IACHIMO.
If I have lost it,
I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I’ll make a journey twice as far t’ enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness which
Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won.
POSTHUMUS.
The stone’s too hard to come by.
IACHIMO.
Not a whit,
Your lady being so easy.
POSTHUMUS.
Make not, sir,
Your loss your sport. I hope you know that we
Must not continue friends.
IACHIMO.
Good sir, we must,
If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question farther; 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.
POSTHUMUS.
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.
IACHIMO.
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.
POSTHUMUS.
Proceed.
IACHIMO.
First, her bedchamber,
(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—
POSTHUMUS.
This is true;
And this you might have heard of here, by me
Or by some other.