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 mov'd, 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, 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 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 his 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.

* Pea-cod.

If you would seek us,

Will you be cajoled?

May his share of life be a happy one!

§ Heir apparent, next claimant.

We are yours i'the 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 speaks this, holds his wife by the arm,
That little thinks she has been sluic'd in his 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.

* Mouth.

+ Approving.

A horned one, a cuckold.

Leon.

Why, that's some comfort.

What! Camillo there?
Cam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest [Exit Mamillius. Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

man.

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.

Didst perceive it?

Leon. They're here with me already; whispering, round

ing*,

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, be't: good, should be pertinent;

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 under-
stand

Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon.

Cam.

Leon. Ay, but why?

Ha?

Stays here longer.

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,

To round in the ear was to sell secretly.

Inferiors in rank.

+ Taste.

With all the nearest things to my heart, as well My chamber-councils: wherein, priest-like, thou Hast cleans'd my bosom; I from thee departed Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd

In that which seems so.

Cam.

Be it forbid, my lord!

Leon. To bide upon't ;-Thou art not honest: or, If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward; Which hoxes* honesty behind, restraining

From course requir'd: Or else thou must be counted A servant, grafted in my serious trust,

And therein negligent; or else a fool,

That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, And tak❜st it all for jest.

Cam.

My gracious lord,
I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;
In every one of these no man is free,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
Amongst the infinite doings of the world,
Sometime puts forth: In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful-negligent,

It was my folly; if industriously

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft affects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of, But, 'beseech your grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By its own visage: If I then deny it,

'Tis none of mine.

Leon.

Have not you seen, Camillo, (But that's past doubt: you have; or your eye-glass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn); or heard (For, to a vision so apparent, rumour Cannot be mute), or thought (for cogitation

Resides not in that man, that does not think it),
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
(Or else be impudently negative,

To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say,
My wife's a hobbyhorse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say it, and justify it.
Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken: 'Shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less,
Than this which to reiterate, were sin
As deep as that, though true.

Leon.
Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty): horsing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
blind

With the pin and web*, but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing: The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,

If this be nothing.

Cam.

Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;

For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon.

Good my lord, be cur'd

Say, it be; 'tis true.

It is; you lie, you

lie:

Cam. No, no, my lord.

Leon.
I say, thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave;
Or else a hovering temporizer, that

Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both: Were my wife's liver

*Disorders of the eye.