The under-hangman of his realm; and hated Clot. The fouth-fog rot him! Imo. He never can meet more mifchance than come To be but named of thee. His meanest garment Clot. His garment? now, the devil. Imo. To Dorothy, my woman, hie thee presently. Clot. His garment? Imo. I am fprighted with a fool, Frighted, and angered worfe---go, bid my woman Search for a jewel that too cafually Hath left mine arm---it was thy mafter's.. 'Shrew If I would lofe it for a revenue Of any King in Europe. I do think I faw't this morning; confident I am, Pif. 'Twill not be loft. Imo. I hope fo; go, and fearch. Clot. You have abufed me-- His meanest garment?--- If Imo. Ay, I faid fo, Sir; you will make't an action, call witnefs to't. Glot. I will inform your father. Imo. Your mother too; [me, She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope, But the worst of me. So, I leave you, Sir, To the worst of discontent. [Exit. Clot. I'll be revenged,----His meaneft garment ?---well. [Exit. 量 SCENE changes to Rome. Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO. Poft. Fear it not, Sir; I would I were fo fure To win the King, as I am bold her honour Will remain hers. Phil. What means do you make to him? Poft. Not any, but abide the change of time; I barely gratify your love; they failing, Phil. Your very goodness, and your company, E'er look upon our Romans, whofe remembrance Poft. I do believe, (Statist though I am none, nor like to be), (17) -And, I think, He'll grant the tribute, fend th' arrearages, Or lock upon our Romans, whofe remembrance What a strange loofe inference do the editors here make That this fhall prove a war; and you shall hear (18) Enter IACHIMO. Phil. See, Tachimo.---- Poft. Sure the fwift harts have pofted you by land, And winds of all the corners kiffed your fails (18) And you all hear The legion now in Gallia fooner landed Pofthumus is faying, that the Britons are much strengthened fince the time of Julius Cæfar's attack upon them: would then the Romans think now of invading them with a fingle legion? The Poet certainly wrote; The legions now in Gallia, &c. So in four feveral paffages afterwards: The powers, that he already hath in Gallia, To them, the 'egions garrifoned in Gallia, And that the legions now in Gallia are -So pleafe your Majesty, Phil. Welcome, Sir. Poft. I hope the briefnefs of your answer made The speedinefs of your return. lach. Your lady Is of the fairest I e'er looked upon. Poft. And therewithal the best; or let her beauty Look through a cafement to allure falfe hearts, And be falfe with them. Iach. Here are letters for you. Poft. Their tenour good, I trust. lach. 'Tis very like. Haft. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain Court, When you were there? lach. He was expected then, But not approached. Poft. All is well yet. Sparkles this ftone as it was wont, or is't not lach. If I've lost it, I should have loft the worth of it in gold; Your lady being fo eafy. Poft. Make not, Sir, Your lofs your fport; I hope you know that we Muft not continue friends. Iach. Good Sir, we must, If you keep covenant: had I not brought Of her, or you, having proceeded but Peft. If you can make't apparent That have tasted her in bed, my you hand And ring is yours. (19) If not, the foul opinion You had of her pure honour, gains or lofes Your fword or mine; or masterlefs leaves both To who fhall find them. Iach. Sir, my circumstances Being fo near the truth as I will make them, Poft. Proceed. lach. First, her bed-chamber,--- (Where, I confefs, I flept not; but profess, Poft. This is true; And this you might have heard of here, by me, Or by fome other. (19) -If not, the foul opinion You had of her poor honour, &c.] Thus Mr Rowe; and thus Mr Pope, as judiciously as fervilely, after him and yet he pretends to have collated the old copies. But the two elder Folios read, as I have reftored, You had of her pure honour. |