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. [Aside.] 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!