'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 fave both,
Farewel, our brother.

Leo. Tongue-ty'd, our Queen? fpeak you.

Her. I had thought, Sir, to've held my peace, untit
You 'ad drawn oaths from him not to ftay: you, Sir,
Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are fure,
All in Bohemia's well this fatisfaction

The by-gone day proclaim'd; fay this to him,
He's beat from his beft ward.

Leo. Well faid, Hermione.

Her. To tell, he longs to fee his fon, were firong, But let him fay fo then, and let him go;

But let him fwear fo, and he shall not say;
We'll thwack him hence with diftaffs,

Yet of your royal prefence I'll adventure [To Polixenes.
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia.

You take my Lord, I'll give him my commiffion,
To let him there a month, behind the geft (2)
Prefix'd for's parting: yet, (good deed) Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o'th' clock behind.

What Lady fhe her Lord.

Pol. No, madam.
Her. Nay, but you will.

Pol. I may not, verily,

Her. Verily

You'll stay?

You put me off with limber vows; but I,

Tho' you would feek t'unfphere the ftars with oaths

bebind the geft

Preferib'd for's parting:] I have not ventur'd to alter the text, tho', I freely own, I can neither trace, nor understand, the phrafe, I have fufpected, that the poet wrote;

behind the just

Preferib'd for's farting.

i e. the just, precife, time; the infant; (where time is likewife underitood) by an Elleipfis practis'd in-all tongues. It is familiar with. us to lay, I'll do fuch a thing just now. And in the fame manner the French ufe their adverb juftement (eo ipfo tempore) precifement, a point

nomme.

Should

Should yet fay, "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 gueft? fo you fhall pay your fees,

When you depart, and fave your thanks: How fay you?-
My prifoner or my gueft? by your dread verily,
One of them you fhall be.

Pol. Your gueft then, madam:

To be your prisoner, fhould import offending;
Which is for me lefs easy to commit,

Than you to punish.

Her. Not your goaler then,

But your kind hoftefs; 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 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' 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 purfu'd that life,

:

And our weak fpirits ne'er been higher rear'd

With ftronger blood, we should have anfwer'd heaven Boldly, Not guilty; th' impofition clear'd, (3) Hereditary ours...

Her. By this we gather,

You have tript fince.

Pol. O my moft facred Lady,

Temptations have fince then been born to's: for

Hereditary ours.] i. e. fetting afide original fin: bating that-im-pofition from the offence of our first parents, we might have bololy protefted our innocence to heaven, against any guilt committed by Qurfelves.

In thofe 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 anfwer;
If you firft 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 flay, my Lord.

Leo. At my requeft he would not: Hermione, my deareft, thou ne'er spok'ft 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 praife, and make's As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless, Slaughters a thoufand, waiting upon that. Our praifes are our wages.

You may ride's With one foft kifs a thousand furlongs, ere With fpur we heat an acre.

But to th' goal:

My laft good deed was to intreat his ftay;

What was my firft? it has an elder fifter,

Or I miflake you; Q, 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 fower'd themselves to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,

And clepe thyfelf my love; then didst thou utter, "I am yours forever."

Her. 'Tis grace, indeed.

Why, lo you now; I've fpoke to th' purpofe twice;

The one for ever earn'd a royal hufband;

Th' other, for fome while a friend.

Leo. Too hot, too hot

To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.

[Afide.

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 bofom,
And well become the agent: 'tmay, I grant;.
But to be padling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practis'd fmiles,
As in a looking-glass

and then to figh, as 'twere: The mort o' th' deer; (4) on, that is entertainment My bofom likes not, nor my brows

Art thou my boy?

Mam. Ay, my good Lord.

Leon. I' fecks!

Mamillius,

Why, that's my bawcock; what? haft fmutch'd thy nofe? They fay, it is 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.

Upon his palm?

Art thou my calf?

Still virginalling.

[Obferving Polixenes and Hermione.. -how now, you wanton.calf!

Mam. Yes, if you will, my Lord..

Leo. Thou want'ft a rough pash, and the fhoots that I

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

Almost as like as eggs; women fay so,

[have,.

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 wifh'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, fweet villain.
Moft dear'ft, my collop-can thy dam?-may't be
Imagination! thou doft ftab to th' center..
Thou doft make poffible things not be so held,
Communicat'ft with dreams- (how can this be?)
With what's unreal, thou coactive art,

And fellow't nothing. Then 'tis very credent,

(4) The mort o' th' deer.] To blow a mort, is a hunting phrafe, fig. nifying, to found a particular air, call'd a mort, to give notice that the: deer, which was hunted, is run down, and killing, or kill'd.

Thou

Thou may'ft co-join with fomething, 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 feems unfettled.

Pol. How my Lord?

Lep. What cheer? how is't with you, best brother

Her. You look,

As if you held a brow of much distraction.
Are not you mov'd, my Lord?

Leo. No, in good earnest.

How fometimes nature will betray its folly
Its tenderness! and make itself a paftime
To harder bofoms! looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and faw myfelf unbreech'd,,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Left it should bite its mafter; and fo 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?

Mar. No, my Lord, I'll fight.

Leo. You will! why, happy man be's dole. My brother,

Are you fo fond of your young Prince, as we,
Do feem to be of ours?

Pol. If at home, Sir,

He's all my exercife, my mirth, my matter;
Now my worn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parafite, my foldier, ftates-man, all;
He makes a July's day fhort as December,
And with his varying childness, cures in me
Thoughts that fhould thick my blood.
Lea. So ftands this Squire

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 thyfelf, and my young rover, he's

Apparent