Cymbeline

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; if savage,
Take or lend. 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! Exit, to the cave. Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Belarius

You, Polydore, have proved best woodman and
Are master of the feast: Cadwal and I
Will play the cook and servant; ’tis our match:
The sweat of industry would dry and die,
But for the end it works to. Come; our stomachs
Will make what’s homely savoury: weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here,
Poor house, that keep’st thyself!

Guiderius I am throughly weary. Arviragus I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. Guiderius

There is cold meat i’ the cave; we’ll browse on that,
Whilst what we have kill’d be cook’d.

Belarius

Looking into the cave. Stay; come not in.
But that it eats our victuals, I should think
Here were a fairy.

Guiderius What’s the matter, sir? Belarius

By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy!

Re-enter Imogen. Imogen

Good masters, 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,
I have stol’n nought, nor would not, though I had found
Gold strew’d i’ the 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
With prayers for the provider.

Guiderius Money, youth? Arviragus

All gold and silver rather turn to dirt!
As ’tis no better reckon’d, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.

Imogen

I see you’re angry:
Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have died had I not made it.

Belarius Whither bound? Imogen To Milford-Haven. Belarius What’s your name? Imogen

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 fall’n in this offence.

Belarius

Prithee, 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 cheer
Ere you depart; and thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.

Guiderius

Were you a woman, youth,
I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty,
I bid for you as I’ld buy.

Arviragus

I’ll make’t my comfort
He is a man; I’ll love him as my brother:
And such a welcome as I’ld give to him
After long absence, such is yours: most welcome!
Be sprightly, for you fall ’mongst friends.

Imogen

’Mongst friends,
If brothers. Aside. Would it had been so, that they
Had been my father’s sons! then had my prize
Been less, and so more equal ballasting
To thee, Posthumus.

Belarius He wrings at some distress. Guiderius Would I could free’t! Arviragus

Or I, whate’er it be,
What pain it cost, what danger. Gods!

Belarius Hark, boys. Whispering. Imogen

Great men,
That had a court no bigger than this cave,
That did attend themselves and had the virtue
Which their own conscience seal’d them⁠—laying by
That nothing-gift of differing multitudes⁠—
Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, gods!
I’ld change my sex to be companion with them,
Since Leonatus’s false.

Belarius

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.

Guiderius Pray, draw near. Arviragus The night to the owl and morn to the lark less welcome. Imogen Thanks, sir. Arviragus I pray, draw near. Exeunt.

Scene VII

Rome. A public place.

	Enter two Senators and Tribunes.
First Senator	This is the tenour of the emperor’s writ: That since the common men are now in action ’Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians, And that the legions now in Gallia are Full weak to undertake our wars against The fall’n-off Britons, that we do incite The gentry to this business. He creates Lucius proconsul: and to you the tribunes, For this immediate levy, he commends His absolute commission. Long live Caesar!
First Tribune	Is Lucius general of the forces?
Second Senator	Ay.
First Tribune	Remaining now in Gallia?
First Senator	With those legions Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy Must be supplyant: the words of your commission Will tie you to the numbers and the time Of their dispatch.
First Tribune	We will discharge our duty. Exeunt.

Act IV

Scene I

Wales: near the cave of Belarius.

Enter Cloten.

Cloten

I am near to the place where they should meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the rather⁠—saving reverence of the word⁠—for ’tis said a woman’s fitness comes by fits. Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself⁠—for it is not vain-glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber⁠—I mean, the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions: yet this imperceiverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before thy face: and all this done, spurn her home to her father; who may haply be a little angry for my so rough usage; but my mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up safe: out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand! This is the very description of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me. Exit.

Scene II

Before the cave of Belarius.

	Enter, from the cave, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen.