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The Winter's Tale.
Clown. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir?
Autolicus. Whether it like me, or no, I am a courtier.-Seest thou not the air of a courtier in these enfoldings? Hath not my gait in it the measure of the court?
Act IV. Se. III.
THE WINTER'S TALE.
SCENE I-Sicilia.-A Square before the Palace of Leontes.
Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUs, r.
Arc. (R. C.) 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. (c.) I think, this coming summer, the king of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.
Arc. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us, we will be justified in our loves; for, indeed
Cam. 'Beseech you→
Arc. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot, with such magnificence-in so rareI 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 ac
Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.
Arc. 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 train'd together in their childhoods: and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now.-Since their more mature dignities, and royal necessities, made separation
of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attomied 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!
Arc. 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
Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him; it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject-makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life to see him a man.
Arc. Would they else be content to die?
Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.
Arc. If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one.
Cam. Come, my lord.
SCENE II.-A Room of State in the Palace.-Trumpets sound.
Ladies ranged, L. Lords and Gentlemen, R.
LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, POLIXENES, ANTIGO-
Pol. (R. C.) Nine changes of the watery star hath been
Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,
Leo. (c.) Stay your thanks awhile, And pay them when you part.
Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow,
I'm question'd by my fears, of what may chance
Leo. We are tougher, brother,
Pol. No longer stay.
Leo. One seven-night longer.
Leo. 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,
Leo. 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. You, sir, Charge him too coldly: tell him, you are sure All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaimed; say this to him,
Leo. Well said, Hermione.
Her. To tell he longs to see his son, were strong:
Pol. No, madam.
Her. Nay, but you will?—
Pol. I may not, verily.
You put me off with limber vows: but I,
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with
Should yet say, "Sir, no going." [Mamillius and Attendant enter at L. U. E.] Verily,
You shall not go; a lady's verily is
As potent as a lord's. [Leontes on returning to his state chair meets Mamillius, who goes back with him.] Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
My prisoner? or my guest?
Pol. Your guest then, madam :
Than you to punish.
Her. Not your gaoler then,
But your kind hostess. 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'the two?
And bleat the one at the other: what we chang'd
Her. (R. C.) By this we gather,
You have tripp'd since.
Pol. (c.) O, my most sacred lady,
Her. Grace to boot!
Of this make no conclusion; lest you say,