_Leon._ No, in good earnest. 150 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, 155 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, 160 Will you take eggs for money? _Mam._ No, my lord, I'll fight. _Leon._ You will! why, happy man be's dole! My brother, Are you so fond of your young prince, as we Do seem to be of ours? _Pol._ If at home, sir, 165 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; And with his varying childness cures in me 170 Thoughts that would thick my blood. _Leon._ So stands this squire Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord, And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione, How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome; Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap: 175 Next to thyself and my young rover, he's Apparent to my heart. _Her._ If you would seek us, We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there? _Leon._ To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found, Be you beneath the sky. [_Aside_] I am angling now, 180 Though you perceive me not how I give line. Go to, go to! How she holds up the neb, the bill to him! And arms her with the boldness of a wife To her allowing husband! [_Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants._