To who? to thee? What art thou? Haue not I
An arme as bigge as thine? A heart, as bigge:
Thy words I grant are bigger: for I weare not
My Dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art:
Why I should yeeld to thee?
Clot. Thou Villaine base,
Know'st me not by my Cloathes?
Gui. No, nor thy Taylor, Rascall:
Who is thy Grandfather? He made those cloathes,
Which (as it seemes) make thee
Clo. Thou precious Varlet,
My Taylor made them not
Gui. Hence then, and thanke
The man that gaue them thee. Thou art some Foole,
I am loath to beate thee
Clot. Thou iniurious Theefe,
Heare but my name, and tremble
Gui. What's thy name?
Clo. Cloten, thou Villaine
Gui. Cloten, thou double Villaine be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it, were it Toad, or Adder, Spider,
'Twould moue me sooner
Clot. To thy further feare,
Nay, to thy meere Confusion, thou shalt know
I am Sonne to'th' Queene
Gui. I am sorry for't: not seeming
So worthy as thy Birth
Clot. Art not afeard?
Gui. Those that I reuerence, those I feare: the Wise:
At Fooles I laugh: not feare them
Clot. Dye the death:
When I haue slaine thee with my proper hand,
Ile follow those that euen now fled hence:
And on the Gates of Luds-Towne set your heads:
Yeeld Rusticke Mountaineer.
Fight and Exeunt.
Enter Belarius and Aruiragus.
Bel. No Companie's abroad?
Arui. None in the world: you did mistake him sure
Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him,
But Time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of Fauour
Which then he wore: the snatches in his voice,
And burst of speaking were as his: I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten
Arui.
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