Pif. Oh, all-worthy lord!

Clot. All-worthy villain!

Discover where thy miftrefs is, at once,
At the next word; no more of worthy lord.
Speak, or thy filence on the inftant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.
Pif. Then, Sir,

This paper is the hiftory of my knowledge
Touching her flight.

Clot. Let's fee't; I will purfue her

Ev'n to Auguftus' throne.

Pif. Or this, or perish.

She's far enough; and what he learns by this, Afide. May prove his travel, not her danger.

Clot. Humph.

Pif. I'll write to my lord, fhe's dead. Oh,

Imogen,

Safe may't thou wander, fafe return again!
Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pif. Sir, as I think.

Clot. It is Pofthumus's hand, I know't.

}

Afide.

Sirrah, if

thou would'st not be a villain, but do me true service; undergo thofe employments, wherein I fhould have caufe to ufe thee, with a ferious induftry; that is, what villany foe'er 1 bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly, I would think thee an honeft man; thou fhouldft neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.

Pif. Well, my good lord.

Clot. Wilt thou ferve me? for fince patiently and conftantly thou haft fluck to the bare fortune of that beggar Pofthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt

thou ferve me?

Pif. Sir, I will.

Clot. Give me thy hand, here's my purfe. Haft any of thy late mafter's garments in thy poffeffion? Pif. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the fame fuit

he

he wore when he took leave of my lady and miftrefs.

Clot. The firft fervice thou doft me, fetch that fuit hither; let it be thy firft fervice, go. Pif. I fhall, my lord.

[Exit. Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven?— (I forgot to afk him one thing, I'll remember't anon ;) even there, thou villain Pofthumus, will I kill thee. I would, these garments were come. She faid upon a time, (the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart,) that fhe held the very garment of Pofthumus in more respect than my noble and natural perfon, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that fuit upon my back will I ravifh her; first kill him, and in her eyes (there fhall the fee my valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt.) He on the ground, my fpeech of infultment ended on his dead body;— and when my luft hath dined, (which, as I fay, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that the fo prais'd) to the court I'll kick her back, foot her home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

Enter Pisanio, with a fuit of clothes.

Be thofe the garments?

Pif. Ay, my noble Lord.

Clot. How long is't fince fhe went to MilfordHaven?

Pif. She can scarce be there yet.

Clot. Bring this apparel to my chamber, that is the fecond thing that I have commanded thee. The third is, that thou wilt be a voluntary Mute to my defign. Be but duteous, and true preferment fhall tender itfelf to thee. My revenge is now at Milford, 'would I had wings to follow it! come and be true. [Exit. Pif. Thou bidd'it me to my lofs: for true to thee, Were to prove falfe, which I will never be,

Το

To him that is moft true. To Milford go,
And find not her, whom thou purfu'ft. Flow, flow,
You heav'nly Bleffings on her! this fool's speed
Be croft with flowness; labour be his meed! [Exit.
SCENE VII.

Changes to the Forest and Cave.

Enter Imogen, in boy's clothes.

Imo. See, a man's life is a tedious one;

I've tir'd myfelf; and for two nights together

Have made the ground my bed.

I fhould be fick,

But that my resolution helps me. Milford,

When from the mountain top Pifanio fhew'd thee, Thou waft within a ken.-O Jove, I think, Foundations fly the wretched; fuch, I mean, Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me,

I could not mifs my way.

Will poor folks lie,

That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis

A punishment, or trial? yes; no wonder,

When rich ones fcarce tell true. To lapfe in fulness Is forer, than to lie for need; and falfhood

Is worse in Kings, than Beggars. My dear lord! Thou'rt one o' th' falfe ones; now I think on thee, My hunger's gone; but ev'n before, I was

At point to fink for food.

But what is this?

[Seeing the Cave. Here is a path to't 'tis fome favage hold; 'Twere beft, not call; I dare not call; yet famine, Ere it clean o'er-throw nature, makes it valiant. Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever Of hardinefs is mother. Ho who's here? If any thing that's civil, fpeak; if savage, Take 'or 't end-ho! no answer? then I'll enter. Beft draw my fword; and if mine enemy

But fear the fword like me, he'll fcarcely look on't. Grant fuch a foe, good heav'ns!

[She goes into the Cave.

Enter

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

Bel. You, Paladour, have prov'd beft woodman, and Are mafter of the feaft; Cadwall and I

Will play the cook, and fervant; 'tis our match:
The fweat of induftry would dry, and die,

But for the end it works to. Come, our ftomachs
Will make what's homely favoury; weariness
Can fnore upon the flint, when refty sloth

Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'ft thyfelf!

Guid. I'm thoroughly weary.

Aru. I'm weak with toil, yet ftrong in appetite. Guid. There is cold meat i' th' cave, we'll brouze on that,

Whilft what, we've kill'd, be cook'd.

Bel. Stay, come not in

[Looking in.

But that it eats our victuals, I fhould think,

It were a Fairy.

Guid. What's the matter, Sir?

Bel. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not, An earthly Paragon. Behold divineness No elder than a boy.

Enter Imogen.

Imo. Good mafters harm me not;

Before I enter'd here, I call'd; and thought

T' have begg'd, or bought, what I have took: good troth,

I have ftoll'n nought, nor would not, though I'd found
Gold ftrew'd i' th' floor. Here's money for my meat;
I would have left it on the board, fo foon

As I had made my meal; and parted thence
With prayers for the provider.

Guid. Money, youth?

Arv. All gold and filver rather turn to dirt!
As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty Gods.

Imo. I fee, you're angry:

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have dy'd, had I not made it.
Bel. Whither bound?
Imo. To Milford-Haven.

Bel. What's your name?

Imo. Fidele, Sir; I have a kinfman, who Is bound for Italy: he embark'd at Milford; To whom being going, almoft spent with hunger, I'm fall'n in this offence.

Bel. Pr'ythee. fair youth,

Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
By this rude place we live in.

Well encounter'd!

'Tis almoft night, you fhall have better cheer Ere you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome.

Guid. Were you a woman, youth,

I fhould woo hard, but be your groom in honesty; I bid for you, as I do buy.

Aru. I'll make't my comfort,

He is a man: I'll love him as my brother:
And fuch a welcome as I'd give to him,

After long abfence, fuch is yours. Moft welcome!
Be fprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.

Imo. Mongft friends,

If brothers;-'Would it had been so, that they
Had been my father's fons! then had my price Afide.
Been lefs, and fo more equal ballancing

To thee, Pofthumus.

Bel. He wrings at some distress.

Guid. 'Would I could free't!

Arv. Or I, whate'er it be,

What pain it coft, what danger, Gods!

Bel. Hark, boys.

Imo. Great men,

[Whispering.

That had a court no bigger than this cave,

That did attend themfelves, and had the virtue

Which their own confcience feal'd them; laying by

That