| ACT IV SCENE I | Wales: near the cave of Belarius. | |
| | Enter CLOTEN | |
| CLOTEN | I am near to the place where they should meet, if | |
| | Pisanio have mapped 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 | 5 |
| | 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 | 10 |
| | 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 | 15 |
| | 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 | |
| | thy face: and all this done, spurn her home to her | 20 |
| | 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 | 25 |
| | the very description of their meeting-place; and | |
| | the fellow dares not deceive me. | |
| | Exit | |
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