Their appearance did not belie them, for these boys were no other than the two sons of Cymbeline, stolen in their infancy by a banished lord in revenge for an act of great injustice. Belarius had been a gallant soldier, first among the best, and much beloved by Cymbeline, by whose side he had often fought the Romans. But at the very height of his renown he was suddenly reduced to the deepest disgrace, not for any fault of his own, but because two villains, whose false oaths prevailed before his perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline that he was confederate with the Romans. Then followed his banishment and his theft of the two young Princes; and so for twenty years he had lived this wild life among the Welsh mountains, bringing up the boys as if they had been his own sons, and training them in all sorts of manly exercises. In this new existence Belarius called himself “Morgan”; Cymbeline’s eldest son Guiderius went by the name of “Polydore”; and the younger, Arviragus, was known as “Cadwal.” Weary and hungry with a long day’s hunting, and looking forward to a good meal from the spoils of the chase, these three were about to enter their cave, when a sudden sign from Belarius stopped the other two. “Stay; come not in. But that it eats our victuals, I should think here were a fairy,” said Belarius. “What’s the matter, sir?” asked Guiderius, the elder boy. “By Jupiter, an angel! Or, if not, an earthly paragon! Behold divineness no elder than a boy!” cried Belarius, as Imogen, alarmed by the sound of voices, came to the entrance of the cave. Terrified at the sight of these newcomers, who, for their part, stood gazing in bewilderment at this strange intruder, she began a hasty apology. “Good masters, harm me not. Before I entered here, I called, and thought to have begged or bought what I have taken. Good troth, I have stolen nothing, and would not, though I had found gold strewed on the floor. Here’s money for my meat; I would have left it on the board as soon as I had made my meal, and parted with prayers for the provider.” “Money, youth?” exclaimed the elder Prince disdainfully. “All gold and silver rather turn to dirt!” added the second. “I see you are angry,” said Imogen piteously. “Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should have died if I had not made it.” “Whither bound?” asked Belarius. “To Milford Haven.” “What’s your name?” [Illustration: “Good masters, harm me not.”] “Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who is bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford, to whom being on my way, almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offence.” “Prithee, fair youth, think us no churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in,” said Belarius kindly. “Well encountered! ’Tis almost night; you shall have better cheer ere you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome.”