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The shepherd's note since we have left our I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind

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We are tougher, brother,

Than you can put us to❜t.
Pol.
No longer stay. 16
Leon. One seven-night longer.
Pol.
Very sooth, to-morrow.
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,

20

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 24
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

28 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, 32
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, 36
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
[TO POLIXENES.] 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 41
Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,

Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees When you depart, and save your thanks. say you?

48

52

How

My prisoner, or my guest? by your dread 'verily,'

One of them you shall be.

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Her.

ΟΙ

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, 64 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

68

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 72
With stronger blood, we should have answer
heaven

Boldly, 'not guilty;' the imposition clear`d
Hereditary ours.
Her.
By this we gather
You have tripp'd since.
Pol.
Ol my most sacred lady, 7€
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 playfellow.

sc

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

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As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless, 92

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: 96
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,

'Tis grace indeed.

104

'I am yours for ever.'
Her.
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.

108

[Giving her hand to POLIXENES.
Leon. [Aside.] 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 112
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 paddling palms and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practis'd smiles, 117
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?
Ay, my good lord.

Mam.
Leon.
I' fecks? 121
Why, that's my bawcock. What! hast smutch'd
thy nose?

They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,

125

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. 128
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 anything: but were they false 132
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, 140
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 mayst co-join with something; and thou
dost,
144

And that beyond commission, and I find it,
And that to the infection of my brains
And hardening of my brows.
Pol.
What means Sicilia?.
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.
How, my lord! 148
What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?
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, 152 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,

161

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 164
Do seem to be of ours?

Pol.
If at home, sir,
He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,

168

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, 172
And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's wel-

come:

Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:

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Why, that's some comfort. 208 What! Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good lord.

man.

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest [Exit MAMILLIUS. Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. 212 Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold:

Next to thyself and my young rover, he's 176 When you cast out, it still came home.
Apparent to my heart.

If you would seek us,

Her. We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there?

Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found,

Be you beneath the sky.—[Aside.] I am angling now,

Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to!

180

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Go play, boy, play; thy mother plays, and I Play too, but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue 188 Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour

Will be my knell. 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 the 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, 196 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. Physic for't there is

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Leon.
Didst note it?
Cam. He would not stay at your petitions;
made

His business more material.
Leon.

Didst perceive it? 216 [Aside.] They're here with me already, whispering, rounding

'Sicilia is a so-forth.' 'Tis far gone, When I shall gust it last. How came 't, Camillo, That he did stay?

Cam. At the good queen's entreaty. 220 Leon. At the queen's, be't: 'good' should be pertinent;

224

But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking; will draw in
More than the common blocks: not noted, is 't,
But of the finer natures? by some severals
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes
Perchance are to this business purblind? say.
Cam. Business, my lord! I think most under-
stand

Bohemia stays here longer.
Leon.

Cam.

Leon. Ay, but why?

Ha!

Stays here longer.

Cam. To satisfy your highness and the entreaties

Of our most gracious mistress.

Leon.

232

Satisfy! The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy! Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, With all the nearest things to my heart, as well My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou Hast cleans'd my bosom: I from thee departed Thy penitent reform'd; but we have been Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd In that which seems so. Cam. Be it forbid, my lord! Leon. To bide upon 't, thou art not honest; or If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining From course requir'd; or else thou must b counted

A servant grafted in my serious trust,

240

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It is; you lie, you lie: my I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee; Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, Or else a hovering temporizer, that 256 Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver 304 Infected as her life, she would not live

260

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty
Is never free of: but, beseech your Grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By its own visage; if I then deny it,
Tis none of mine.
Leon.
Ha' not you seen, Camillo,-
But that's past doubt; you have, or your eye-
glass

264

268

Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,—or heard,-
For to a vision so apparent rumour
Cannot be mute,-or thought, for cogitation
Resides not in that man that does not think,—
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt.confess,- 273
Or else be impudently negative,

To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,—then

say

276

My wife's a hobby-horse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say't and justify't.
Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without 280
My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this; which to reiterate were sin
As deep as that, though true.
Leon.
Is whispering nothing? 284
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh?-a note infallible
Of breaking honesty,-horsing foot on foot?288
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs
only,

That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? Why, then the world and all that's in 't is nothing;

293 The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;

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