No sneaping winds at home, to make us say,
“This is put forth too truly.” Besides, I have stay'd
To tire your royalty.

Leo.
We are tougher, brother,
Than you can put us to't.

Pol.
No longer Stay.

Leo.
One sev'n-night longer.

Pol.
Very sooth, to-morrow.

Leo.
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'th' world,
So soon as yours, could win me: so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, altho'
'Twere needful I deny'd 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,
Farewel, our brother.

Leo.
Tongue-ty'd, our Queen? speak you.

Her.
I had thought, Sir, to've held my peace, until
You'ad 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.

Leo.
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 [To Polixenes.

The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my Lord, I'll give you my commission,^{6 note}

Pol.
No, Madam.

Her.
Nay, but you will?

Pol.
I may not, verily.

Her.
Verily?
You put me off with limber vows; but I,
Tho' you would seek t'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 Goaler 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'th' two?

Pol.
We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i'th' Sun,
And bleat the one at th' 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 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; th' imposition clear'd,^{9 note}

Hereditary ours.

Her.
By this we gather,
You have tript 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.
^{1 note}
Grace to boot!—
Of this make no conclusion, lest you say,

Your Queen and I are devils. Yet, go on;—
Th' 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 slipt not,
With any but with us.

Leo.
Is he won yet?

Her.
He'll stay, my Lord.

Leo.
At my request he would not:
Hermione, my dearest, thou ne'er spok'st
To better purpose.

Her.
Never?

Leo.
Never, but once.

Her.
What? have I twice said well? when was't before?
I pr'ythee, 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 th' goal.^{2 note}

Nay, let me have't; I long.

Leo.
Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had sowr'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.
'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 some while a friend.

Leo.
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,
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 smiles,
As in a looking glass—and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' th' deer;^{3 note} oh, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows—Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?

Mam.
Ay, my good Lord.

Leo.
I' fecks!
Why, that's my bawcock; what? has't smutch'd thy nose?
They say, it's a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
We must be neat;* ^note not neat, but cleanly, captain;
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd neat. Still virginalling^{4 note} [Observing Polixenes and Hermione.

Upon his palm?—how now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?

Mam.
Yes, if you will, my Lord.

Leo.
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* ^note o'er-dy'd blacks, as winds, as waters; false
As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
No bourne '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,^{5 note} sweet villain.
Most dear'st, my collop—can thy dam—may't be—
Imagination! thou dost stab to th' center.
Thou dost make possible things not be so held,
Communicat'st with dreams—(how can this be?)
With what's unreal, Thou co-active art,
And fellow'st Nothing. Then 'tis very credent,
Thou may'st co-join with something, and thou dost,
And that beyond commission; and I find it;
And that to the infection of my brains,
And hardning of my brows.

Pol.
What means Sicilia?

Her.
He something seems unsettled.

Pol.
How? my Lord?

Leo.
What cheer? how is't with you, best 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 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, 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 mony?^{6 note}

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

Leo.
You will!—why, * ^notehappy man be's 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, states-man, all;
He makes a July's day short as December;
And with his varying childness, cures in me
Thoughts that should thick my blood.

Leo.
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, shew in our brother's welcome:
Let what is dear in Sicily, be cheap:
Next to thyself, and my young rover, he's
Apparent^{7 note} to my heart.

Her.
If you will seek us,
We are yours i'th' garden: shall's attend you there?

Leo.
To your own bents dispose you; you'll be found,
Be you beneath the sky.—I am angling now,
Tho' you perceive me not, how I give line; [Aside, observing Her.

Go to, go to.
How she 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 * ^notefork'd one.—
Go, play, boy, play—thy mother plays, and I
Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knel.—Go, play, boy, play—there have been,
Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this present,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm,
That little thinks, she has been sluic'd in's absence;
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't,
Whiles other men have gates; and those gates open'd,
As mine, against their will. Should all despair,
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physick for't, there is none:
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it.
From east, west, north and south. 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 disease, and feel't not.—How now, boy?

Mam.
I am like you, they say.

Leo.
Why, that's some comfort.
What? is Camillo there?

Cam.
Ay, my good Lord.

Leo.
Go play, Mamillius—Thou'rt an honest man: [Exit Mamil.

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