Bel. Pray be not sicke,
For you must be our Huswife
Imo. Well, or ill,
I am bound to you.
Enter.
Bel. And shal't be euer.
This youth, how ere distrest, appeares he hath had
Good Ancestors
Arui. How Angell-like he sings?
Gui. But his neate Cookerie?
Arui. He cut our Rootes in Charracters,
And sawc'st our Brothes, as Iuno had bin sicke,
And he her Dieter
Arui. Nobly he yoakes
A smiling, with a sigh; as if the sighe
Was that it was, for not being such a Smile:
The Smile, mocking the Sigh, that it would flye
From so diuine a Temple, to commix
With windes, that Saylors raile at
Gui. I do note,
That greefe and patience rooted in them both,
Mingle their spurres together
Arui. Grow patient,
And let the stinking-Elder (Greefe) vntwine
His perishing roote, with the encreasing Vine
Bel. It is great morning. Come away: Who's there?
Enter Cloten.
Clo. I cannot finde those Runnagates, that Villaine
Hath mock'd me. I am faint
Bel. Those Runnagates?
Meanes he not vs? I partly know him, 'tis
Cloten, the Sonne o'th' Queene. I feare some Ambush:
I saw him not these many yeares, and yet
I know 'tis he: We are held as Out-Lawes: Hence
Gui. He is but one: you, and my Brother search
What Companies are neere: pray you away,
Let me alone with him
Clot. Soft, what are you
That flye me thus? Some villaine-Mountainers?
I haue heard of such. What Slaue art thou?
Gui. A thing
More slauish did I ne're, then answering
A Slaue without a knocke
Clot. Thou art a Robber,
A Law-breaker, a Villaine: yeeld thee Theefe
Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou? Haue not I
An arme as bigge as thine? A heart, as bigge:
Thy words I grant are bigger: for I weare not
My Dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art:
Why I should yeeld to thee?
Clot. Thou Villaine base,
Know'st me not by my Cloathes?
Gui. No, nor thy Taylor, Rascall:
Who is thy Grandfather? He made those cloathes,
Which (as it seemes) make thee
Clo. Thou precious Varlet,
My Taylor made them not
Gui. Hence then, and thanke
The man that gaue them thee. Thou art some Foole,
I am loath to beate thee
Clot. Thou iniurious Theefe,
Heare but my name, and tremble
Gui. What's thy name?
Clo. Cloten, thou Villaine
Gui. Cloten, thou double Villaine be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it, were it Toad, or Adder, Spider,
'Twould moue me sooner
Clot. To thy further feare,
Nay, to thy meere Confusion, thou shalt know
I am Sonne to'th' Queene
Gui. I am sorry for't: not seeming
So worthy as thy Birth
Clot. Art not afeard?
Gui. Those that I reuerence, those I feare: the Wise:
At Fooles I laugh: not feare them
Clot. Dye the death:
When I haue slaine thee with my proper hand,
Ile follow those that euen now fled hence:
And on the Gates of Luds-Towne set your heads:
Yeeld Rusticke Mountaineer.
Fight and Exeunt.
Enter Belarius and Aruiragus.
Bel. No Companie's abroad?
Arui. None in the world: you did mistake him sure
Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him,
But Time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of Fauour
Which then he wore: the snatches in his voice,
And burst of speaking were as his: I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten
Arui. In this place we left them;
I wish my Brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell
Bel. Being scarse made vp,
I meane to man; he had not apprehension
Of roaring terrors: For defect of iudgement
Is oft the cause of Feare.
Enter Guiderius.