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From whose so many weights of baseness canno
A dram of worth be drawn,

Pis. Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him? When was she miss'd?
He is in Rome.

Clot. Where is she, fir ? Come nearer ;
No further 'halting : satisfy 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 silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.

Pif. Then, fir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight.

Clot. Let's see't:-I will pursue her
Even to Auguftus' throne—'Or this, or perish.
Pif. [ Afde.] 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, she's dead. 0, Imogen,

(Afide. Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again!

Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true?
Pif. Sir, as I think.

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

balting :)-huffling, prevaricating.
Or ibis, or perish.)-Give me the paper, or thou dieft.

e'er

e'er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly;--I would think thee an honest man: thou should'st neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.

Pif. Well, my good lord.

Clot. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and conftantly thou haft stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou can'st not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?

Pif. Sir, I will.

Clot. Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession?

Pis. Į have, my lord, at my lodging, the same fuit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.

Clot. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither : let it be thy first service; go. Pil. I sha!), my lord.

[Exit. Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven: - forgot to ask him one thing ; I'll remember't anon: Even there, thou 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 fuit upon my back, will I rayith her: First kill 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 luft hath dined, (which, as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that the fo prais'd) to the court I'll knock her back, foor 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 those the garments ?

Pif. Ay, my noble lord.
Clos. How long is't since she 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 shall tender itself to thee, -My revenge is now af Milford ; . Would I had wings to follow it !-Come, and be true.

[Exit. Pif. Thou bidd'ft me to my loss : for, true to thee, Were to prove false, which I will never be, To him that is moft true.-To Milford go, And find not her whom thou pursu'ft. Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings, on her ! This fool's speed Be croft with nowness; labour be his meed! [Exit.

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The Forest and Cave.,

Enter Imogen, in boy's clotbes. Imo. I fee, a man's life is a tedious one : I have cir’d myself; and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be fick, But that my resolution helps me.-Milford, When from the mountain top Pisapio shew'd thee, Thou wast within a ken: 0 Jove! I think, Foundations fly the wretched': such, I mean, Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me, I could not miss my way:. Will

poor folk lye, That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis

A punish

A punishment, or trial ? Yes: no wonder,
When rich ones scarce 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 link for food.-But what is this?
Here is a path to it: 'Tis fome savage hold:
I were beft not call; I dare not call : yer 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?
If any thing that's civil, speak; if savage,
* Take, or lend.--Ho!-No answer? then I'll enter.
Beft 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 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 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 resty noth
Finds the down pillow hard.-Now, peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'st thyself!

Guid. I am throughly weary.
Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

iany 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 assistance. v woodman,)-sportsman. w match:]-bargain.

Imo. I fee, you are angry:
Bel. What's your name?

Imo. Fidele, fir : I have a kinsman, who
Is bound for Icaly; he embark'd at Milford;

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 :

[Looking in. But that it eats our victuals, I should 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 masters, harm me not: Before I enter'd here, I call’d; and thought To have begg'd, or bought, what I have took : Good

troth, I have stolen nought; nor would not, though I had

found
Gold strewd othe floor. Here's money

for
I would have left it on the board, so soon
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.
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.

my meat ;

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