her Bellarius, were by this time returned home. Bellarius had given
them the names of Polidore and Cadwal, and they knew no better, but
supposed that Bellarius was their father: but the real names of these
princes were Guiderius and Arviragus.

Bellarius entered the cave first, and seeing Imogen, stopped them,
saying, "Come not in yet; it eats our victuals, or I should think it
was a fairy."

"What is the matter, sir?" said the young men. "By Jupiter," said
Bellarius again, "there is an angel in the cave, or if not, an earthly
paragon." So beautiful did Imogen look in her boy's apparel.

She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth from the cave, and
addressed them in these words: "Good masters, do not harm me; before
I entered your cave, I had thought to have begged or bought what I
have eaten. Indeed I have stolen nothing, nor would I, though I had
found gold strewn on the floor. Here is money for my meat, which I
would have left on the board when I had made my meal, and parted
with prayers for the provider." They refused her money with great
earnestness. "I see you are angry with me," said the timid Imogen:
"but, sirs, if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died
if I had not made it."

"Whither are you bound?" asked Bellarius, "and what is your name?"

"Fidele is my name," answered Imogen. "I have a kinsman, who is bound
for Italy; he embarked at Milford-Haven, 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 Polidore to his brother,
"how angel-like