Bel. To the field, to the field.— We'll leave you for this time; go in, and rest. Arv. We'll not be long away. Bel. For you must be our housewife. Imo. I am bound to you. Pray, be not sick, Well, or ill, And shalt be ever. [Exit IMOGEN. This youth, howe'er distressed, appears, he hath had Good ancestors. Arv. How angel-like he sings! Gui. But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters; And sauced our broths, as Juno had been sick, A smiling with a sigh; as if the sigh Was that it was, for not being such a smile; With winds that sailors rail at. Gui. I do note, That grief and patience, rooted in him both, Arv. Grow, patience! And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine His perishing root, with the increasing vine!? Bel. It is great morning.3 Come; away.-Who's there? Enter CLOTEN. Clo. I cannot find those runagates; that villain Hath mocked me. I am faint. Bel. Those runagates! 1 Spurs are the longest and largest leading roots of trees. 2 "Let patience grow, and let the stinking elder, grief, untwine his perishing root from those of the increasing vine, patience." With, from, and by, are almost always convertible words. 3 The same phrase occurs in Troilus and Cressida, Act iv. Sc. 3. It is a Gallicism:-"Il est grand matin." Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis I know 'tis he.-We are held as outlaws.-Hence. [Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAgus. Clo. Gui. More slavish did I ne'er, than answering A slave, without a knock.1 Clo. A thing Thou art a robber, A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief. Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou? Have not I An arm as big as thine? a heart as big? Clo. Know'st me not by my clothes? Gui. Thou villain base, No, nor thy tailor, rascal, Thou precious varlet, Who is thy grandfather; he made those clothes, Clo. My tailor made them not. Gui. Hence, then, and thank The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool; I am loath to beat thee. Gui. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, I cannot tremble at it; were't toad, or adder, spider, "Twould move me sooner. 1 i. e. than answering that abusive word slave. VOL. VI. 37 Clo. To thy further fear, Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know I'm son to the queen. So worthy as thy birth. Clo. I'm sorry for't; not seeming Art not afeard? Gui. Those that I reverence, those I fear-the wise; At fools I laugh, not fear them. Die the death. Clo. And on the gates of Lud's town set your heads. [Exeunt, fighting. Enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS. Bel. No company's abroad. Arv. None in the world; you did mistake him, sure. Bel. I cannot tell. Long is it since I saw him, But time hath nothing blurred those lines of favor Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking, were as his. I am absolute 'Twas very Cloten. Arv. In this place we left them. Bel. Is oft the cure of fear. Being scarce made up, But see, thy brother. Re-enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN's head. Gui. This Cloten was a fool; an empty purse, There was no money in't. Not Hercules 1 The old copy reads, "Is oft the cause of fear; " but Belarius is assigning a reason for Cloten's foolhardy desperation, not accounting for his cowardice. The emendation adopted is Hanmer's. 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? Gui. I am perfect, what: cut off one Cloten's head; Son to the queen, after his own report; Who called me traitor, mountaineer; and swore, Displace our heads, where, (thank the gods!) they grow, And set them on Lud's town. Bel. We are all undone. Gui. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, Bel. No single soul He must have some attendants. Though his humor1 To come alone, either he so undertaking, Or they so suffering. Then on good ground we fear, If we do fear this body hath a tail More perilous than the head. 1 "I am well informed what." 2 i. e. conquer, subdue us. 3 For again in the sense of cause. 4 The old copy reads, "his honor." The emendation is Theobald's. Arv. Let ordinance Come as the gods foresay it; howsoe'er, I had no mind Bel. With his own sword, Gui. And tell the fishes, he's the queen's son, Cloten. Bel. I fear 'twill be revenged; [Exit. 'Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done't! though valor Becomes thee well enough. Arv. 'Would I had done't, So the revenge alone pursued me !-Polydore, I love thee brotherly; but envy much, Thou hast robbed me of this deed. I would revenges, That possible strength might meet, would seek us through, And put us to our answer. Bel. Well, 'tis done ; We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him To dinner presently. Arv. Poor sick Fidele! I'll willingly to him. To gain his color, Bel. O thou goddess, [Exit. 1 "Fidele's sickness made my walk forth from the cave tedious." 2 "Such pursuit of vengeance as fell within any possibility of opposition." 3 "To restore Fidele to the bloom of health, to recall the color into his cheeks, I would let out the blood of a whole parish, or any number of such fellows as Cloten." A parish is a common phrase for a great number. |