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, 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, '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 You take my lord, I'll give him my commission Prefix'd for 's parting:-yet, good deed, Leontes, I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind Pol. Her. Nay, but you will? 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? 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 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, You have tripp'd since. 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 You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not 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 Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. My last good deed was to entreat his stay : Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace! Nay, let me have 't; I long. Leon. Why, that was when Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death, 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 other for some while a friend. Leon. [Giving her hand to Polixenes. Too hot, too hot! [Aside. To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods. 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 Affection! thy intention stabs the centre: 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. 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? No, in good earnest. How sometimes nature will betray its folly, In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled, 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 He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter: My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all : |