BELARIUS.
By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy!
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’ 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
With pray’rs 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.