Leon. We'll part the time between's then; and in

that

I'll no gain-saying.

Pol. Press me not, 'beseech you, so;

There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'the world,
So soon as yours, could win me; so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, although
'Twere needful I denied it.

Leon, Tongue-tied our queen? Speak you.

Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace,

until

You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You,

sir,
Charge him too coldly: tell him, you are sure
All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction

The by-gone day proclaimed; say this to him,
He's beat from his best ward.

Leon. Well said, Hermione.

Her. To tell he longs to see his son, were strong:
But let him say so then, and let him go;
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay;
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
Yet of your royal presence I'll adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I'll give him my commission,
To let him there a month, behind the gest
Prefix'd for his parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o'the clock behind
What lady she her lord. - You'll stay?
Pol. No, madam.

Her. Nay, but you will?-
Pol. I may not, verily.

Her. Verily!

You put me off with limber vows: but I,

Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with

oaths,

Should yet say, "Sir, no going." Verily,

You shall not go; a lady's verily is

As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees,
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say

you?

My prisoner? or my guest? By your dread verily, One of them you shall be.

Pol. Your guest then, madam :

To be your prisoner, should import offending:
Which is for me less easy to commit,
Than you to punish.

Her. Not your gaoler then,

But your kind hostess.-Come, I'll question you
Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys.
You were pretty lordings then.

Pol. We were, fair queen,

Two lads, that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to-morrow as to-day,

And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o'the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i'the

sun,

And bleat the one at the other: what we chang'd
Was innocence for innocence: we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing; no, nor dream'd
That any did. - Had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd Heaven
Boldly, "Not guilty;" the imposition clear'd,
Hereditary ours.

Her. By this we gather,

You have tripp'd since.

Pol. O, my most sacred lady,

Temptations have since then been born to us; for
In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had not then cross'd the eyes

Of my young play-fellow.

Her. Grace to boot!

C

Of this make no conclusion; lest you say,
Your queen and I are devils: yet, go on;
The offences we have made you do, we'll answer.

Leon. Is he won yet?

Her. He'll stay, my lord.

Leon. At my request he would not.

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st

To better purpose.

Her. Never?

Leon. Never, but once.

Her. What, have I twice said well? When was't

before?

I pr'ythee, tell me.

One good deed, dying tongueless,

Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that:
Our praises are our wages: You may ride us,
With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal;-
My last good deed was to entreat his stay;
What was my first ?-It has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you:

But once before I spoke to the purpose: When?
Nay, let me hav't-I long.

Leon. Why, that was when

Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to

death,

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
And clepe thyself my love; then didst thou utter,
" I am yours for ever."

Her. Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the pur

pose twice:

The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;

The other, for some while a friend.

[Gives her Hand to POLIXENES.

Leon. Too hot, too hot:

To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.

I have tremor cordis on me :- my heart dances;
But not for joy,-not joy. This entertainment

May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
And well become the agent: it may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are; and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o'the deer;-0, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows. --Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?

Mam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. I'fecks?

Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy

nose?

They say, it's a copy out of mine.-Come, captain, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain :And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,

Are all call'd, neat. -Still virginalling

Upon his palm!- How now, you wanton calf?
Art thou my calf?

Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord.

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots

that I have,

To be full like me:-yet, they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say any thing: But were they false
As wind, as waters;

Yet were it true

To say, this boy were like me.-Come, sir page, Look on me with your welkin eye. -Sweet villain !

Most dear'st! my collop! - Can thy dam?-may't

be?

Pol. What means Sicilia?

Her. He something seems unsettled.

Pol. How, my lord ?

Leon. What cheer? How is't with you, best bro.

ther?

Her. You look,

As if you held a brow of much distraction:

Are you mov'd, my lord ?

Leon. No, in good earnest.
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness; and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms!-Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil
Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman.-Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money?

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

Leon. You will?-why, happy man be his dole!

My brother,

Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours ?

Pol. If at home, sir,

He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
He makes a July's day short as December;
And, with his varying childness, cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.

Leon. So stands this squire

Offic'd with me:- We two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione,
How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's wel-

come;

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

Her. If you would seek us,

We are yours in the garden: Shall's attend you

there?

Leon. To your own bents dispose you; you'll be

found,

Be you beneath the sky.