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I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance

Or breed upon our absence; that may blow

No sneaping winds at home, to make us say,

"This is put forth too truly." (1) Besides, I have stay'd

To tire your royalty.

Leon.

We are tougher, brother,

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Pol.

Very sooth, to-morrow.

Leon. One seven-night longer.

Leon. We'll part the time between's, then: and in that

I'll no gainsaying.

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. My affairs

Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder,

Were, in your love, a whip to me; my stay,

To you a charge and trouble: to save both,

Farewell, our brother.

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 proclaim'd: 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 [to Polixenes] 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 's parting:-yet, good deed, Leontes,

I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
What lady she (2) her lord. - You'll stay?

Pol.

Her. Nay, but you will?
Pol.

Her. Verily!

No, madam.

I may not, 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, nor dream'd

That any did. Had we pursu'd 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.

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You have tripp'd since.
Pol.

O my most sacred lady,

Temptations have since then been born to 's! for

In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;

Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes

Of my young play-fellow.

Her.

Grace to boot!

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 ;
If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us

You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not

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Never, but once.

Her. What! have I twice said well? when was 't before?

I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make 's
As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongueless

Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages: you may ride 's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal:- (3)

My last good deed was to entreat his stay :
What was my first? it has an elder sister,

Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spoke to the purpose: when?

Nay, let me have '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 clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter,

"I am yours for ever."

Her.

It is Grace indeed.

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

The other for some while a friend.

Leon.

[Giving her hand to Polixenes. Too hot, too hot! [Aside.

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, (4)
And well become the agent; 't may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
As now they are; and making practis'd smiles,
As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows !- Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?

Mam.

Leon.

Ay, my good lord.

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

[Observing Polixenes and Hermione.

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 o'er-dy'd blacks, as wind, as waters, -false
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine; 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 ?-

Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicat'st with dreams;-(how can this be?)-

With what's unreal thou coactive art,

And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent

Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost,

And that beyond commission; and I find it,

And that to the infection of my brains

And hardening of my brows.

Pol.

Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.

What means Sicilia?

How, my lord!

You look

What cheer? how is 't with you, best brother ? (5)

Her.

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, methoughts (6) 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 's dole!-My bro

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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;

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