2480I haue sent Clotens Clot-pole downe the streame,

2481In Embassie to his Mother; his Bodie's hostage

2482For his returne. Solemn Musick.

2483Bel. My ingenuous Instrument,

2484(Hearke Polidore) it sounds: but what occasion

2485Hath Cadwal now to giue it motion? Hearke.

2486Gui. Is he at home?

2487Bel. He went hence euen now.

2488Gui. What does he meane?

2489Since death of my deer'st Mother

2490It did not speake before. All solemne things

2491Should answer solemne Accidents. The matter?

2492Triumphes for nothing, and lamenting Toyes,

2493Is iollity for Apes, and greefe for Boyes.

2494Is Cadwall mad?

2497Bel. Looke, heere he comes,

2498And brings the dire occasion in his Armes,

2499Of what we blame him for.

2500Arui. The Bird is dead

2501That we haue made so much on. I had rather

2502Haue skipt from sixteene yeares of Age, to sixty:

2503To haue turn'd my leaping time into a Crutch,

2504Then haue seene this.

2505Gui. Oh sweetest, fayrest Lilly:

2506My Brother weares thee not the one halfe so well,

2507As when thou grew'st thy selfe.

2508Bel. Oh Melancholly,

2509Who euer yet could sound thy bottome? Finde

2510The Ooze, to shew what Coast thy sluggish care

2511Might'st easilest harbour in. Thou blessed thing,

2512Ioue knowes what man thou might'st haue made: but I,

2513Thou dyed'st a most rare Boy, of Melancholly.

2514How found you him?

2515Arui. Starke, as you see:

2516Thus smiling, as some Fly had tickled slumber,

2517Not as deaths dart being laugh'd at: his right Cheeke

2518Reposing on a Cushion.

2519Gui. Where?

2520Arui. O'th' floore:

2521His armes thus leagu'd, I thought he slept, and put

2522My clowted Brogues from off my feete, whose rudenesse

2523Answer'd my steps too lowd.

2524Gui. Why, he but sleepes:

2525If he be gone, hee'l make his Graue, a Bed:

2526With female Fayries will his Tombe be haunted,

2527And Wormes will not come to thee.

2528Arui. With fayrest Flowers

2529Whil'st Sommer lasts, and I liue heere, Fidele,

2530Ile sweeten thy sad graue: thou shalt not lacke

2531The Flower that's like thy face. Pale-Primrose, nor

2532The azur'd Hare-Bell, like thy Veines: no, nor

2533The leafe of Eglantine, whom not to slander,

2534Out-sweetned not thy breath: the Raddocke would

2535With Charitable bill (Oh bill sore shaming

2536Those rich-left-heyres, that let their Fathers lye

2537Without a Monument) bring thee all this,

2538Yea, and furr'd Mosse besides. When Flowres are none

2539To winter-ground thy Coarse----

2540Gui. Prythee haue done,

2541And do not play in Wench-like words with that

2542Which is so serious. Let vs bury him,

2543And not protract with admiration, what

2544Is now due debt. To'th' graue.

2545Arui. Say, where shall's lay him?

2546Gui. By good Euriphile, our Mother.

2547Arui. Bee't so:

2548And let vs (Polidore) though now our voyces

2549Haue got the mannish cracke, sing him to'th' ground

2550As once to our Mother: vse like note, and words,

2551Saue that Euriphile, must be Fidele.

2552Gui. Cadwall,

2553I cannot sing: Ile weepe, and word it with thee;

2554For Notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse

2555Then Priests, and Phanes that lye.

2556Arui. Wee'l speake it then.

2557Bel. Great greefes I see med'cine the lesse: For Cloten

2558Is quite forgot. He was a Queenes Sonne, Boyes,

2559And though he came our Enemy, remember

2560He was paid for that: though meane, and mighty rotting

2561Together haue one dust, yet Reuerence

2562(That Angell of the world) doth make distinction

2563Of place 'tweene high, and low. Our Foe was Princely,

2564And though you tooke his life, as being our Foe,

2565Yet bury him, as a Prince.

2566Gui. Pray you fetch him hither,

2567Thersites body is as good as Aiax,

2568When neyther are aliue.

2569Arui. If you'l go fetch him,

2570Wee'l say our Song the whil'st: Brother begin.

2571Gui. Nay Cadwall, we must lay his head to th' East,

2572My Father hath a reason for't.

2573Arui. 'Tis true.

2574Gui. Come on then, and remoue him.

2575Arui. So, begin.

2602Gui. We haue done our obsequies:

2603Come lay him downe.

2604Bel. Heere's a few Flowres, but 'bout midnight more:

2605The hearbes that haue on them cold dew o'th' night

2606Are strewings fit'st for Graues: vpon their Faces.

2607You were as Flowres, now wither'd: euen so

2608These Herbelets shall, which we vpon you strew.

2609Come on, away, apart vpon our knees:

2610The ground that gaue them first, ha's them againe:

2611Their pleasures here are past, so are their paine. Exeunt.

bbb Imogen