À pidency• so rosy, the sweet view on't
Hight well have warn'd old Saturn; that I thought

her.

As chaste as unsann'd snow:-0, all the devils!-
This yellow Iachimo, in an hour,-was't not ?--
Or less, at first: perchance he spoke not; but,
Lise a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
Cred, oh! and mounted: found no opposition
But what he look'd for should oppose, and she
Sonid from encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm

It is the woman's part: be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Ace longings, slanders, mutability,

All faults that may be named, nay that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all:
For ev'n to vice

They are not constant, but are changing still
One vice, but of a minute old, for one

Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them:-Yet 'tis greater skill
la a trae hate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better. [Exit.

Shall be so ever.

Clo. There be many Cæsars,

Ere such another Julius. Britain is

A world by itself; and we will nothing pay, For wearing our own noses.

Queen. That opportunity,

Which then they had to take from us, to resume
We have again.-Remember, Sir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors; together with
The natural bravery of your isle; which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and påled in
With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters;
With sands, that will not bear your enemies' boats,
But suck them up to the top-mast. A kind of con.
quest

Crear made here; but made not here his brag,
Of came,
and sate, and overcome: with shame
The first that ever touch'd him), he was carried
From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping
(Poor ignorant baubles!) on our terrible seas,
Lake egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd
As easily 'gainst our rocks: for joy whereof,
The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point
(0, giglot + fortune !) to master Cæsar's sword,
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright,
And Britons strut with courage.

Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more such Casais: other of then may have crooked noses; but, to owe such straight armis, none.

Cym. Son, let your mother end.

This tribute from us, we were free: Cæsar's ambi tion

(Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch
The sides of the world), against all colour, here
Dil put the yoke upon us; which to shake off,
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves to be. We do say then to Cæsar,
Our ancestor was that Mulutios, which
Ordain'd our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar
Hath too much mangled; whose repair, and fran-
chise,

Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry;) Mulmutius,
Who was the first of Britain, which did put
His brows within a golden crown, and call'd
Himself a king.

Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline,

That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar
(Cesar, that hath more kings his servants, than
Thyself domestic officers), thine enemy:
Receive it from me, then :-War, and confusion,
In Cæsar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look
For fury not to be resisted ;-Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.

Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius.

Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent
Much under him; of him I gather'd honour;
Which he, to seek of me again, perforce,
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for
Behoves me keep at utterance; I am perfectt,
Their liberties, are now in arms: a precedent
Which not to read, would shew the Britons cold:
So Cæsar shall not find them.

Luc. Let proof speak.

Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day, or two, longer: if you seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find us in our salt-water girdle: if yon Leat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall Tare the Letter for you; and there's an end. Luc. So, Sir.

Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he

mine:

Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you not
What monster's her accuser-Leonatus!
O, master! what a strange infection

Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian
(As poisonous-tongued, as handed), hath prevail'd
On thy too ready hearing?-Disloyal? No:
She's punish'd for her truth; and undergoes,
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
As would take in‡ some virtue.-0, my master!
Thy mind to her is now as low, as were
Thy fortunes.-How! that I should murder her?
Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I
Have made to thy command ?-I, her?-her blood?
If it be so to do good service, never
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity,

So much as this fact comes to? Do't: the Letter
[Reading.

That I have sent her, by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity;-0 damn'd paper!
Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble,
Art thou a feodary for this act, and look'st
So virgin like without? Lo, here she comes.

Enter IMOGEN.

I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
Imo. How now, Pisanio?

Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who? thy lord? that is my lord? Leonatus?
O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer,
That knew the stars, as I his characters;
He'd lay the future open.-You good gods,
Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
Of my jord's health, of his content,-yet not,
That we two are asunder, let that grieve him,-
(Some griefs are med'emable;) that is one of them,
For it doth physic love;-of his content,
All but in that!-Good wax, thy leave:-Bless'd be

Cym. You must know,

Till the injurious Romans did extort

And men in dangerous bonds, pray not alike;

At the extremity of defiance. Well informed.
To take in a town, is to conquer it.

§ Confederate.

Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet You clasp young Cupid's tables.-Good news, gods! [Reads. Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures, would not even renew me with your eyes. Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven. What your own love will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increasing in love,

LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.

O, for a horse with wings!-Hear'st thou, Pisanio?
He is at Milford Haven: read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day?-Then, true Pisanio,
(Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,-
O, let me 'bate,-but not like me: yet long'st,-
But in a fainter kind :-0, not like me;

For mine's beyond beyond), say, and speak thick *,
(Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sense), how far it is
To this same blessed Milford: and, by the way,
Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
To inherit such a haven: but, first of all,
How we may steal from hence; and, for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence-going,
And our return, to excuse :-But first, how get
hence:

Why should excuse be born or e'er begot?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?

Pis. One score, 'twixt sun and sun,
Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man,
Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding

wagers,

Where horses have been nimbler than the sands That run i' the clock's behalf :-But this is foolery :Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say,

She'll home to her father: and provide me, presently,

A riding suit; no costlier than would fit
A franklin's+ housewife.

Pis. Madam, you're best consider.

Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them, That I cannot look through. Away, I pr'ythee; Do as I bid thee: there's no more to say; Accessible is none but Milford way.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-Wales.-A mountainous Country, with a Cave.

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys: this gate

Instructs you how to adore the heavens; and bows you

To morning's holy office: the gates of monarchs
Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet through,
And keep their impious turbands on, without
Good morrow to the sun.-Hail, thou fair heaven!
We house i' the rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.

Gul. Hail, heaven! Are. Hail, heaven!

Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: up to you hill, Your legs are young; I'll tread these fials. Consider,

When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place, which lessens, and sets off.
And you may then revolve what tales I have told

you,

Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd: to apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see:
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a sater hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler, than attending for a check;
Richer, than doing nothing for a babe;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid for silk:

Crowd one word on another, as fast as possible.
A freeholder's.
* Strut, walk proudly,

Scaly-winged.

Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no lite to ours⚫.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak : we, poor un-
fledged,

not

Have never wing'd from view o' the nest; nor know
What air's from home. Haply, this life is best,
If quiet life be best; sweeter to you,
That have a sharper known; well corresponding
With your stiff age; but, unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling abed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit t.

Arv. What should we speak of,
When we are old as you? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing:
We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey;
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat:
Our valour is, to chace what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison bird,
And sing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you speak!

Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly: the art o' the court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery, that
The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger

I' the name of fame, and honour; which dies i' the search;

And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
Must court'sey at the censure:-0, boys, this story
The world may read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman swords: and my report was once
First with the best of note: Cymbeline loved me;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night,
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.

Gui. Uncertain favour!

This is not hunter's language:-He, that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o' the feast;
To him the other two shall minister;
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the val-
leys.
[Exeunt Gui, and Arv.
How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature!
These boys know little, they are sons to the king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think, they are mine: and, though train'd up

thus meanly

I' the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In simple and low things to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,-
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
The king his father call'd Guiderius,-Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story: say,-Thus mine enemy fell;
And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in pos-

ture

That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal, (Once, Arviragus), in as like a figure,

Strikes life into my speech, and shews much more His own conceiving. Hark! the game is roused !O Cymbeline! heaven, and my conscience, knows, Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon,

At three, and two years old, I stole these babes;

i. e. Compared with onrs. † 10 overpass Ins bound.

Thinking to bar thee of succession, as

Then refu'st me of my lands. Euriphile,

Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men;
Goodly, and gallant, shall be false and perjured,

And every day do honour to her grave:
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
They take for natural father. The game is up.

SCENE IV.-Near Milford-Haven.

Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.

[Exit.

Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place

Was near at hand :-Ne'er long'd my mother so To see me first, as I have now :-Pisanio! Man! Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind,

That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh

Do thou thy master's bidding: when thou see'st him,

A little witness my obedience: Look!

I draw the sword myself: take it; and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart:
Fear not; 'tis empty of all things, but grief:
Thy master is not there; who was, indeed,
The riches of it: do his bidding; strike.
Thou may'st be valiant in a better cause;
But now thou seem'st a coward.

Pis. Hence, vile instrument!
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
Imo. Why, I must die;

And if I do not by thy hand, thou art

No servant of thy master's: against self-slaughter There is a prohibition so divine,

heart;

But keep that countenance still.-My husband's hand!

That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he's at some hard point.-Speak, man; thy
tongue

May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.

Pis. Please you, read;

And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdain'd of fortune.

Imo. [Reads.] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises; from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain as I expect my revenge. That part, thou, Pisanio, must act for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take away her life: I shall give the opportunities at Milford-Haven: she hath my letter for the purpose: where, if thou fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art the pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal.

Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword? the paper

Hath cut her throat already.-No, 'tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue

Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.-What cheer, madam?
Imo. False to his bed! What is it, to be false?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge
nature,

To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myself awake? that's false to his bed?
Is it?

Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion;
And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
I must be ripp'd :-To pieces with me!-0,
Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy; not born, where't grows;
But worn, a bait for ladies.

Pis. Good madam, hear me.

Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, ing

Were, in his time, thought false : and Simon's weep

Did scandal many a holy tear; took pity

From most true wretchedness: so, thou, Posthú

mus,

•For behaviour.

Putta, in Italian, signifies both a jay and a whore. + Likeness.

Something's afore't :-Soft, soft; we'll no defence;
Obedient as the scabbard.-What is here?
The scripturest of the loyal Leonatus,
All turn'd to heresy? Away, away,

Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more

Be stomachers to my heart! Thus may poor fools Believe false teachers: though those that are be tray'd

Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.

And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself,
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest‡ on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me.-Pr'ythee, despatch:
The lamb entreats the butcher: where's thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too.

Pis. O gracious lady,

Since I received command to do this business, have not slept one wink.

I

Imo. Do't, and to bed then.

Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
Imo. Wherefore then

Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
So many miles, with a pretence? This place?
Mine action, and thine own? Our horses' labour?
The time inviting thee? The perturbed court,
For my being absent; whereunto I never
Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far,
To be unbent, when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
The elected deer before thee?

Pis. But to win time

To lose so bad employment: in the which
I have consider'd of a course; good lady
Hear me with patience.

Imo. Talk thy tongue weary; speak:

I have heard, I am a strumpet; and mine ear,
Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.
Pis. Then, madam,

I thought you would not back again.
Imo. Most like;

Bringing me here to kill me.

Pis. Not so, neither:

But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be,
But that my master is abused:

Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursed injury.
Imo. Some Roman courtezan.

Pis. 1 ami most glad

You think of other place. The embassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow: now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is; and but disguise
That, which, to appear itself, must not yet be,
But by self-danger; you should tread a course
Pretty, and full of view: yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus: so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.

Imo. O, for such means!

Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, I would adventure.

Pis. Well then, here's the point : You must forget to be a woman; change Command into obedience; fear, and niceness, (The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, Woman its pretty self), to a waggish courage; Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrellous as the weasel: nay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart! Alack, no remedy !) to the greedy touch Of common-kissing Titan; and forget Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein You made great Juno angry.

Imo. Nay, be brief:

I see into thy end, and am almost

A man already.

Pis. First, make yourself but like one. Fore-thinking this, I have already fit,

(Tis in my cloak-bag), doublet, hat, hose, all That answer to them: would you, in their serving, And with what imitation you can horrow From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius Present yourself, desire his service, tell him Wherein you are happy † (which you'll make him know,

If that his head have ear in music), doubtless With joy he will embrace you; for he's honour. able,

And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad
You have me 1, rich; and I will never fail
Beginning, nor supplyment.

Imo. Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away:
There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
All that good time will give us this attempt
l'in soldier to 6, and will abide it with

A prince's courage Away, i pr'ythee.

Pis. Well, mudam, we inust take a short fare. well:

Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of

Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box; I had it from the queen;
What's in't is precious; if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper.-To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood:-May the gods
Direct you to the best!

Imo. Amen: I thank thee.

[Excunt.

That we have given him cause.
Clo. 'Tis all the better;

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor
How it goes here. It fits us therefore, ripely,
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness:
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he

moves

His war for Britain.

Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business;

But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly.
Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus,
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day: she looks us like

A thing more made of malice, than of duty:
We have noted it.-Call her before us; for
We have been too slight in sufferance.

[Exit an Attendant.

Queen. Royal Sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. 'Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her: she's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.

Re-enter an ATTENDANT.
Cym. Where is she, Sir? How
Can her contempt be answer'd ?
Atten. Please you, Sir,

Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no an

Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that, which I fear, Prove false !

[Exit.

Queen. Son, I say, follow the king. Clo. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant, I have not seen these two days. Queen. Go, look after.—

[Exit Cloten. Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!He hath a drug of mine: I pray, his absence Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes It is a thing most precious. But for her, Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized her:

Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown
To her desired Posthumus: gone she is,
To death, or to dishonour; and my end
Can make good use of either; she being down,

I have the placing of the British crown.

Re-enter CLOTEN.

How now, my son ?

Clo. 'Tis certain, she is fed:

Go in, and cheer the king; he rages; none
Dare come about him.

Queen. All the better: may

This night forestall him of the coming day!
Exit Queen.

Clo. I love, and hate her: for she's fair and 10уar;

And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Tran lady, ladies, wotnan; from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Otsells them all: I love her therefore; but,
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on

The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgment,
Tial what's else rare, is choked; and, in that point,
will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be revenged upon her. For, when fools
Enten PISANI0.

Shall-Who is here? What! are you packing, sir

rah?

mistress.

Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch that sait hither: let it be thy first service; go. Pis. I shall, my lord.

[Exit. Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Haven :-I forgot to ask him one thing; Pil remember't anon:-Even there, thon villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.-I would these garments were come. She said upon a time (the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart), that she held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural person, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that suit upon my back, will I ravish her first kili him, and in her eyes; there shall she see my valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath dined (which, as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that she so praised), to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despised rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge. Than any lady, than all ladies, than all wo

me

mankind.

Pis. She can scarce be there yet.

Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I have commanded thee: the third is, that thou shalt be a voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall tender itself to thee.-My revenge is now at Milford; 'would I had wings to follow it! -Come, and be true. [Exit.

Pis. Thou bidd'st me to my loss: for true to thee, Were to prove false, which I will never be, To him that is most true.-To Milford go, And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed Be cross'd with slowness; labour be his meed!

[Exit.

SCENE VI.—Before the Cave of Belarius.

Enter IMOGEN, in Boy's Clothes.

Imo. I see, a man's life is a tedious one:

I have tired myself; and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
But that my resolution helps me.-Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio shew'd thee,
Thon wast within a ken: O Jove! I think,
Foundations fly the wretched: such, I mean,
Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told

me,

I could not miss my way: will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis
A punishment or trial? Yes; no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true: to lapse in ful-

ness

Is sorer, than to lie for need; and falsehood
Is worse in kings, than beggars.-My dear lord!
Thou art one o' the false ones: Now I think on
thee,

My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food.-But what is this?
Here is a path to it: 'tis some savage hold:
I were best not call; I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardiness ever
Of hardiness is mother.-Ho! who's here ?
If any thing that's civil, speak; if savage, ·
Take, or lend.-Ho!-No answer? then I'll enter.
Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look

on't.

Such a foe, good heavens! [She goes into the Cave. Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Bel. You, Polydore, have proved best wood

man, and

Are master of the feast: Cadwal, and I,
Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match †:
The sweat of industry would dry, and die,
But for the end it works to. Come; our stomachs
Will make what's homely, savoury; weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard.-Now, peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'st thyself!

Gui. I am throughly weary,

Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. Gui. There is cold meat i' the cave; we'll browze on that,

Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.
Bel. Stay; come not in:

[Looking in. But that it eats our victuals, I should think Here were a fairy.

Gui. What's the matter, Sir?
Bel. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy!