Enter Jaques with his gold, and a scuttle full
of horse-dung.

Jaq.
He's gone: I knew it; this is our hot
lover.
I will believe them, I: they may come in
Like simple wooers, and be arrant thieves,
And I not know them. 'Tis not to be told
What servile villainies men will do for gold.
O it began to have a huge strong smell,
With lying so long together in a place;
I'll give it vent, it shall ha' shift enough;
And if the devil, that envies all goodness,
Have told them of my gold, and where I
kept it,
I'll set his burning nose once more a work,
To smell where I remov'd it. Here it is;
I'll hide, and cover it with this horse-dung.
Who will suppose that such a precious nest
Is crown'd with such a dunghill excrement?
In, my dear life, sleep sweetly, my dear
child,
"Scarce lawfully begotten, but yet gotten,
"And that's enough." Rot all hands that
come near thee,
Except mine own. Burn out all eyes that
see thee,
Except mine own. All thoughts of thee be poison
To their enamour'd hearts, except mine own.
I'll take no leave, sweet prince, great em-
peror,
But see thee every minute: king of kings,
I'll not be rude to thee, and turn my back
In going from thee, but go backward out,
With my face toward thee, with humble
courtesies.
None is within, none overlooks my wall;
To have gold, and to have it safe, is all.

[ Exit.