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 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.

Poł. 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,
Or breed upon our absence: That may 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'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' th'

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 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's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o'th' 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 t'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.

Of

Her.

Not your gaoler then,

But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys; You were pretty lordings then.

my

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' 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 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,

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!

1

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.

Her. He'll stay, my

Leon.

Is he won yet?

lord.

At my request, he would not.

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 th' 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 th' 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.