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To tire your Royalty.
Leo. We'll part the time between's then and in that I'll no gain-faying.
Pol. Prefs me not, 'befeech you!
There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'th'world
Leo. Tongue-ty'd our Queen? speak you.
Her. I had thought, Sir, to have held my peace, until You had drawn oaths from him not to ftay: you, Sir, Charge him too coldly.. Tell him you are fure All in Bitbynia's well this fatisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim'd; fay this to him,
Leo. Well faid, Hermione.
Her. To tell, he longs to fee his fon, were Arong; But let him fay fo then, and let him go
But let him fwear fo, and he fhall not stay,
We'll thwack him hence with diftaffs.
Yet of your royal prefence I'll adventure [To Polixenes, The borrow of a week. When at Bithynia
You take my Lord, I'll give you my commiffion
Pol. No, Madam.
Her. Nay, but you
You put me off with limber vows; but I,
Pol. Your gueft then, Madam :
To be your prifoner, should import offending
Her. Not your goaler then,
But your kind hoftefs; come, I'll question you
Pol. We were, fair Queen,
Two lads, that thought there was no more behind,
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' fun. And bleat the one at th'other : what we chang'di Was innocence for innocence; we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, no nor dream'a That any did had we purfu'd that life, And our weak fpirits ne'er been higher rear'd With ftronger blood, we fhould have answer'd heaven Boldly, not guilty; th' impofition clear'd 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
Her Oh! Grace to boot!
Of this make no conclufion, left you fay
Her. He'll ftay, my Lord.
Leo. Never, but once.
Her. What? have I twice faid well? when was't before? I pr'ythee tell me ; cram's with praise, and make's As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless, Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that. Our praises 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 mistake you: O, would her name were Grace! But once before I fpake to th' purpose ? when? Nay, let me have't; I long.
Leo. Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had fowr'd themfelves to death,
And clepe thy felf my love; then didst thou utter,
Her. This is grace indeed.
Why, lo you now; I've spoke to th' purpose twice ;
Leo. Too hot
To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
And well become the Agent: 't may, I grant ;
Mam. Ay, my good Lord,
Why, that's my bawcock; what has 't fmutch'd thy nofe A
[Wipes the boy's face.
And yet the fteer, the heifer, and the calf,
[Obferving 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'ft a rough path, and the shoots that have,
To be full like me. Yet they fay we are
And fellow'ft nothings. Then 'tis 'very credent
* A leffon upon the horn at the death of the deer.
t A black dje being ufed in too great quantity doth not only make the cloth to rot upon which it is pus, but the colgar it felf to fade and grow fully much the footer.
And that to the infection of my brains,
Pol. What means Sicilia ?
Lev. No, in good carneft,
How fometimes nature will betray its folly!
Pol. If at home, Six,
He's all my exercife, my mirth, my matter;
Leo. So ftands this Squire
Mam. No, I'll fight.
Lea. You will! why, happy man be's dole ! My brother, you fo fond of your young Prince, as we Do feem to be of ours?
Offic'd with me: we two will walk, my Lord,
Next to thy felf, and my young rover,
Her. If you would feck us,
We are yours i' th' garden: hall's attend you there ?