ACT IV.

SCENE I-The Forest, near the Cave.

Enter CLOTen.

Clo. I am near to the place where they should meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the rather (saving reverence of the word) for 't is said, a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak 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 less young, more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions: yet this imperseverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before thy face: and all this done, spurn her home to her father: who may, haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage: but my mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up safe: Out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand! This is the very description of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me.

[Exit.

a Imperseverant. The im is a prefix to perseverant; in the same way as impassioned.

SCENE II.--Before the Cave.

Enter, from the Cave, BELARIUS, Guiderius,
ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN.

Bel. You are not well: [To IMOGEN.] remain here in the cave;

We'll come to you after hunting.

Arv.

Are we not brothers?

Imo.

Brother, stay here: [To IMOGEN.

So man and man should be;

But clay and clay differs in dignity,

Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick,
Gui. Go you to hunting: I'll abide with him.
Imo. So sick I am not ;-yet I am not well:
But not so citizen a wanton, as

To seem to die, ere sick: So please you, leave me;
Stick to your journal course; the breach of custom
Is breach of all. I am ill; but your being by me
Cannot amend me: Society is no comfort

To one not sociable: I am not very sick,

Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here:
I'll rob none but myself; and let me die,
Stealing so poorly.

Gui.

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 sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault: I know not why
I love this youth; and I have heard you say,
Love's reason 's without reason; the bier at door,
And a demand who is 't shall die, I'd say,
"My father, not this youth."

Bel.
O noble strain! [Aside.
O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness!
Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base:
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.

I'm not their father; yet who this should be
Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.-

"T is the ninth hour of the morn.

Arv.

Imo. I wish ye sport.

Arv.

Brother, farewell.

You health. So please you, sir. Imo. [Aside.] These are kind creatures. what lies I have heard!

Our courtiers say all 's savage, but at court:
Experience, O, thou disprov'st report!

The imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.

I am sick still; heart-sick :-Pisanio,
I'll now taste of thy drug.

Gui.

I could not stir him:

He said he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.

Gods,

Arv. Thus did he answer me: yet said, hereafter

I might know more.

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.

Bel.

Pray, be not sick,

Well, or ill,

And shalt be ever. [Exit IMOGEN.

This youth, howe'er distress'd he appears, hath had

Good ancestors.

Arv.

How angel-like he sings!

Gui. But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in

characters;

And sauc'd our broths, as Juno had been sick
And he her dieter.

A smiling with a sigh: as if the sigh

Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly

From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.

Gui.

I do note

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

Arv.

Grow, patience! And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine

His perishing root with the increasing vine!

Bel. It is great morning. Come; away.-Who's there? Enter CLOTen.

Clo. 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; 't is
Cloten, the son o' the queen. I fear some ambush.
I saw him not these many years, and yet

I know 't is he :-We are held as outlaws:-Hence.
Gui. He is but one: You and my brother search
What companies are near: pray you, away;
Let me alone with him.
[Exeunt BEL. and ARV.
Soft! What are you

Clo.
That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers?
I have heard of such.-What slave art thou?

Gui.

A thing

Thou art a robber,

More slavish did I ne'er than answering "A slave" without a knock.

Clo.

A law-breaker, a villain: Yield thee, thief.

Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou? Have not 1 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?

Clo.

Thou villain base, Know'st me not by my clothes?

a Spurs. Pope calls this an old word for the fibres of a tree, We cannot find any authority for his assertion. The support of a post placed in the ground is still technically called a spur.

Gui.

No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

Who is thy grandfather; he made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.

Clo.

Thou precious varlet,

Hence, then, and thank

My tailor made them not.

Gui.

The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool; I am loath to beat thee.

Clo.

Thou injurious thief,

What's thy name?

Clo. Cloten, thou villain.

Gui. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, I cannot tremble at it; were 't toad, or adder, spider, 'T would move me sooner.

Clo.

To thy further fear, Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know

I'm son to the queen.

Gui.

I'm sorry for 't; not seeming

Art not afeard?

So worthy as thy birth.

Clo.

Gui. Those that I reverence those I fear; the wise: At fools I laugh, not fear them.

Clo.
Die the death:
When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
I'll follow those that even now fled hence,

And on the gates of Lud's town set your heads:
Yield, rustic mountaineer.

[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 blurr'd those lines of favour Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking, were as his: I am absolute 'T was very Cloten.

Arv.

VOL. VIII.

In this place we left them :

F