From whofe so many weights of baseness cannot

A dram of worth be drawn,

Pif. Alas, my lord,

How can fhe be with him? When was the mifs'd?
He is in Rome.

Clot. Where is fhe, fir? Come nearer ;

I

No further halting: fatisfy me home,
What is become of her?

Pif, O, my all-worthy lord!

Clot. All-worthy villain!

Discover where thy mistress 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, fir,

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

Clot. Let's fee't:-I will purfue her

Even to Auguftus' throne-'Or this, or perish.

Pif. [Afide.] She's far enough, and what he learns by this,

May prove his travel, not her danger.

Clot. Humh!

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

Safe may'st thou wander, fafe return again!

Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pif Sir, as I think.

[Afide.

Clot. It is Pofthumus' hand; I know't.-Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true fervice; undergo those employments, wherein I fhould have cause to use thee, with a serious industry,—that is, what villainy fo

balting:]-fhuffling, prevaricating.

*Or this, or perif.]-Give me the paper, or thou diest.

e'er

1

e'er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly;-I would think thee an honeft man: thou fhould'st 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 stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Pofthumus, thou can'st 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 purse, Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy poffeffion?

Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the fame fuit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. Clot. The first fervice thou doft me, hither let it be thy firft fervice; go. Pif. I fhall, my lord.

fetch that fuit

[Exit.

I forgot to ask
Even there,

Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven: him one thing; I'll remember't anon thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.—I would, these garments were come. She said upon a time, (the bitternefs of it I now belch from my heart) that she held the very garment of Pofthumus in more refpect than my noble and natural perfon, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that fuit upon my back, will I ravish her: First kill him, and in her eyes; there shall fhe 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 knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despis'd me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

Re

Re-enter Pifanio, with the clothes.

Be thofe the garments ?

Pif. Ay, my noble lord.

Clot. How long is't fince fhe went to Milford-Haven? Pif. She can scarce be there yet.

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

[Exit. Pif. Thou bidd'ft me to my lofs: 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 purfu'ft. Flow, flow, You heavenly bleffings, on her! This fool's speed: Be croft with flowness; labour be his meed!

SCENE VI.

The Foreft and Cave..

Enter Imogen, in boy's clothes.

Imo. I fee, a man's life is a tedious one:
I have tir'd myself; and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be fick,
But that my refolution 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,

folk lye,

[Exit.

Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me,
I could not miss my way: Will poor
That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis

A punish

A punishment, or trial? Yes: no wonder,
When rich ones fcarce tell true: To lapfe in fullness
Is forer, than to lye for need; and falfhood

Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord!
Thou art one o' the falfe ones: Now I think on thee,
My hunger's gone; but even before, I was

At point to fink for food.-But what is this?
Here is a path to it: 'Tis fome favage hold:
I were beft not call; I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother.-Ho! who's here?

t

If any thing that's civil, fpeak; if favage,

"Take, or lend.-Ho!-No answer? then I'll enter. Beft draw my fword; and if mine enemy

But fear the fword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
Such a foe, good heavens !

[She goes into the cave.

Enter Belarias, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

Bel. You, Polydore, have prov'd best' woodman, and Are master of the feast: Cadwal, and I,

Will play the cook, and fervant; 'tis our match:

The sweat 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 floth
Finds the down pillow hard.-Now, peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'ft thyself!

t

Guid. I am throughly weary.

Arv. I am weak with toil, yet ftrong in appetite.

any thing that's civil,]-any human creature.

Take, or lend.]-Either take me for food, or yield me fome-take my

life, or lend me your affiftance.

match:]-bargain.

woodman,]-fportsman.

Guid. There is cold meat i' the cave; we'll brouze on

that,

Whilft what we have kill'd be cook'd.

Bel. Stay; come not in :

But that it eats our victuals, I fhould think

Here were a fairy.

Guid. What's the matter, fir?

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

[Looking in.

To have begg'd, or bought, what I have took: Good troth,

I have ftolen nought; nor would not, though I had

found

Gold ftrew'd o' the 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

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 are 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, fir: I have a kinfman, who Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford;

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