 | Cymbeline |  |
SCENE II.
The Forest and Cave.Enter Imogen in Boys Cloaths.
Imo.
I see a Man's Life is a tedious one,
I have tired 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 shew'd thee,
Thou wast within a Ken. Oh, Jove, I think
Foundations fly the wretched, such I mean,
Where they should be relieved. Two Beggars told me,
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That have Afflictions on them, yet no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true. To laspe in Fulness
Is sorer, than to lie for Need; and Falshood
Is worse in Kings, than Beggars. My dear Lord,
Thou art one o'th' 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?
[seeing the Cave.
Here is a Path to't—'tis some Savage hold;
I were best not call; I dare not call; yet Famine
Ere it clean o'er-throw Nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty and Peace breed Cowards, Hardness ever
Of Hardiness is Mother. Ho! who's here?
If any thing that's civil, speak;
No Answer? then I'll enter.
Best draw my Sword; and if mine Enemy
But fear my Sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
Such a Foe, good Heav'ns.
[She goes into the Cave.
Enter Bellarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Bel.
You Paladour have prov'd best Woodman, and
Are master of the Feast; Cadwall and I
Will play the Cook, and Servant; come, our Stomachs
Will make what's homely, savourly; Weariness
Can snore upon the Flint, when resty Sloth
Finds the Down Pillow hard. Now Peace be here,
Poor House, that keeps thyself.
Guid.
There is cold Meat i'th' 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
He were a Fairy.
Guid.
What's the matter, Sir?
Bel.
By Jupiter an Angel! or if not,
An Earthly Paragon. Behold Diveneness
No elder than a Boy.
Enter Imogen from the Cave.
Imo.
Good Master 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,
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Gold-strew'd i'th' 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 thence
With Prayers for the Provider.
Guid.
Money, 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 am fal'n 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 Chear
Ere you depart, and Thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.
Arv.
I'll love him as my Brother:
And such a Welcome as I'd give to him,
After long Absence, such is yours.
Guid.
Most welcome:
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst Friends.
Imo.
'Mongst Friends,
[Aside.
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 to thee my Posthumus.
Bel.
He wrings at some Distress.
Guid.
Would I could free it.
Arv.
Or I, what e'er it be,
What Pain it cost, what Danger.
Bel.
Hark, Boys.
[Whispering.
Imo.
Great Men.
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That did attend themselves, and had the Virtue
Which their own Conscience seal'd them; laying by
That Nothing-gift of different Multitudes
Could not out-piece these twain. Pardon me, Gods,
I'd change my Sex to be Companion with them,
Since Posthumus is false.
Bel.
It shall be so:
Boys, we'll go dress our Hunt. Fair Youth, come in;
Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we have supp'd
We'll mannerly demand thee of thy Story,
So far as thou wilt speak it.
Guid.
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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