Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS. Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the king of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us, we will be justified in our loves: for, indeed, Cam. 'Beseech you,

in so rare

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence - I know not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks: that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear, for what's given freely.

Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then

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.

him: it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, phyCam. I very well with agree you in the hopes of sicks 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

Supplied by substitution of embassies. 2 Wide waste of country.

3 Affords a cordial to the state

SCENE II.

A Room of State in the Palace.

Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, CAMILLO, and Attendants.

Pol. 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;

I'll no gain-saying.

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.

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. sir,

You,

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 say so, and he shall not stay,

We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.

Though you would seek to 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.

Her.

Not your gaoler then, But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys: You were pretty lordlings 7 then. 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.

Pol.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o'the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i' the sun,

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.

Her.

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. Grace to boot! 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.

Is he won yet?

Her. He'll stay, my lord.

Leon.

At my request, he would not. Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st

I pr'ythee, tell me: Cram us with praise, and make us As fat as 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 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

7 A diminutive of lords

Leon.

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 woman that deserves a name
Too rank to mention: 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? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty :) 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.
Good my lord, be cured
Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.

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.