Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthurhus ?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
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.

Clo.

Where is she, sir? Come nearer;

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

Pis. O, my all-worthy lord!

Clo.

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.

She's far enough; and what he learns by this,

May prove his travel, not her danger.

Clo.

[Aside.

Humph!

Pis. I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again! [Aside. Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pis.

Sir, as I think.

Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't.-Sirrah, if thou would'st 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 villany soe'er I bid thee do, to perform it, directly and truly, I would think thee an honest man: thou shouldest neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.

Pis. Well, my good lord.

Clo. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?

Pis. Sir, I will.

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

Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither: let it be thy first service; go.

Pis. I shall, my lord.

[Exit. Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Haven :-I 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 suit upon my back, will I ravish 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

insultment ended on his dead body,-and when my lust hath dined, (which, as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that she so praised,) to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

Re-enter Pisanio, with the Clothes.

Be those the garments?

Pis. Ay, my noble lord.

Clo. How long is't since she went to Milford-Haven? Pis. She can scarce be there yet.

Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I have commanded thee; the third

is, that thou shalt be a voluntary mute to my design, Be but duteous, and true preferment shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford; 'Would I had wings to follow it !-Come, and be true. [Exit. Pis. Thou bidd'st me to my loss: 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 pursu'st. Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed Be cross'd with slowness; labour be his meed! [Exit.

SCENE VI.-Before the Cave of Belarius.

Imogen, in Boy's Clothes.

Imo. I see, a man's life is a tedious one:

Enter

I have tir'd myself; and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
But that my resolution helps me.-Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken: O 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 folks lie,
That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis
A punishment, or trial? Yes: no wonder,

When rich ones scarce tell true: To lapse in fullness
Is sorer, than to lie for need; and falsehood

Is worse in kings than beggars.-My dear lord!
Thou art one o' the false ones: Now I think on thee,
My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food.-But what is this?
Here is a path to it: 'Tis some savage hold:
I were best 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?

If any thing that's civil, speak; if savage,

Take, or lend.-Ho!-No answer? then I'll enter..

Best 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 Belarius, 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 too. me; our stomachs
Will make what's homely, savoury: Weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth

Finds the down pillow hard.-Now, peace be here,
Poor house, that keeps't thyself!

I am throughly weary. in appetite.

Gui.
Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong

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

on that,

Whilst 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.

4

Gui.

What's the matter, sir?

Bel. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,

An earthly paragon!-Behold divineness
No elder than a boy !

Imo.

Enter Imogen.

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 strew'd o'the floor. Here's money for my meat: I would have left it on the board, so soon

As I had made my meal; and parted

Vol. 6.

F

With prayers for the provider.

Gui.

'Money, youth? Arv. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt! As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those.

Who worship dirty gods.

Ims.

I see, you are angry :

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should

Have died, had I not made it.

Bel.

Imo. To Milford-Haven, sir.

Bel.

Whither bound?

What is your name?

Imo. Fidele, sir; I have a kinsman, who
Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford;
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
I am fallen 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 almost night: you shall have better cheer
Ere you depart; and thanks, to stay and eat it.-
Boys, bid him welcome.

Gui.

Were you a woman, youth,

I should woo hard, but be your groom.-In honesty

I bid for you, as I'd buy.

Arv.

I'll make't my comfort,

He is a man; I'll love him as my brother:

And such a welcome as I'd give to him,

After long absence, such is yours:-Most welcome! Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.

Imo.

'Mongst friends!

If brothers?-Would it had been so, that they
Had been my father's sons! then had my prize
Been less; and so more equal ballasting