Cam. 'Beseech you,

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence-in so rare-I know not what to say. -We will give you sleepy drinks; that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear, for what's given freely. Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding 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;t 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, physics the subject, 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.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room of State in the Palace.

Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, CAMILLO, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the wat❜ry star have been
The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne
Without a burden: time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks
And yet we should, for perpetuity,

Go hence in debt: And therefore, like a cipher,
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply,
With one we-thank-you, many thousands more
That go before it.

Leon. Stay your thanks awhile;

And pay them when you part.
Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow.

I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance,

* Nobly supplied by ambassadors.

Affords a cordial to the state.

† Waste.

Or breed upon our absence.* That may blow
No sneapingt 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.
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 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
"Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward; which to hinder,
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
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,
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,
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.-

Yet of your royal presence [TO POLIXENES], I'll adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia

You take my lord, Ill give him my commission,
To let him there a month, behind the gest§
Prefix'd for his parting: yet, good deed,|| Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
What lady she her lord.-You'll stay?

Pol. No, Madam.

Her. Nay, but you will?

Pol. I may not, verily.
Her. Verily!

You put me off with limber** vows: But I,
Though you would seek to unsphere 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 prisoner,

* (Oh!)

+ Nipping.

The satisfactory intelligence we had yesterday.
Post stage.
Indeed.

Tick.

** Flimsy.

122

WINTER'S TALE.

Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees,
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say 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 easy to commit,
Than you to punish.

Her. Not your jailer then,

But your kind hostess. Come I'll question you
Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys;
You were pretty lordlings* 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.t

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 then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young playfellow.

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 ?

[ACT I.

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,

*A diminutive of lords.

+ Setting aside original sin.

Grace help me.

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 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 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.

Leon. Too hot, too hot:
To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordist 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 deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows.—Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?

Mam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. I' fecks?§

[Giving her hand to POLIXENES. [Aside.

Why that's my bawcock.|| What, hast smutch'd thy nose?-
They say, 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,
Are all call'd neat.-Still virginalling¶

[Observing POLIXENES and HERMIONE. Upon his palm ?-How now, you wanton calf? Art thou my calf?

Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord.

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoot's 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 As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters; false

* By joining hands.

+ Trembling of the heart. The tune played at the death of the deer. By my faith. Beau and coq. I. e. playing with her fingers as on a spinnet. **Thou wantest a rough head, and the budding horns that I have. tt I. e. stuffs.

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 welkint 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;
Communicat'st with dreams;-How can this be ?-
With what's unreal thou coactive art,
And fellow'st nothing: Then, 'tis very credent ||
Thou mayst 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! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methought, 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 ?**

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

Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole !tt-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

Office'd with me: We two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione,

*Boundary.

+ Blue.

** Will you be insultingly cajoled?
++ May his share of life be a happy one.

§ Intent, imagination.
Young peacod.

+ Slice of me.
|| Credible.