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_ ACT IV. SCENE I.
Wales. Near the cave of BELARIUS.
[Enter CLOTEN alone.]
CLOTEN.
I am near to th' place where they should meet,
if Pisanio have mapp'd it truly. How fit his
garments serve me! Why should his mistress,
who was made by him that made the tailor, not
be fit too? The rather- saving reverence of the
word- for 'tis said a woman's fitness comes
by fits. Therein I must play the workman.
I dare speak it to myself, for it is not
vain-glory for a man and his glass to confer
in his own chamber- I mean, the lines of
my body are as well drawn as his; no less young,
more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond
him in the advantage of the time, above him in
birth, alike conversant in general services, and
more remarkable in single oppositions. Yet this
imperceiverant thing loves him in my despite.
What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now
is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within
this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy
garments cut to pieces before her face; and all
this done, spurn her home to her father, who may,
haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage; but
my mother, having power of his testiness, shall
turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up
safe. Out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune,
put them into my hand. This is the very description
of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me.
[Exit.] _
Read next: ACT IV: SCENE II
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