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Pol.

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.

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.2

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.

Her.

Grace to boot!3

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.

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Leon.

Is he won yet?

Her. He'll stay, my lord.

the imposition clear'd,

Hereditary ours.] i. e. setting aside original sin; bating the imposition from the offence of our first parents, we might have boldly protested our innocence to Heaven. WARBURTON. 3 Grace to boot!] Grace, or Heaven help me!

Leon.

At my request, he would not.

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st

To better purpose.

Her.

Leon.

Never ?

Never, but once.

Her. What? have I twice said well? when was't

before?

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

us

As fat as tame things: One good deed, dying tongue

less,

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.

Her.

It is Grace, indeed.

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose

twice:

The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;

The other, for some while a friend.

4

Leon.

[Giving her hand to POLIXENES. Too hot, too hot: [Aside.

* And clap thyself my love;] She opened her hand, to clap the palm of it into his, as people do when they confirm a bargain. Hence the phrase-to clap up a bargain, i. e. make one with no other ceremony than the junction of hands.

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?

Mam.

Leon.

Ay, my good lord.

I'fecks?

Why, that's my bawcock.' What, hast smutch'd thy nose?

They say, it's a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain :
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd, neat.-Still virginalling

8

[Observing POLIXENES and HERMIONE. Upon his palm?-How now, you wanton calf? Art thou my calf?

Mam.

Yes, if

you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have,

5 The mort o' the deer ;] A lesson upon the horn at the death of the deer.

I'fecks?] A supposed corruption of-in faith, Our present vulgar pronounce it-fegs.

7

Why, that's my bawcock.] Perhaps from beau and coq. It is still said in vulgar language that such a one is a jolly cock, a cock of the game.

8

Still virginalling -] Still playing with her fingers, as a girl playing on the virginals. A virginal is a very small kind of spinnet. Queen Elizabeth's virginal-book is yet in being, and many of the lessons in it have proved so difficult, as to baffle our most expert players on the harpsichord. STEEVENS.

? Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have,] !

To be full like me :-yet, they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say any thing: But were they false
As o'erdied blacks,' as wind, as waters; false
As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true
To say this boy were like me.-Come, sir
Look on me with your welkin eye: Sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop!-Can thy dam?-may't
be?

2

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Affection thy intention stabs the center:"
Thou dost make possible, things not so held,
Communicat'st with dreams ;-(How can this be?)-
With what's unreal thou coactive art,

And fellow'st nothing: Then, tis very credent,"
Thou may'st co-join with something; and thou dost;
(And that beyond commission; and I find it,)
And that to the infection of my brains,

And hardening of my brows.

Pol.

What means Sicilia?

How, my lord?

Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.

What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?

The

have lately learned that pash in Scotland signifies a head. meaning, therefore, I suppose, is this: You tell me, (says Leontes to his son,) that you are like me; that you are my calf. I am the horned bull: thou wantest the rough head and the horns of that animal, completely to resemble your father. MALONE. 'As o'er-died blacks,] Sir T. Hanmer understands blacks died too much, and therefore rotten. JOHNSON.

No bourn-] Bourn is boundary. 3welkin eye:] Blue eye; an eye of the same colour with the welkin, or sky.

4

my collop!] So, in The First Part of King Henry VI. "God knows, thou art a collop of my flesh."

5 Affection! thy intention stabs the center:] Affection means here imagination, or perhaps more accurately" the disposition of the mind when strongly affected or possessed by a particular idea." 6 credent,] i. e. credible.

Her.

You look,

As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov'd, my lord?

Leon.
No, in good earnest,-
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, I did recoil
Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This squash, this gentleman :-Mine honest friend, Will you take eggs for money

Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.

Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole !?—
My brother,

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, statesman, all:
He makes a July's day short as December;

This squash,] A squash is a pea-pod, in that state when the young peas begin to swell in it.

8. Will you take eggs for money?] The meaning of this is, will you put up affronts? The French have a proverbial saying, A qui rendez vouz coquilles? i. e. whom do you design to affront? Mamillius's answer plainly proves it. Mam. No, my Lord, I'll fight. SMITH.

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happy man be his dole!] May his dole or share in life be to be a happy man. The expression is proverbial. Dole was the term for the allowance of provision given to the poor, in great families. The alms immemorially given to the poor by the Archbishops of Canterbury, is still called the dole. See The History of Lambeth Palace, p. 31, in Bibl. Top. Brit. NICHOLS.

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