'Tis wonder
That an inuisible instinct should frame them
To Royalty vnlearn'd, Honor vntaught,
Ciuility not seene from other: valour
That wildely growes in them, but yeelds a crop
As if it had beene sow'd: yet still it's strange
What Clotens being heere to vs portends,
Or what his death will bring vs.
Enter Guidereus.
Gui. Where's my Brother?
I haue sent Clotens Clot-pole downe the streame,
In Embassie to his Mother; his Bodie's hostage
For his returne.
Solemn Musick.
Bel. My ingenuous Instrument,
(Hearke Polidore) it sounds: but what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to giue it motion? Hearke
Gui. Is he at home?
Bel. He went hence euen now
Gui. What does he meane?
Since death of my deer'st Mother
It did not speake before. All solemne things
Should answer solemne Accidents. The matter?
Triumphes for nothing, and lamenting Toyes,
Is iollity for Apes, and greefe for Boyes.
Is Cadwall mad?
Enter Aruiragus, with Imogen dead, bearing her in his Armes.
Bel. Looke, heere he comes,
And brings the dire occasion in his Armes,
Of what we blame him for
Arui. The Bird is dead
That we haue made so much on. I had rather
Haue skipt from sixteene yeares of Age, to sixty:
To haue turn'd my leaping time into a Crutch,
Then haue seene this
Gui. Oh sweetest, fayrest Lilly:
My Brother weares thee not the one halfe so well,
As when thou grew'st thy selfe
Bel. Oh Melancholly,
Who euer yet could sound thy bottome? Finde
The Ooze, to shew what Coast thy sluggish care
Might'st easilest harbour in.
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