My prisoner? Or my guest? By your dread verily, One of them you shall be.

Pol. Your guest, then, madam :

H

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, F'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 changed,
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream'd
That any did: had we pursued 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+.

Her. By this we gather,
You have tripp'd since.

Pol. O my most sacred lady,

Temptations have since then been born to us: for
In those unfledged days was my wife a girl:
Your precious self had not then 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
With any but with us.

Leon. Is he won yet?

Her. He'll stay, my lord.

Leon. At my request, he would not. Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest To better purpose.

Her. Never?

A diminutive of lords.

+ Setting aside original sin.

Leon. Never, but once.

Her. What? Have I twice said well? When was't

before?

I pr'ythee, tell me : cram us with praise, and make us As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless,

Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that.

Our praises are our wages: you may ride as,
With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal;-
My last good was, to entreat his stay;

What was my first? It has an elder sister,

Or I mistake you: 0, 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.

[Giving her hand to Polixenes.

Leon. 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: it may, I grant: But to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers, As now they are; and making practised smiles, As in a looking-glass ;-and then to sigh, as 'twere The mort o' the deert: 0, that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows.-Mamillius, Art thou my boy?

Mum. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. I' fecks?

Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose?

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

Trembling of the heart.

The tune played at the death of the deer.
Hearty fellow.

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?

Cam. Yes, if you will my lord.

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I havet,

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-died 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 center:

Thou dost make possible, things not so held,
Communicatest with dreams;-(How can this be?)
With what's unreal thou coactive art,

And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credents,
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 hardening of my brows.

Pol. What means Sicilia ?

Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol. How, my lord?

What cheer? How is't with you, best brother?
Her. You look,

As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you moved, my lord?

Leon. No, in good earnest.

How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness; and make itself a pastime

To harder bosoms! [Aside.]-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 quash, this gentleman:-Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money?

i. e. Playing with her fingers, as if on a spinnet. Thou wantest a rough head, and the budding horns that I have. Blue. $ Credible.

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
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, 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

Officed with me: we two will waik, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.--Hermione,
How thou lovest 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 to my heart.

Her. If you would seek us,

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 :-I am angling now,
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to! [Aside. Observing Polixenes and
Hermione.

How she holds up the nebt, the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband! Gone already;
Inch-thick, knee deep; o'er head and ears a fork'd
one §. [Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and
Attendants.

Go, play, boy, play; thy mother plays, and I
Play too but so disgraced a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour
Will be my knell.-Go, play, boy, play-there
have been,

Or I am much deceived, 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 sluiced in his

absence,

And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't, + Mouth.

• Heir apparent, next claimant. + Approving.

A horned one, cuckold.

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 fort 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 it;

It will let in and out the enemy,

With bag and baggage; many a thousand of us Have the disease, and feel't not.-How now, boy! Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leon. Why, that's some comfort.

What! Camillo there ?

Cam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man.

[Exit Mamillius.

Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer.

Cam. You had inuch ado to make his anchor hold;

When yon cast out, it still came home.

Leon. Didst note it?

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; made His business more material.

Leon. Didst thou perceive it?

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.

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

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 1,
Perchance, are to this business purblind: say.
Cam. Business, my lord? I think, most understand
Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon. Haf

Cam. Stays here longer.

Leon. Ay, but why?

To round in the ear was to tell secretly.

+ Taste.

Inferiors in rank.