Guid. This Cloten was a fool; not Hercules Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none. Bel. What hast thou done? Guid. Cut off one Cloten's head, Son to the Queen, after his own report; Displace our heads, where (thank the gods!) they grow, And set them on Lud's town. Bel. We are all undone. Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, But, that he swore to take our lives? The law Protects not us; then why should we be tender, To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us; Play judge, and executioner, all himself; For we do fear the law?—What company Discover you abroad? Bel. No single soul Can we set eye on; but, in all safe reason, It is not probable he would come alone.— To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness Guid. With his own sword, Which he did wave against my throat, I've ta'en And tell the fishes, he's the Queen's son, Cloten : Bel. I fear, 'twill be reveng'd: [Exit. 'Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! though valour Becomes thee well enough. Arv. 'Would I had done't! We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him Arv. Poor sick Fidele! I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour, I'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, And praise myself for charity. [Exi , nto he Cave, Bel. O tho go dess, Thou divine nature, how thyself thou blazon'st Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough, That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop Enter Guiderius. Guid. Where's my brother? I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream, For his return. Hark, Polydore! it sounds! But what occasion Bel. He went hence even now. Guid. What does he mean? Since death of my dear'st mother, It did not speak before. All solemn things Enter Arviragus. Bel. Look, here he comes! Aro. The bird is dead, That we have made so much on. I had rather Guid. O sweetest, fairest lily! And art thou gone, my poor Fidele? Bel. What! is he dead? How found you him? Aro. Stark:—smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at: his right cheek Reposing on a cushion. Guid. Where? Arc. O' the floor; His arms thus leagu'd: I thought, he slept. Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less: for Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys; Our foe was princely; And though you took his life, as being our foe, O, melancholy! Who ever yet could sound thy bottom ?—find ah! Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy. Enter GUIDERIUS and Arviragus, from the Cave, bearing Imogen's Body. Come, let us lay the bodies each by each, And strew them o'er with flow'rs; and on the morrow Shall the earth receive them. Are. Sweet Fidele! Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Thou thy worldly task hast done, Guid. Monarchs, sages, peasants, must Follow thee, and come to dust. [Exeunt, bearing the Body. SCENE V. Cymbeline's Palace. Enter Cymbeline, Second Lord, Pisanio, and Attendants. Cym. Again; and bring me word, how the queen does. [Exit an Attendant. A fever, with the absence of her son; A madness, of which her life's in danger :—Heavens, When fearful wars point at me: Her son gone, Pisanio. Sir, my life is yours, The day that she was missing, he was here: For Cloten,— There wants no diligence in seeking him, Cym. The time is troublesome; We'll slip you for a season: but our jealousy Enter First Lord. 1 Lord. So please your majesty, The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn, Are landed on your coast. Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and queen! Let's withdraw; And meet the time, as it seeks us. We fear not [Exeunt Cymbeline, the Two Lords, and Pisanio. I heard no letter from my master, since Perplex'd in all. The Heavens still must work : [Exit. |