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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 deny'd 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-ty'd, 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 ad

venture

The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia

You take my lord, I'll 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.

Her. Nay, but you will?

Pol.

Her. Verily!

No, madam.

I may not, 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,

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 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.

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 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 clear'd,

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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 any but with us.

Leon.

Is he won yet?

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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 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: O, 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:

t

The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;

The other, for some while a friend.

Leon.

[Giving her hand to Polixenes. 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 practis'd 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.

Leon.

Ay, my good lord.

I'fecks!

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 3;
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd, neat.-Still virginalling 9.

[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 shoots

that I have,

To be full like me:-yet, they say, we are

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