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Why, lo you now, I have spoke to th' purpose twice:'
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
The other, for some while a friend.

[Giving her hand to POLIXENES. Leon.

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 palins, 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'th' 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 ?
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 HERMIONB. 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 Almost as like as eggs; women say so,

That ill say any thing: But were they false
As o'er-died blacks, as wind, as waters ; false
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 welkin eye: Sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop !-Can thy dam?-may't be?
Affection! thy intention stabs the center:
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 may'st 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.

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 mov'd, my lord ?
Leon.

No, in good earnest.
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To barder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, 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,

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, 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's dole! -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 Offic'd with me: We two will walk, my lord, And leave you to your graver steps.--Hermione, How thou lov'st us, show 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 would seek us,
We are yours i’ th' garden: Shall's attend you there?
Leon. To your own bents dispose you : you'll be

found,
Be you beneath the sky :-I am angling now,
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to!

[Aside. Observing POLIXENES and HERMIONE,
How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband! Gone already;

Inch-thick, knee-deep; o'er head and ears a fork'd

one.

:

[Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants. Go, play, boy, play ;-thy mother plays, and I Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour Will be my knell.-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 present, Now, while I speak this, holds his wife by th'arm, That little thinks she has been sluic'd in's absence, And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't, Whiles other men have gates; and those gates

open'd,
As mine, against their will: Should all despair,
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physick for't there is none;
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
From east, west, north, and south: Be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly; know it;
It will let in and out the enemy,
With bag and baggage : many a thousand of us
Have the disease, and feel't not.—How now, boy?

Mam. I am like you, they say.
Leon.

Why, that's some comfort.What! Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good lord.
Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man.

[Exit MAMILLIUS. Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

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Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold: When you cast out, it still came home. Leon.

Didst note it! Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; made His business more material. Leon.

Didst perceive it?They're here with me already; whispering, rounding, Sicilia is a so-forth: 'Tis far gone, When I shall gust it last.--How came't, Camillo, That he did stay? Cam.

At the good queen's entreaty.
Leon. At the queen's, bet: good, should be perti-

nent;
But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks :--Not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures? by some severals,
Of head-piece extraordinary lower messes,
Perchance, are to this business purblind: say.

Cam. Business, my lord? I think, most understand
Bohemia stays here longer.
Leon.

Ha? Cam.

Stays here longer. Leon. Ay, but why?

Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.
Leon.

Satisfy
The entreaties of your mistress? -satisfy?
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils: wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleans'd my bosom ; J from thee departed

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