Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clotten alone.

Clot I am neere to'th' place where they should meet, if Pisanio haue mapp'd it truely. How fit his Garments serue me? Why should his Mistris who was made by him that made the Taylor, not be fit too? The rather (sauing reuerence of the Word) for 'tis saide a Womans fitnesse comes by fits: therein I must play the Workman, I dare speake it to my selfe, for it is not Vainglorie for a man, and his Glasse, to confer in his owne Chamber; I meane, the Lines of my body are as well drawne as his; no lesse young, more strong, not beneath him in Fortunes, beyond him in the aduantage of the time, aboue him in Birth, alike conuersant in generall seruices, and more remarkeable in single oppositions; yet this imperseuerant Thing loues him in my despight. What Mortalitie is? Posthumus, thy head (which now is growing vppon thy shoulders) shall within this houre be off, thy Mistris inforced, thy Garments cut to peeces before thy face: and all this done, spurne her home to her Father, who may (happily) be a little angry for my so rough vsage: but my Mother hauing power of his testinesse, shall turne all into my commendations. My Horse is tyed vp safe, out Sword, and to a sore purpose: Fortune put them into my hand: This is the very description of their meeting place and the Fellow dares not deceiue me. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, and Imogen from the Caue.

Bel. You are not well: Remaine heere in the Caue, Wee'l come to you after Hunting

Arui. Brother, stay heere: Are we not Brothers? Imo. So man and man should be, But Clay and Clay, differs in dignitie, Whose dust is both alike. I am very sicke, Gui. Go you to Hunting, Ile abide with him

Imo. So sicke I am not, yet I am not well: But not so Citizen a wanton, as To seeme to dye, ere sicke: So please you, leaue me, Sticke to your Iournall course: the breach of Custome, Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me Cannot amend me. Society, is no comfort To one not sociable: I am not very sicke, Since I can reason of it: pray you trust me heere, Ile rob none but my selfe, and let me dye Stealing so poorely

Gui. I loue thee: I haue spoke it, How much the quantity, the waight as much, As I do loue my Father

Bel. What? How? how? Arui. If it be sinne to say so (Sir) I yoake mee In my good Brothers fault: I know not why I loue this youth, and I haue heard you say, Loue's reason's, without reason. The Beere at doore, And a demand who is't shall dye, I'ld say My Father, not this youth

Bel. Oh noble straine! O worthinesse of Nature, breed of Greatnesse! ``Cowards father Cowards, & Base things Syre Bace; ``Nature hath Meale, and Bran; Contempt, and Grace. I'me not their Father, yet who this should bee, Doth myracle it selfe, lou'd before mee. 'Tis the ninth houre o'th' Morne

Arui. Brother, farewell

Imo. I wish ye sport

Arui. You health. - So please you Sir

Imo. These are kinde Creatures. Gods, what lyes I haue heard: Our Courtiers say, all's sauage, but at Court; Experience, oh thou disproou'st Report. Th' emperious Seas breeds Monsters; for the Dish, Poore Tributary Riuers, as sweet Fish: I am sicke still, heart-sicke; Pisanio, Ile now taste of thy Drugge

Gui. I could not stirre him: He said he was gentle, but vnfortunate; Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest

Arui. Thus did he answer me: yet said heereafter, I might know more

Bel. To'th' Field, to'th' Field: Wee'l leaue you for this time, go in, and rest

Arui. Wee'l not be long away

Bel. Pray be not sicke, For you must be our Huswife

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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