon?
Never beftrid a horse fave one, that had

A rider like myfelf who ne'er wore rowel,
Nor iron on his heel? I am afham'd
To look upon the holy Sun, to have
The benefit of his belt beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guid. By heav'ns, I'll go ;

If you will blefs me, Sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you

will not,

The hazard therefore due fall on me, by
The hands of Romans!

Aru. So fay I, Amen.

Bel. No reafon I (fince of your lives you fet So flight a valuation) fhould reserve

My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys; If in your country wars you chance to die,

That is my bed too, lads; and there I'll lie.

Lead, lead; the time feems long: their blood thinks

fcorn

'Till it fly out, and fhew them Princes born.

[Exeunt.

ACT