have committed to your worship and to give me your good report to the prince my master. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen. Thou wilt amend thy life? Ay, an it like your good worship. Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. You may say it, but not swear it. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins say it, I'll swear it. How if it be false, son? If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in the behalf of his friend: and I'll swear to the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be drunk: but I'll swear it, and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands. I will prove so, sir, to my power. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if I do not wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. Come, follow us: we'll be thy good masters. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort That I have had of thee! What, sovereign sir, I did not well I meant well. All my services You have paid home: but that you have vouchsafed, With your crown'd brother and these your contracted Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit, It is a surplus of your grace, which never My life may last to answer. O Paulina, We honour you with trouble: but we came To see the statue of our queen: your gallery Have we pass'd through, not without much content In many singularities; but we saw not That which my daughter came to look upon, The statue of her mother. As she lived peerless, So her dead likeness, I do well believe, Excels whatever yet you look'd upon Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare To see the life as lively mock'd as ever Still sleep mock'd death: behold, and say 'tis well. I like your silence, it the more shows off Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege, Comes it not something near? Her natural posture! Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed Thou art Hermione; or rather