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When from the mountain top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken:

Two beggars told me,

I could not miss my way: Will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis

A punishment, or trial? Yes: no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true:

My dear lord!

Thou art one o' the 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?
Tis some savage hold:

I were best not call: I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow 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.

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. Such a foe, good Heavens! [She goes into the Cave

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Bel. You, Polydore, have prov'd best woodman, and

Are master of the feast: Cadwal, and I,

Will play the cook, and servant :

Come, our stomachs

Will make what's homely, savoury: Weariness

Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth

Finds the down pillow hard.-Now, peace be here,

Poor house, that keep'st thyself!

[Goes towards the Cave.

Guid. I am throughly weary.

Aro. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. Guid. There's cold meat i'the cave; we'll browse

on that,

Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.

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Think us no churls; nor measure our good minds

By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'dantinge Tis almost night: you shall have better cheer

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