Chapter 60

MOSCON, LIVIA, and CLARIN.

MOSCON. How contentedly to die They go forth.

LIVIA. Much more contented Are we three to remain alive.

CLARIN. Not much more; for we must settle Our account now, though I own The occasion might be better, And the place too, still 'twere wrong To neglect the time that's present.

MOSCON. What account pray?

CLARIN. I have been Absent.

LIVIA. Speak.

CLARIN. The whole of a twelvemonth, When without my intermission Moscon in possession held thee. Now my quota in the business, If we both have equal measure, Is that I must have my year.

LIVIA. Can it be that I'm suspected Of thus wronging thee so basely? Why, I wept whole days together When it was the day for weeping.

MOSCON. Yes, for I myself was present: Every day that was not mine She thy friendship quite respected.

CLARIN. That's a bounce; for not a tear, When this day her house I entered, Did she shed, and there I found thee Sitting with her quite contented.

LIVIA. But this day is not a fast.

CLARIN. Yes, it is; for I remember That the day I went away Was my day.

LIVIA. Oh! that's an error.

MOSCON. Yes, I see how that arises, This year is a year bissextile, And our days are now the same.

CLARIN. Well, I'm satisfied, 'tis better That a man should not too deeply Pry into such things.--Good heavens!--

[The sound of a great tempest is heard.

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