Bel. Being scarce made up,

I mean, to man, he had not apprehenfion
Of roaring terrors; for th' effect of judgment
Is oft the cause of fear. But fee, thy brother.

Enter Guiderius, with Cloten's Head.

Guid. This Cloten was a fool; an empty purfe, There was no money in 't; not Hercules

Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none. Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne

My head, as I do his.

Bel. What haft thou done?

Guid. I'm perfect, what; cut off one Cloten's head,

Son to the Queen, after his own report;

Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
With his own fingle hand he'd take us in;

Difplace our heads, where, thanks ye Gods, they grow, And fet them on Lud's town.

Bel. We're all undone !

Guid. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose But what 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 fingle foul

Can we fet eye on; but, in all fafe reason,
He must have fome attendants.

Though his humour.
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that
From one bad thing to worfe; not Frenzy,
Not abfolute madnefs, could fo far have rav'd,
To bring him here alone; although, perhaps,
It may be heard at court, that fuch as we
Cave here, hunt here, are Out-laws, and in time
May make fome ftronger head: the which he hearing,
As it is like him, might break out, and fwear,
He'd fetch us in; yet is 't not probable

5-take us in;] To take in, was the phrafe in ufe for to apprebend an out-law, or, to make him amenable to publick justice.

-Though his honour Was nothing but mutation, &c.] What has his honour to do here, in his being changeable in this fort? in his acting as a madman, or not? I have ventur'd to fubftitute humour, against the authority of the printed copies: and the meaning feems plainly this. "Though he was always fickle "to the laft degree, and go"vern'd by humour, not found * sense; yet not madness itfelf

To come alone, nor he fo undertaking,

Nor they fo fuffering; then on good ground we fear;
If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.

Arv. Let ordinance

Come, as the Gods foresay it; how foe'er,
My brother hath done well.

Bel. I had no mind

To hunt this day; the boy Fidele's fickness
Did make my way long forth.

Guid. With his own fword,

Which he did wave against my throat, I've ta'en
His head from him: I'll throw 't into the creek
Behind our rock, and let it to the fea,

And tell the fishes, he's the Queen's fon, Cloten.
That's all I reck.

Bel. I fear, 'twill be reveng'd.

[Exit:

'Would, Paladour, thou hadst not done 't! though valour

Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. 'Would I had done 't,

So the revenge alone purfu'd me! Paladour,

I love thee brotherly, but envy much,

Thou'ft robb'd me of this deed; I would, revenges

That poffible strength might meet would feek us thro',

And put us to our answer.

Bel. Well, 'tis done:

We'll hunt no more to-day, nor feek for danger
Where there's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock.
You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay

'Till hafty Paladeur return, and bring him
To dinner prefently.

Arv. Poor fick Fidele!

I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour,

7 Did make my way long forth.] Fidele's fickness made my walk forth from the cave tedious.

revenges

That poffible ftrength might meet] Such purfuit of vengeance as fell within any poffibility of oppofition.

I'd let a parish of fuch Clotens blood,

And praise myself for charity.

Bel. O thou Goddess,

Thou divine Nature, how thyfelf thou blazon'st
In these two princely boys! they are as gentle,
As Zephyrs blowing below the violet,

[Exit.

Not wagging his fweet head; and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchaf'd, as th' rudeft wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonderful.
That an invifible inftinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd, honour untaught,
Civility not feen from other, valour

That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been fow'd. Yet ftill it's ftrange
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us.

Re-enter Guiderius.

Guid. Where's my brother?

I have fent Cloten's clot-pole down the stream,
In embaffy to his mother. His body's hoftage

For his return.

Bel. My ingenious inftrument!

[Solemn mufick.

Hark, Paladour! it founds: but what occafion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? hark!

Guid. Is he at home?

Bel. He went hence even now.

Guid. What does he mean? Since death of my dear'ft Mother,

It did not speak before.

All folemn things

Should anfwer folemn accidents.

The matter?

Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys,
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys.
Is Cadwal mad?

Enter Arviragus, with Imogen dead, bearing her in

And brings the dire occafion, in his arms,
Of what we blame him for.

Arv. The bird is dead,

That we have made fo much on! I had rather
Have skipt from fixteen years of age to fixty;
And turn'd my leaping time into a crutch,
Than have feen this.

Guid. Oh fweeteft, faireft lily!

My brother wears thee not one half fo well,
As when thou grew'it thyself.

Bel. O melancholy!

Who ever yet could found thy bottom? find

The ooze, to fhew what coaft thy fluggish carrack

1 Oh, melancholy!

Who ever yet could found thy
bottom? find

The ooze, to shew what conft
thy fluggish care
Might eas left barbour in?-]
But as plaufible as this at firt
fight may feem, all thofe, who
know any thing of good writing,
will agree, that our author mult

have wrote,

-to fhew what coaft tly Augg carrack

Might eas lieft barb ur in ?— Carrack is a flow, heavy built veffel of burden. This reflores the uniformity of the metaphor, compleats the fenfe, and is a word of great propriety and beauty to defign a melancholic perfon.

WARBURTON.