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  • Enter 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
    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.