IACHIMO.
You must not so far prefer her ’fore ours of Italy.
POSTHUMUS.
Being so far provok’d as I was in France, I would abate her nothing, though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.
IACHIMO.
As fair and as good—a kind of hand-in-hand comparison—had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain. If she went before others I have seen as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many; but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.
POSTHUMUS.
I prais’d her as I rated her. So do I my stone.
IACHIMO.
What do you esteem it at?
POSTHUMUS.
More than the world enjoys.
IACHIMO.
Either your unparagon’d mistress is dead, or she’s outpriz’d by a trifle.
POSTHUMUS.
You are mistaken: the one may be sold or given, if there were wealth enough for the purchase or merit for the gift; the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.
IACHIMO.
Which the gods have given you?
POSTHUMUS.
Which by their graces I will keep.