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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