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. Clot. 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; 'tis 110 I know 'tis he:-We are held as outlaws:-Hence. Guid. He is but one :- -You and my brother search What companies are near: pray you, away; Let me alone with him. [Exeunt BELARIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Clot. Soft! What are you That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers ? More slavish did I ne'er, than answering A slave without a knock. Clot. Thou art a robber, A law-breaker, a villain: Yield thee, thief. 120 Guid. To who? to thee? What art thou? Have not I An arm as big as thine? a heart as big? Thy words, I grant, are bigger; for I wear not My My dagger in my mouth. Say, what thou art; Clot. Thou villain base, Know'st me not by my clothes? Guid. No, nor thy tailor, rascal, Who is thy grandfather ;- he made those clothes, Which, as it seems, make thee, Clot. Thou precious varlet, My tailor made them not, Guid. Hence then, and thank 130 The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool; I am loth to beat thee. Clot. Thou injurious thief, Hear but my name, and tremble, Guid. What's thy name? Clot. Cloten, thou villain, 140 Guid. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, I cannot tremble at it; were it toad, adder, spider, 'Twould move me sooner. Clot. To thy further fear, Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know, I am son to the queen. Guid. I am sorry for't; not seeming So worthy as thy birth, Clot. Art not afeard? 150 Guid. Those that I reverence, those I fear; the wise: At fools I laugh, not fear them. Clot. Die the death: When I have slain thee with my proper hand, I'll follow those that even now fled hence, Yield, rustic mountaineer. [Fight, and exeunt. Bel. No company's abroad, Aru. None in the world: You did mistake him, sure. Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him, 160 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, 'Twas very Cloten. Ary. In this place we left them : I wish my brother make good time with him, Bel. Being scarce made up, I mean, to man, he had not apprehension Re-enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN's Head. Guid. This Cloten was a fool; an empty purse, There was no money in't: not Hercules 170 Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none : Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne i My head, as I do his. Bel. What hast thou done? Guid. I am perfect, what cut off one Cloten's head, Son Son to the queen, after his own report; Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer; and swore, 181 Displace our heads, where thank the gods, they grow, And set them on Lud's town. Bel. We are all undone. Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, But, that he swore to take, our lives? The law Protects not us; Then why should we be tender To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us? Play judge, and executioner, all himself? For we do fear the law? What company. Discover you abroad? Bel. No single soul Can we set eye on, but, in all safe reason, 190 He must have some attendants. Though his honour Cave here, hunt here, are out-laws, and in time 200 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, ATU. Aru. Let ordinance Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er, My brother hath done well, Bel. I had no mind To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness Did make my way long forth. Guid. With his own sword, 210 Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta’en And tell the fishes, he's the queen's son, Cloten : Bel. I fear, 'twill be reveng'd: [Exit. 220 'Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done't! though valour Becomes thee well enough. Arv. 'Would I had done't, So the revenge alone pursu'd 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 us through, We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger 230 Where there's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock; You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay 'Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him To dinner presently. Arv. Poor sick Fidele ! |