SCENE I.-Sicilia. An Antechamber in LEONTES' Palace. 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, Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence-in so rare— 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 ac cuse 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 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 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. Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: It is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physicks 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. SCENE II.—The same. 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 Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks; Go hence in debt: And therefore, like a cipher, With one we-thank-you, many thousands more Leon. Stay your thanks awhile; And pay them when you part. Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow. I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance, Leon. We are tougher, brother, Than you can put us to't. Pol. No longer stay. 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 gain-saying. Pol. Press me not, 'beseech you, so; There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'the world, Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder, 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. You, sir, 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, 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 POLIXENES.] I'll ad venture 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, What lady she her lord.-You'll stay? Pol. No, madam. Her. Nay, but you will? Pol. I may not, verily. Her. Verily! You put me off with limber vows: But I, 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 lordings then. 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? |