Page 749 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

Art thou my calf?

MAMILLIUS
Yes, if you will, my lord.

LEONTES
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, [130]

(That will say any thing): but were they false
As o’er-dy’d 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 page, [135]
Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
Most dear’st, my collop! Can thy dam? − may’t be? −
Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:

Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicat’st with dreams; − how can this be? − [140]
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 [145]
And hard’ning of my brows).

POLIXENES
What means Sicilia?

HERMIONE
He something seems unsettled.

POLIXENES
How, my lord?
What cheer? how is’t with you, best brother?

HERMIONE