Imo.
I see, a man's life is a tedious one:
I've tir'd my self; 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 shew'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken.—Oh 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 tryal? yes; no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fullness
Is sorer, than to lie for need; and falshood
Is worse in Kings, than Beggars. My dear lord!
Thou'rt one o'th' false ones; now I think on thee,
My hunger's gone; but ev'n before, I was

At point to sink for food. But what is this? [Seeing the Cave.
Here is a path to't—'tis some savage Hold;
'Twere best, not call; I dare not call; yet famine,
Ere it clean o'er-throw 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.
Grant such a foe, good heav'ns! [She goes into the Cave. Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

Bel.
You, Paladour, 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 savo'ry; weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'st thy self!

Guid.
I'm throughly weary.

Arv.
I'm weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

Guid.
There is cold meat i'th' Cave, we'll brouze on That,
Whilst what, we've kill'd, be cook'd.

Bel.
Stay, come not in— [Looking in.
But that it eats our victuals, I should think,
It were a Fairy.

Guid.
What's the matter, Sir?

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
T' have begg'd, or bought, what I have took: good troth,

I have stoln nought, nor would not, though I'd found
Gold strew'd i'th' floor. Here's mony for my meat;
I would have left it on the board, so soon
As I had made my meal; and parted thence
With prayers for the provider.

Guid.
Mony, youth?

Arv.
All gold and silver rather turn to dirt!
As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty Gods.

Imo.
I see, you're 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, Sir; I have a Kinsman, who
Is bound for Italy: he embark'd at Milford;
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
I'm faln in this offence.

Bel.
Prythee, 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.

Guid.
Were you a woman, youth,
I should wooe hard, but be your groom in honesty;
I bid for you, as I do 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.
(37) ^note




'Mongst friends,
If brothers;—Would it had been so, that they aside.
Had been my father's sons! then had my prize aside.
Been less, and so more equal ballasting aside.

To thee, Posthumus.

Bel.
He wrings at some distress.

Guid.
Would I could free't!

Arv.
Or I, whate'er it be,
What pain it cost, what danger, Gods!

Bel.
Hark, boys. [Whispering.

Imo.
Great men,
That had a Court no bigger than this Cave,
That did attend themselves, and had the virtue
Which their own conscience seal'd them; (38) ^note

Bel.
It shall be so:
Boys, we'll go dress our Hunt. Fair youth, come in;

Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we've supp'd,
We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story,
So far as thou wilt speak.

Guid.
I pray, draw near.

Arv.
The night to th' owl, and morn to th' lark, less welcome!

Imo.
Thanks, Sir.

Arv.
I pray, draw near. [Exeunt.

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