Page 826 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

And handed love, as you do, I was wont
To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack’d
The pedlar’s silken treasury, and have pour’d it
To her acceptance: you have let him go, [345]

And nothing marted with him. If your lass
Interpretation should abuse, and call this
Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
For a reply, at least if you make a care

Of happy holding her.

FLORIZEL
Old sir, I know [350]
She prizes not such trifles as these are:
The gifts she looks from me are pack’d and lock’d
Up in my heart, which I have given already,

But not deliver’d. O hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, [355]
Hath sometime lov’d. I take thy hand, this hand,

As soft as dove’s down and as white as it,
Or Ethiopian’s tooth, or the fann’d snow that’s bolted
By th’ northern blasts twice o’er.

POLIXENES
What follows this?
How prettily the young swain seems to wash [360]

The hand was fair before! I have put you out:
But to your protestation: let me hear
What you profess.

FLORIZEL
Do, and be witness to ’t.

POLIXENES
And this my neighbour too?

FLORIZEL

And he, and more