Act 3, Scene 7

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 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 thoroughly weary.

ARVIRAGUS

I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

GUIDERIUS

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

BELARIUS

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!

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.

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’d 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’d give to him
After long absence, such is yours. Most welcome!
Be sprightly, for you fall ’mongst friends.

IMOGEN

’Mongst friends,
If brothers. 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.

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’d change my sex to be companion with them,
Since Leonatus 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 th’ owl and morn to th’ lark less
welcome.

IMOGEN

Thanks, sir.

ARVIRAGUS

I pray draw near.