Her. What? have I twice faid well? when was't be fore?

I pr'ythee, tell me; cram's with praise, and make's
As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongue-lefs,
Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon That.

Our praifes are our wages.
You may ride's
With one foft kifs a thousand furlongs, ere
With fpur we heat an acre. But to th' goal:
My laft good deed was to intreat his stay;
What was my firft? it has an elder fifter,

Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I fpake to th' purpofe? when?
Nay, let me hav't; I long.

Leo. Why, that was when

Three crabbed months had fowr'd themselves to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,

And clepe thy felf my love; then didst thou utter, "I am yours for ever.

Her. 'Tis grace, indeed.

Why, lo you now; I've spoke to th' purpose twice; The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;

Th' other, for fome while a friend.

Leo. Too hot, too hot

To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.

I have tremor cordis on me

But not for joy-not joy.·

my heart dances ;

[Afide.

This entertainment

May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bofom,
And well become the Agent: 't may, I grant;
But to be padling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practis'd fmiles,
As in a looking glafs and then to figh, as 'twere
The mort o' th' deer; oh, that is entertainment
My bofom likes not, nor my brows Mamillias,
Art thou my boy?

Mam. Ay, my good lord.
Leo. I' fecks!

Why,

Why, that's my bawcock; what? has't fmutch'd thy

nofe?

They fay, it's a copy out of mine.

Come, captain, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain; And yet the fteer, the heifer, and the calf,

Are all call'd neat.

Upon his palm?-
Art thou my calf?

Still virginalling

[Obferving Polixenes and Hermione. -how now, you wanton calf!

Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord.

Leo. Thou want'ft a rough pash, and the shoots that
I have,

To be full like me.-Yet they fay, we are
Almoft as like as eggs; women fay fo,
That will fay any thing; but were they falfe,
As o'er-dy'd blacks, as winds, as waters; falfe
As dice are to be wifh'd, by one that fixes
No bourne 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true
To fay, this boy were like me. Come, Sir page,
Look on me with your welkin-eye, fweet villain.
Moft dear'ft, my collop-can thy dam
Imagination! thou doft ftab to th' center.
Thou doft make poffible things not be fo held,
Communicat'ft with dreams(how can this be?)
With what's unreal, Thou co-active art,

may't be

And fellow'ft Nothing. Then 'tis very credent,
Thou may'ft co-join with fomething, and thou doft,
And That beyond commiffion; and I find it ;
And That to the infection of my brains,

And hardning of my brows.

Pol. What means Sicilia?

Her: He fomething feems unfettled.

Pol. How my lord?

Leo. What cheer? how is't with you, beft brother? Her. You look,

As if you held a brow of much Distraction.

Are not you mov'd, my lord?

Leo. No, in good earnest.

How fometimes nature will betray its folly!
Its tenderness! and make it self a pastime

L 4

Το

To harder bofoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, I did recoil
Twenty three years, and faw my felf unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Left it fhould bite its mafter; and fo prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous;

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This fquafh, this gentleman. Mine honeft friend,
Will you take eggs for mony?

Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.

Leo. You will! why, happy man be's dole!―My brother,

Are you fo fond of your young Prince, as we
Do feem to be of ours?

Pal. If at home, Sir,

He's all my exercife, my mirth, my matter;
Now my fworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parafite, my foldier, ftates-man, all;
He makes a July's day fhort as December;
And with his varying childnefs, cures in me
Thoughts that fhould thick my blood.
Leo. So ftands this Squire

Offic'd with me: we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver fteps. Hermione,
How thou lov'ft us, fhew in our brother's welcome:
Let what is dear in Sicily, be cheap:

Next to thy felf, and my young rover, he's
Apparent to my heart.

Her. If you will feek us,

We are yours i'th garden: fhall's attend you there? Leo. To your own bents difpofe you; you'll be found, Be you beneath the sky: I am angling now,

Tho' you perceive me not, how I give line;

Go to, go to.

[Afide, obferving Her.

How the holds up the neb! the bill to him!

And arms her with the boldness of a wife

[Exe. Polix. Her. and attendants. Manent Leo. Mam. and Cam.

To her allowing husband. Gone already,

Inch-thick, knee-deep; o'er head and ears, a fork'd one.

Go,

Go, play, boy, play-thy mother plays, and I
Play too; but fo difgrac'd a part, whose iffue

Will hifs me to my grave: contempt and clamour Will be my knel. Go, play, boy, play thore have been,

Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;

And many a man there is, even at this prefent,
Now while I fpeak this, holds his wife by th' arm,
That little thinks, fhe has been fluic'd in's abfence;
And his pond fifh'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't,
Whiles other men have gates; and thofe gates open'd,
As mine, against their will. Should all despair,
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Phyfick for't, there is none;
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike

Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful: think it.
From eaft, weft, north and fouth, be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly. Know't,

It will let in and out the

enemy,

With bag and baggage: many a thousand of's
Have the difeafe, and feel't not. How now, boy?
Mam.. I am like you, they fay.

Leo. Why, that's fome comfort.

What? Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good Lord.

Leo. Go play, Mamillius

-thou'rt an honest man:

Camillo, this Great Sir will yet ftay longer.

[Ex. Mamil

Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold;

When you caft out, it ftill came home.

Leo. Didit note it?

Cam. He would not ftay at your petitions made; His bufinefs more material.

Leo. Didft perceive it?

They're here with me already; whifp'ring, rounding: Sicilia is a fo-forth; 'tis far gone,

When I fhall guft it last. How cam't, Camillo,

That he did ftay?

Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty.

Lear

Leo. At the Queen's be't; good, fhould be pertinent; But fo it is, it is not. Was this taken

By any understanding pate but thine?

For thy conceit is foaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks; not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures? by fome severals
Of head-piece extraordinary; lower meffes,
Perchance, are to this business purblind say.

Cam. Business, my lord? I think, moft understand Bohemia ftays here longer.

Leo. Ha?

Cam. Stays here longer.

Leo. Ay, but why?

Cam. To fatisfe your Highness, and th' entreaties Of our most gracious mistress.

Leo. Satisfie

Th' entreaties of your mistress? fatisfie?

Let That fuffice. I've trufted thee, Camillo,
With all the things nearest my heart; as well
My chamber-councels, wherein, priest like, thou
Haft cleans'd my bofom: I from thee departed
Thy Penitent reform'd; but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity; deceiv'd

In that, which feems fo.

Cam. Be it forbid, my lord

Leo. To bide upon't;

Thou art not honeft; or,

If thou inclin'ft that way, thou art a coward;

Which hoxes honefty behind, reftraining

From courfe requir'd: or elfe thou must be counted
A fervant grafted in my ferious Truft,

And therein negligent; or elfe a fool,

That feeft a game plaid home, the rich ftake drawn,
And tak'ft it all for jeft.

Cam. My gracious lord,

I may be negligent, foolish and fearful; (3)

(3) I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;
In every one of thefe no Man is free,
But that his Negligence, his Folly, Fear,
Amongst the infinite Doings of the World

In

Some