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I fear, 'twill be reveng'd : 'Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done't! though
valour 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 robb'd me of this deed : I would, revenges, That possible strength might meet, would seek u
Well, 'tis done :--
Poor sick Fidele!
O thou goddess,
9 Regain, restore.
Civility not seen from other ; valour,
Where's my brother? I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream, In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage For his return.
Gui. Is he at home ?.
He went hence even now. Gui. What does he mean? since death of my
Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, bearing IMOGEN as dead, in
his Arms. Bel.
Look, here he comes,
The bird is dead,
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,
O sweetest, fairest lily!
O, melancholy !
Stark, as you see :
O'the floor; His arms thus leagu'd: I thought, he slept; and put My clouted brogues 4 from off my feet, whose rudeness Answer'd my steps too loud, Gui.
Why, he byt sleeps : 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. Aro.
With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : Thou shalt not lack
2 A slow-sailing, unwieldy vessel.
4 Shoes plated with iron,
The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor
Priythee, have done;
Say, where shall's lay him? Gui. By good Euriphile, our mother.
We'll speak it then. Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less : for
Be't so :
S The red-breast. • Probably a corrupt reading, for, wither round thy corse.
He was paid for that: Though mean and mighty,
rotting Together, have one dust; yet reverence, (That angel of the world,) doth make distinction Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely; And though you took his life, as being our foe, Yet bury him as a prince. Gui.
Pray you, fetch him hither. Thersites' body is as good as Ajax, When neither are alive. Aru.
If you'll go fetch him. We'll say our song the whilst.--Brother, begin.
[Erit BELARIUS. Gui. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east; My father hath a reason for't. Arv.
"Tis true. Gui. Come on then, and remove him. Arv.
Gui. Fear no more the heat o'the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages :
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ;
To thee the reed is as the oak :