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thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief nor my voice

for thy preferment.

PISANIO.

Well, my good lord.

CLOTEN.

Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou

hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou

canst not, in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower

of mine. Wilt thou serve me?

PISANIO.

Sir, I will.

CLOTEN.

Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy late

master's garments in thy possession?

PISANIO.

I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when

he took leave of my lady and mistress.

CLOTEN.

The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither.

Let

it be thy first service; go.

PISANIO.

I shall, my lord. Exit

CLOTEN. Meet thee at Milford Haven! I forgot to ask him one thing;

I'll remember't anon. Even there, thou villain Posthumus,

will I

kill thee. I would these garments were come. She said upon a

time- the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart- that she

held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble

and natural person, together with the adornment of my qualities.

With that suit upon my back will I ravish her; first kill him,

and in her eyes. There shall she see my valour, which will then

be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of

insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath

dined-

which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the clothes that

she so prais'd- to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home

again. She hath despis'd me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes

Be those the garments?

PISANIO.

Ay, my noble lord.

CLOTEN.

How long is't since she went to Milford Haven?

PISANIO.

She can scarce be there yet.

CLOTEN.

Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing

that I have commanded thee. The third is that thou wilt be a

voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous and true, preferment

shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford, would

I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true. Exit

PISANIO. Thou bid'st me to my loss; for true to thee

Were to prove false, which I will never be,

To him that is most true. To Milford go,

And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,

You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed

Be cross'd with slowness! Labour be his meed! Exit

SCENE VI. Wales. Before the cave of BELARIUS

Enter IMOGEN alone, in boy's clothes

IMOGEN.

I see a man's life is a tedious one.

I have tir'd myself, and for two nights together

Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick

But that my resolution helps me. Milford,

When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,

Thou wast within a ken. O Jove! I think

Foundations fly the wretched; such, I mean,

Where they should be reliev'd. 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. To lapse in fulness

Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood

Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord!

Thou art one o' th' 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?

Here is a path to't; '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 anything 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 into the cave

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS

BELARIUS.

You, Polydore, have prov'd 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