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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, left you say,
Your Queen and I are devils. Yet, go on ;-
Th' 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 flipt not,
With any but with us.

Leo. Is he won yet?
Her. He'll stay, my lord.
Leo. At my request he would not:
Hermione, my dearest, thou ne'er spok’It
To better purpose.

Her. Never
Leo. Never, but once.
Her. What? have I twice said well? when wasit

I pr’ythee, tell me ; cram's with praise, and make's
As far as tame things: one good deed, dying tongue.

Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon That.
Our praises are our wages. You may ride's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to th' goal:
My last good deed was to intreat his stay;
What was my first ? it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you: 0, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spake to th' purpose? when?
Nay, let me have't; I long.

Leo. Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had sowr'd themselves to death,
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
And clepe thy self my love ; then didst thou utter,

66 I am yours for ever.
Her. Tis

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



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Leo. 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 ons derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the Agent: 't may, I grant'; But to be padling palms, and pinching fingers, As now they are, and making practis'd smiles, As in a looking-glafs-and then to figh, as 't were The mort oth deer; (4) oh, 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? has't smutch'd thy

nose? They say, it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, We muit' be neat , not neat, but cleanly, captain; And yet the fteer, the heifer, and the calf, Are all callid neat. Still virginalling

[Observing Polixenes and Hermione, Upon his palm? how now, you wanton calf! Art thou my calf? Mam. Yes, if you will, my

lord. Leo. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that

Į have, To be full like me, Yet they say, we are Almoft as like as eggs; women say fo, That will say any thing;- but were they false, As o’er-dy'd blacks, as winds, as waters; false As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes No bourne '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, fweet villain. Most dear'st, my collop- can thy dam?- may't bemImagination thou dost stab to th' center.

(4) The Mort oth' Deer.] To blow a Mort, is a hunting Phrase, 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.


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Thou dost make possible things not be so held,
Communicat'st with dreams (how can this be?)
With what's unreal, Thou coactive art,
And fellow'ft Nothing. Then 'tis very credent,
Thou may'st co-join with something, and thou doft,
And That beyond commission; and I find it,
And That to the infection of my brains,
And hardning of my brows.

Pol. What means Sicilia?
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol. How? my lord?
Leo. 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?

Léo. No, in good earnest.
How sometimes nature will betray its folly!
Its tenderness! and make it self a pastime
To barder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, I did recoil
Twenty three years, and saw my self unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat'; my dagger muzzled,
Left it should bite its master; and fo prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous ;
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,

you take eggs for mony?
Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.
Leo. You will! why, happy man be’s dole. My

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, states-man, all;
He makes a Juby's day short as December,
And with his varying childness, cures in me
Thoughts that should thick my blood.


Leo. 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, thew in our brother's welcome: Let what is dear in Sicily, be cheap : Next to thy self, and my young rover, he's Apparent to my heart.

Her: If you will seek us, We are yours i’th' garden : shall's attend you there?

Leo. To your own bents dispose you; you'll be found, Be you beneath the sky: I am angling now, Tho' you perceive me not, how I

give line; Go to, go to.

(Afide, observing Her, How she holds up the neb! the bill to him! And arms her with the boldness of a wife

[Exe. Polix. Her. and attendants. Manent Leo.

Mam. and Cam. To her allowing husband. Gone already, Inch thick, knce deep; o'er head and ears, a fork'd Go, play, boy, playthy 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 knel. Go, play, boy, play on 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't, It will let in and out the enemy,


With bag and baggage: many a thousand of's
Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy?

Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leo. Why that's some comfort.
What? Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good lord.
Leo. Go play, Mamillius-thou'rt an honest man:

[Ex. Mamil. Camillo, this Great Sir will yet stay longer.

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

Leo. Didit nate it?

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions made; His business more material.

Leo. Didit perceive it?
They're here with me already; whisp'ring, 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,
Leo. At the Queen's be't; good; should be perti,

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 feverals
Of head-piece extraordinary; lower messes,
Perchance, are to this business purblind? say:

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

Leo. Ha?
Cam. Stays here longer.
Leo. Ay, but why?

Cam. To satisfie your Highness, and th' entreaties Of our most gracious mistress.

Leo. Satisfie
Th' entreaties of your mistress? satisfie-
Let That suffice. I've trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the things nearest my heart; as well


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