(One, bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes,
With scraps o' the court) it is no contract, none:
And though it be allow'd in meaner parties,
(Yet who than he more mean?) to knit their souls
(On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary) in self-figur'd knot,
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
The consequence o' the crown, and must not foil
The precious note of it with a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.

Imo.

Profane fellow!
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom: thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if 't were made
Comparative for your virtues, to be styl'd
The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
For being preferr'd so well.

Clo.

The south-fog rot him!
Imo. He never can meet more mischance, than come
To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment,

That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer
In my respect than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made such men.

How now,

Pisanio'

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently. —
Clo. His garment?

Imo.

I am sprighted with a fool;

Go, bid my woman

Frighted, and anger'd worse.

earch for a jewel, that too casually

CaL

th left mine arm: it was thy master's; 'shrew me,

would lose it for a revenue

Lav king's in Europe. I do think,

To keep this morning: confident I am,

If you will make 't an action, call witness to 't.

Clo. I will inform your father.

Rome. An Apartment in PHILARIO'S House.

Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO.

Post. Fear it not, Sir: I would, I were so sure

To win the king, as I am bold, her honour

Will remain hers.

Phi.

What means do you make to him?

Post. Not any; but abide the change of time;

Quake in the present winter's state, and wish

That warmer days would come. In these fear'd hopes,
I barely gratify your love; they failing,

I must die much your debtor.

your company,

Phi. Your very goodness, and
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king
Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius
Will do 's commission throughly; and, I think,
He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages,
Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet fresh in their grief.

ง

I do believe,

nor like to be)
and you shall hear
sooner landed
than have tidings
Our countrymen

Post.
(Statist though I am none,
That this will prove a war;
The legion, now in Gallia,
In our not-fearing Britain,
Of any penny tribute paid.
Are men more order'd, than when Julius Cæsar
Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at: their discipline

(Now mingled with their courages) will make known
To their approvers, they are people, such

That mend upon the world.

Post. The swiftest harts have posted you by land, And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails,

To make your vessel nimble.

Phi.

Welcome, Sir.

Post. I hope, the briefness of your answer made The speediness of your return.

Is one of the fairest that I have look'd upon.

Post. And, therewithal, the best; or let her beauty Look through a casement to allure false hearts,

Phi. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court,

Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is 't not
Too dull for your good wearing?

Iach.

If I have lost it,

I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I'll make a journey twice as far, t’enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness, which
Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won.
Post. The stone 's too hard to come by.
Iach.

Your lady being so easy.

Post.

Make not, Sir,

Not a whit,

Your loss your sport: I hope, you know that we
Must not continue friends.

Iach.

Good Sir, we must,

If you keep covenant. Had I not brought

The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question farther; but I now
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring; and not the wronger
Of her, or you, having proceeded but

By both your wills.

Post.

If you can make 't apparent
That you have tasted her in bed, my hand,
And ring, is yours: if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure honour, gains, or loses,
Your sword, or mine; or masterless leaves both
To who shall find them.

Iach.
Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth, as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe: whose strength
I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not,
You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.

Iach.

First, her bed-chamber,

(Where, I confess, I slept not, but, profess, Had that was well worth watching) it was hang'd With tapestry of silk and silver; the story,

Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman,

And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for

The press of boats, or pride: a piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship, and value; which, I wonder'd,
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,

Since the true life on 't was

And this you might have heard of here, by me,

Is south the chamber; and the chimney-piece,
Chaste Dian, bathing: never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves: the cutter
Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,
Motion and breath left out.

Which you might from relation likewise reap,
Being, as it is, much spoke of.

Iach.

The roof o' the chamber

With golden cherubins is fretted: her andirons
(I had forgot them) were two winking Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
Depending on their brands.

This is her honour..

Post.
Let it be granted, you have seen all this, (and praise
Be given to your remembrance) the description

Of what is in her chamber, nothing saves

The wager you have laid.

Iach.

Then if you can,

[Producing the Bracelet.

Be pale: I beg but leave to air this jewel; see!

And now 't is up again: it must be married
To that your diamond; I'll keep them.

Post.

Jove!