to whom being going, almost
spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offence.'

'Prithee, fair youth,' said old Bellarius, 'do not think us churls, nor
measure our good minds by this rude place we live in. You are well
encountered; it is almost night. You shall have better cheer before you
depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome.'

The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their cave
with many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or, as they
said, him) as a brother; and they entered the cave, where (they having
killed venison when they were hunting) Imogen delighted them with her
neat housewifery, assisting them in preparing their supper; for though
it is not the custom now for young women of high birth to understand
cookery, it was then, and Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as
her brothers prettily expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in
characters, and sauced their broth, as if Juno had been sick, and
Fidele were her dieter. 'And then,' said Polydore to his brother, 'how
angel-like he sings!'

They also remarked to each other, that though Fidele smiled so sweetly,
yet so sad a melancholy did overcloud his lovely face, as if grief and
patience had together taken possession of him.

For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near
relationship, though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys called
her, Fidele) became the doting-piece of her brothers, and she scarcely
less loved them, thinking that but for the memory of her dear
Posthumus, she could live and die in the cave with these wild forest
youths; and she gladly consented to stay with them, till she was enough
rested from the fatigue of travelling to pursue her way to
Milford-Haven.

When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going out
to hunt for more. Fidele could not accompany them because she was
unwell. Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband's cruel usage, as well as the
fatigue of wandering in the forest, was the cause of her illness.

They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all the
way the noble parts and graceful demeanour of the youth Fidele.

Imogen was no sooner left alone then she recollected the cordial
Pisanio had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into a
sound and deathlike sleep.

When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore went
first into the cave, and supposing her asleep, pulled off his heavy
shoes, that