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.
Your loss your sport: I hope you know that we Must not continue friends.
Good sir, we must, If you keep covenant: Had I not brought The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant We were to question further: 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.
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.
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,
Or do your honour injury.
Iach. 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.
This is a thing Which you might from relation likewise reap; Being, as it is, much spoke of.
Iach. 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!-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
Iach. Then, if you can [Pulling out 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.
Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her?
Sir, (I thank her,) that:
She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet; Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
And yet enrich'd it too: She gave it me, and said She priz'd it once.
May be she pluck'd it off,
She writes so to you? doth she?
Post. O, no, no, no; 't is true.
It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Here, take this too; [Gives the ring.
Kills me to look on 't:-Let there be no honour Where there is beauty; truth, where semblance; love, Where there's another man: The vows of women Of no more bondage be to where they are made, Than they are to their virtues; which is nothing:- O, above measure false !
Phi. Have patience, sir, And take your ring again; 't is not yet won: It may be probable she lost it; or,
Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted, Hath stolen it from her?
And so I hope he came by 't:-Back my ring ;- Render to me some corporal sign about her, More evident than this; for this was stolen.
Iach. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.
Post. Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears. 'T is true;-nay, keep the ring-'t is true, I am sure She would not lose it: her attendants are
All sworn, and honourable :-They induc'd to steal it!
And by a stranger!-No, he hath enjoy'd her:
The cognizance of her incontinency
Is this, she hath bought the name of whore thus dearly. There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you!
This is not strong enough to be believ'd
Of one persuaded well of—
She hath been colted by him.
If you seek For further satisfying, under her breast (Worthy the pressing) lies a mole, right proud Of that most delicate lodging: By my life, I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger To feed again, though full. You do remember This stain upon her?
Ay, and it doth confirm Another stain, as big as hell can hold, Were there no more but it.
Post. Spare your arithmetic : never count the turns; Once, and a million!
If you will swear you have not done 't, you lie ; And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny
Thou hast made me cuckold.
Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal! I will go there, and do 't; i' the court; before Her father:-I'll do something-
Phi. Quite besides The government of patience!-You have won : Let 's follow him, and pervert the present wrath He hath against himself.
With all my heart. [Exeunt.
Another Room in the same.
Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? We are all bastards; And that most venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit; Yet my mother seem'd The Dian of that time: so doth my wife The nonpareil of this.-O vengeance, vengeance! Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me, oft, forbearance: did it with A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on 't
Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her As chaste as unsunn'd snow:-0, all the devils !-- This yellow Iachimo, in an hour,—was 't not?— Or less, at first: Perchance he spoke not; but, Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one, Cry'd, oh! and mounted: found no opposition But what he look'd for should oppose, and she Should from encounter guard. Could I find out The woman's part in me! For there 's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it, The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers; Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers; Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, Nice longings, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows, Why, hers, in part or all; but rather, all: For ev'n to vice
They are not constant, but are changing still One vice but of a minute old, for one
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, Detest them, curse them :-Yet 't is greater skill In a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better.
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