SCENE IWales: near the cave of Belarius.
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 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 thy 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.