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instructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.
Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia, They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities, and royal necessities, made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attornied', with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent; shook hands, as over a vast? ; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves !
Arch. I think, there is not in the world either malice, or matter, to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise, that ever came into my note.
Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child ; one that, indeed, physicks the subjects, makes old hearts fresh : they, that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life, to see him a man.
Arch. Would they else be content to die?
Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.
Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one. [Exeunt.
Supplied by substitution of embassies. 2 Wide waste of country. 3 Affords a cordial to the state.
A Room of State in the Palace:
Enter Leontes, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MA
MILLIUS, CAMILLO, and Attendants.
before it. Leon.
Stay your thanks awhile ; And pay them when
Sir, that's to-morrow. I am question’d by my fears, of what may chance, Or breed upon our absence: That
blow No sneaping + winds at home, to make us say, This is put
forth too truly! Besides, I have stay'd To tire your royalty. Leon.
We are tougher, brother, Than
you can put us to't. Pol.
No longer stay.
Very sooth, to-morrow.
that I'll no gain-saying. Pol.
Press me not, 'beseech you, so ; There is no tongue that moves, none, none i’the
world, So soon as yours, could win me: so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, although
Leon, Tongue-tied, our queen? speak you.
Well said, Hermione.
I may not, verily.
5 Gests were the names of the stages where the King appointed to lie, during a royal progress.
Should yet say, Sir, no going. Verily,
Your guest then, madam :
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.
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 ?
Pól. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i' And bleat the one at the 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 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 cleard, Hereditary ours. Her.
By this we gather, You have tripp'd since.
O my most sacred lady, Temptations have since then been born to us : for In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl ; Your precious self had then not 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
but with us. Leon.
Is he won yet?
At my request, he would not.
Never ? 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 As fat as tame things : One good deed, dying tongue
less, Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages: You may ride us, With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal; My last good deed 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,