Hoa? No answer? Then Ile enter.
Best draw my Sword; and if mine Enemy
But feare the Sword like me, hee'l scarsely looke on't.
Such a Foe, good Heauens.
Enter.
Scena Septima.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus
Bel. You Polidore haue prou'd best Woodman, and
Are Master of the Feast: Cadwall, and I
Will play the Cooke, and Seruant, 'tis our match:
The sweat of industry would dry, and dye
But for the end it workes too. Come, our stomackes
Will make what's homely, sauoury: Wearinesse
Can snore vpon the Flint, when restie Sloth
Findes the Downe-pillow hard. Now peace be heere,
Poore house, that keep'st thy selfe
Gui. I am throughly weary
Arui. I am weake with toyle, yet strong in appetite
Gui. There is cold meat i'th' Caue, we'l brouz on that
Whil'st what we haue kill'd, be Cook'd
Bel. Stay, come not in:
But that it eates our victualles, I should thinke
Heere were a Faiery
Gui. What's the matter, Sir?
Bel. By Iupiter an Angell: or if not
An earthly Paragon. Behold Diuinenesse
No elder then a Boy.
Enter Imogen.
Imo. Good masters harme me not:
Before I enter'd heere, I call'd, and thought
To haue begg'd, or bought, what I haue took: good troth
I haue stolne nought, nor would not, though I had found
Gold strew'd i'th' Floore. Heere's money for my Meate,
I would haue left it on the Boord, so soone
As I had made my Meale; and parted
With Pray'rs for the Prouider
Gui.
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