Bel. What hast thou done? Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Clotens head, Sonne to the Queene (after his owne report) Who call'd me Traitor, Mountaineer, and swore With his owne single hand heel'd take vs in, Displace our heads, where (thanks the Gods) they grow And set them on Luds-Towne

Bel. We are all vndone

Gui. Why, worthy Father, what haue we to loose, But that he swore to take our Liues? the Law Protects not vs, then why should we be tender, To let an arrogant peece of flesh threat vs? Play Iudge, and Executioner, all himselfe? For we do feare the Law. What company Discouer you abroad? Bel. No single soule Can we set eye on: but in all safe reason He must haue some Attendants. Though his Honor Was nothing but mutation, I, and that From one bad thing to worse: Not Frenzie, Not absolute madnesse could so farre haue rau'd To bring him heere alone: although perhaps It may be heard at Court, that such as wee Caue heere, hunt heere, are Out-lawes, and in time May make some stronger head, the which he hearing, (As it is like him) might breake out, and sweare Heel'd fetch vs in, yet is't not probable To come alone, either he so vndertaking, Or they so suffering: then on good ground we feare, If we do feare this Body hath a taile More perillous then the head

Arui. Let Ord'nance Come as the Gods fore-say it: howsoere, My Brother hath done well

Bel. I had no minde To hunt this day: The Boy Fideles sickenesse Did make my way long forth

Gui. With his owne Sword, Which he did waue against my throat, I haue tane His head from him: Ile throw't into the Creeke Behinde our Rocke, and let it to the Sea, And tell the Fishes, hee's the Queenes Sonne, Cloten, That's all I reake. Enter.

Bel. I feare 'twill be reueng'd: Would (Polidore) thou had'st not done't: though valour Becomes thee well enough

Arui. Would I had done't: So the Reuenge alone pursu'de me: Polidore I loue thee brotherly, but enuy much Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would Reuenges That possible strength might meet, wold seek vs through And put vs to our answer

Bel. Well, 'tis done: Wee'l hunt no more to day, nor seeke for danger Where there's no profit. I prythee to our Rocke, You and Fidele play the Cookes: Ile stay Till hasty Polidore returne, and bring him To dinner presently

Arui. Poore sicke Fidele. Ile willingly to him, to gaine his colour, Il'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, And praise my selfe for charity. Enter.

Bel. Oh thou Goddesse, Thou diuine Nature; thou thy selfe thou blazon'st In these two Princely Boyes: they are as gentle As Zephires blowing below the Violet, Not wagging his sweet head; and yet, as rough (Their Royall blood enchaf'd) as the rud'st winde, That by the top doth take the Mountaine Pine, And make him stoope to th' Vale. 'Tis wonder That an inuisible instinct should frame them To Royalty vnlearn'd, Honor vntaught, Ciuility not seene from other: valour That wildely growes in them, but yeelds a crop As if it had beene sow'd: yet still it's strange What Clotens being heere to vs portends, Or what his death will bring vs. Enter Guidereus.

Gui. Where's my Brother? I haue sent Clotens Clot-pole downe the streame, In Embassie to his Mother; his Bodie's hostage For his returne.

Solemn Musick.

Bel. My ingenuous Instrument, (Hearke Polidore) it sounds: but what occasion Hath Cadwal now to giue it motion? Hearke

Gui. Is he at home? Bel. He went hence euen now

Gui. What does he meane? Since death of my deer'st Mother It did not speake before. All solemne things Should answer solemne Accidents. The matter? Triumphes for nothing, and lamenting Toyes, Is iollity for Apes, and greefe for Boyes. Is Cadwall mad? Enter Aruiragus, with Imogen dead, bearing her in his Armes.

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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