Cam.

It is sixteen years, since I saw my country: though I have, for the most part, been aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent king, my master, hath sent for me: to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween^{14 note} to think so; which is another spur to my departure.

Pol.

I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: 'tis a sickness, denying thee any thing; a death, to grant this. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy services by leaving me now. Of that fatal country Sicilia, pr'ythee speak no more. Say to me, when saw'st thou the prince Florizel, my son?

Cam.

Sir, it is three days, since I saw the prince: What his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have, missingly noted,^{15 note} he is of late much retired from court;

and is less frequent to his princely exercises, than formerly he hath appeared.

Pol.

I have consider'd so much, Camillo, and with some care; so far, that I have eyes under my service, which look upon his removedness: from whom I have this intelligence: That he is seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate.

Cam.

I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note; the report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage.

Pol.

That's likewise part of my intelligence. Thou shalt accompany us to the place: where we will, not appearing what we are, have some question^{16 note} with the shepherd; from whose simplicity, I think it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Pr'ythee, be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.

Cam.

I willingly obey your command.

Pol.

My best Camillo!—We must disguise ourselves.