HER. Not your goaler then,

But kind hoftefs; come, I'll queftion you

your

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 fuch 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' fun, 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 purfu'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 facred lady,

Temptations have fince then been born to's: for
In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;
Your precious felf had then not crofs'd the eyes
Of my young play-fellow.

HER. 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 first finn'd with us, and that with us
You did continue fault; and that you flipt 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 deareft, thou ne'er spok'st

To better purpose.

HER. Never?

LEO. Never, but once.

HER. What? have I twice faid 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 fpur we heat an acre, but to th' goal.
My laft good deed was to intreat his stay;
What was my firft? it has an elder fifter,

Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spake to th' purpose ? when?

Nay, let me hav't; I long.

LEO. Why, that was when

Three crabbed months had fow'rd themselves to death,
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,

And clepe thyself my love; then didst thou utter,
66 I am yours for ever."

HER. 'Tis Grace, indeed.

Why, lo you now; I've spoke to the purpose twice;
The one for ever earn'd à royal husband;

Th' other for fome while a friend.

LEO. 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

[Afide.

May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bofom,
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 fmiles
As in a looking-glafs and then to figh, as 'twere
The mort o' th' deer; oh, that is entertainment

My bofom likes not, nor my

Art thou my boy?

MAM. Ay, my good lord.

LEO. I' fecks!

brows-Mamillius,

་

Why, that's my bawcock; what? has't smutch'd thy nofe? They fay it's a copy out of mine. Come, captain,

We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain;

And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,

[Obferving Polixenes and Hermione.

Upon his palm?--how now, you wanton calf!

Art thou my calf?

MAM. Yes, if you will, my lord.

[have,

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

To be full like me.-Yet they fay, we are

Almost as like as eggs; women say fo,

That will fay any thing; but were they false,
As o'er-dy'd blacks, as winds, as waters; falfe
As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
No bourne 'twixt his and mine: yet were it true
To fay, 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-
Imagination! thou dost stab to th' center.
Thou doft make poffible things not to be fo held,

Communicat'ft with dreams

-(how can this be?)

With what's unreal, thou co-active art,

And fellow'ft nothing. Then 'tis very credent,
Thou may'st co-join with something, and thou doft,
And that beyond commiffion; and I find it;
And that to the infection of my brains,

And hardning of my brows.

POL. What means Sicilia ?

HER. He fomething seems unfettled.

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 you not 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 bofoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and faw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Left it should bite its master; and so prove,

As ornaments oft do, too dangerous;

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,

This fquafh, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,

Will you take eggs for money?

MAM. No, my lord, I'll fight.

[ther.

LEO. You will!-why, happy man be's dole!-my bre

Are

you fo 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 fworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parafite, my foldier, states-man, all;
He makes a July's day fhort as December;
And with his varying childnefs, cures in me
Thoughts that should thick my blood.
LEO. So ftands this fquire

Offic'd with me: we two will walk, my lord,

And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
How thou lov'ft us, fhew 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 will feek us,

We are yours i'th' garden: fhall's attend you there?
LEO. To your own bents difpofe you; you'll be found,
beneath the sky.—I am angling now,
Tho' you perceive me not, how I give line;

Be

you

Go to, go to.

[Afide, obferving Her.

How the holds up the aeb! the bill to him!

And arms her with the boldness of a wife

[Exeunt 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 fo difgrac'd a part, whose iffue

Will hifs 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 prefent,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm,

That little thinks, fhe has been fluic'd in's abfence;