Leon. One seven-night longer. Pol.
Very sooth, to-morrow. Leon. We'll part the time between's then. and in that I'll no gainsaying. Pol.
Press me not, 'beseech you, so; There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'the 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.
And bleat the one at the 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, Hereditary ours. Her. By this we gather, You have tripp'd since. Pol.
O my most sacred lady, 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.
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.
Her. He'll stay, my Leon. Tongue-tied, our queen? speak you. Leon. At my request, he would not. Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace, until Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st You had drawn oaths from him, not to stay. You, sir,To better purpose. 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 PoL.] I'll adventure 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 his parting: yet, good deed, Leontes, I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind What lady she her lord.-You 'll stay? Pol.
Her. Nay, but you will? Pol.
You put me off with limber vows: But I,
Her. What? have I twice said well? when was't I pr'ythee, tell me : Cram us with praise, and make us As fatas tame things: One good deed, dying tongueless, 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 the goal ;- My last good 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 the 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.
Why, lo you now I have spoke to the purpose twice;
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
Should yet say, Sir, no going. Verily You shall not go; a lady's verily is
[oaths,The other, for some while a friend.
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.
Your guest then, madam : To be your prisoner, should import offending; Which is for me less easy to commit,
But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys; You were pretty lordlings then.
Pol. We were, fair queen, Two lads, that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun,
[Giving her hand to POLIXENES. 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 palms, 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' the deer; O, that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows.-Mamillius, Art thou my boy?
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