To come alone, either he fo undertaking, Or they fo fuffering: then on good ground we fear, More perilous than the head. ARV. Let ordinance Come as the gods forefay it: howsoe'er, BEL. I had no mind To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness GUI. With his own fword, Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta’en And tell the fishes, he's the queen's fon, Cloten : BEL. I fear 'twill be reveng'd: [Exit. 'Would, Polydore thou hadst 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 haft robb'd me of this deed: I would, revenges, That poffible ftrength might meet, would feek us through, And put us to our answer. BEL. Well, 'tis done : We'll hunt no more to-day, nor feek for danger Till hafty Polydore return, and bring him ARV. Poor fick Fidele! I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour, I'd let a parish of fuch Clotens blood, BEL. O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop Re-enter GUIDERIUS. GUI. Where's my brother? I have fent Cloten's clotpoll down the ftream, In embassy to his mother; his body's hoftage BEL. My ingenious instrument! [Exit. [Solemn mufick. Hark, Polydore, it founds! But what occafion Hath Cadwal now to give it motion! Hark! GUI. Is he at home? BEL. He went hence even now. [mother GUI. What does he mean? fince death of my dear'ft It did not speak before. All folemn things Should answer folemn accidents. The matter? Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys, 'Re-enter AR VIRAGUS, bearing IMOGEN as dead, in his arms. BEL. Look, here he comes, And brings the dire occafion in his arms, ARV. The bird is dead, That we have made fo much on. I had rather GUI. O fweetest, fairest lily! My brother wears thee not the one half fo well, BEL. O, melancholy ! Who ever yet could found thy bottom? find ARV. Stark, as you fee: Thus fmiling, as fome fly had tickled flumber, Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at: his right cheek Repofing on a cushion. GUI. Where? ARV. O'the floor; His arms thus leagu'd: I thought, he flept; and put My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness Anfwer'd my steps too loud. GUI. Why, he but fleeps: 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. ARV. With faireft flowers, Whilft fummer lafts, and I live here, Fidele, Gui. Pr'ythee, have done; And do not play in wench-like words with that And not protract with admiration what And let us, Polydore, though now our voices the mannish crack, fing him to the ground, As once our mother; ufe like note, and words, Save that Euriphile must be Fidele. GUI. Cadwal, I cannot fing: I'll weep, and word it with thee : Than priests and fanes that lie. ARV. We'll speak it then. BEL. Great griefs, I fee, medicine the lefs: for Cloten Is quite forgot. He was a queen's fon, boys; And, though he came our enemy, remember, He was paid for that: Though mean and mighty, rotting Together, have one duft; 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, Therfites' body is as good as Ajax, When neither are alive. ARV. If you'll go fetch him, We'll fay our fong the whilft.-Brother, begin. [Exit BELARIUS. GUI. Nay, Cadwal, we muft lay his head to the eaft; My father hath a reason for't, ART. 'Tis true. GUI. Come on then, and remove him, ARV. So, Begin. SONG. GUI. Fear no more the heat o'the fun, Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task haft done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all muft, As chimney-fweepers, come to duft. ARV. Fear no more the frown o'the great, Thou art paft the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe, and eat ; GUI. Fear no more the lightning-flash, |