[Exit.]
BELARIUS.
I fear ’twill be reveng’d.
Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done’t! though valour
Becomes thee well enough.
ARVIRAGUS.
Would I had done’t,
So the revenge alone pursu’d me! Polydore,
I love thee brotherly, but envy much
Thou hast robb’d me of this deed. I would revenges,
That possible strength might meet, would seek us through,
And put us to our answer.
BELARIUS.
Well, ’tis done.
We’ll hunt no more today, nor seek for danger
Where there’s no profit. I prithee to our rock.
You and Fidele play the cooks; I’ll stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.
ARVIRAGUS.
Poor sick Fidele!
I’ll willingly to him; to gain his colour
I’d let a parish of such Cloten’s blood,
And praise myself for charity.
[Exit.]
BELARIUS.
O thou goddess,
Thou divine Nature, thou thyself thou blazon’st
In these two princely boys! They are as gentle
As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchaf’d, as the rud’st wind
That by the top doth take the mountain pine
And make him stoop to th’ vale. ’Tis wonder
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn’d, honour untaught,
Civility not seen from other, valour
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow’d. Yet still it’s strange
What Cloten’s being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us.
Enter Guiderius.
GUIDERIUS.
Where’s my brother?
I have sent Cloten’s clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother; his body’s hostage
For his return.
[Solemn music.]