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You put me off with limber vows; but I,
Tho' you would seek t' unfphere 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 pirfoner,
Not like a guèft ? so you shall pay your fees
When you depart, and save your thanks. How fay 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 easie 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' impofition clear'd Hereditary ours.
Her. By this we gather
You have tript fince.
Pol. O my most sacred Lady,
Temptations have fince then been born to's; for
In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl ;
Your precious self had then not crossd the eyes
Of my young play-fellow.
Her. Oh! Grace to boot !
Of this make no conclufion, left you say
Your Queen and I are devils, Yet go on.
Th' offences we have made you do, we'll answer,
If you firft finn'd with us, and that with us
You did continue fault; and that you fipt not
but with us, Leo. Is he won yet? Her. He'll stay, my Lord.
Leo. At my request he would not :
Hermione, my deareft, thou ne'er spok’A
To better purpose,
Leo. Never, but once.
Her. What have I twice faid well? when was't bofoza ?
I pr’ythee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's
As fat as came 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 turlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre, But to th' goal;
My last good deed was to intreat 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 (pake to th' purpose ? when ?
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 didit thou utter,
I am yours for ever,
Her, This is grace indeed,
Why, lo you now; I've spoke to th' purpose twice;
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
The other, for some while a friend,
Leo, Too hot
Toʻmingle 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 heartinels, from bounty's 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'o smiles
As in a looking-glass--and then to figh, as 't were
The mort o'th' deer; *oh, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows Mamillus;
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 is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain ;
[Wipes the boy's face. 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
Mam. Yes, if you will, my Lord.
Leo. Thou want'st a rough pain, and the shoots that I have,
To be full like me. Yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say fo,
That will say any thing; but were they false,
As o'er-dy'd blacks, † as winds, as waters ; falfe
As dice are to be wishod, by one that fixes
No'borne 'twixt his and mine ; yet were it true,
To say this boy is like me. Come, Sir page,
Look on me with your welking eye, sweet villain.
Most dear'ft, my collop—can thy dam? may't be?
Imagination! thou doft ftab to th'center.
Thou dost make possible, things not to be so held,
Communicat'st with dreams, (how can this be?)
With what's unreal, thou coactive art !
And fellow't nothings. Then 'tis very credent
Thou may'st co-join with something, and thou dost,
And that beyond commiffion; and I find it,
A lesson upon the born at thedsarb of the derr. + A black diye being used in too great quantity doth not only make the cloth to rot upon which it is put, but the colour itself zu fade and grow rulty much the soones.
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 ?
What cheer ? how is it with you, my best brother ?
Her. You seem to hold a brow of much distraction. Are you not mov'd, my Lord?
Leo. No, in good earneft.
How sometimes nature will betray its folly!
Its tenderness! and make it self a pastime
To harder bofoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil
Twenty three years,
my self unbreech'a,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzica,
Left it should bite its master, and fo prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous ;
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman! Mine honeft friend,
take eggs for mony? Mam. No, l'll fight.
Leo. You will! why, happy 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 exercife, my mirth, my matter ;
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy ;
My parafite, my soldier, states-man, all;
He makes a July's day short as December,
And with his varying childishness, cures in me
Thoughts that should thick my blood.
Léo. So stands the Squire
Offic'd with me; we two will walk, my Lord,
And leave you to your graver steps, Hermione,
How, thou lov'it us, Thew in our brother's welcome!
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:
Next to thy felf, and my young rover, he's
Apparent to my heart.
Her. If you would seek us, We are yours i' th' garden : Dall's attead 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; Go to, go to.
[Afide, observing Her. 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 fork'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 knell. Go play, boy, play—there have been, Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere pow; 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, againft 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; *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, Mamilius—thou'rt an honest man,
SC EN E III,
Camillo; this great Sir will yet stay longer,
Cam. You had much ado to make the anchor hold;
predoininant; and 'ris powerful: think it.
From ealt, west, north and fouth, be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly. Know's
It will let in and ouç the enemy,
With bag and baggage; wany,