vehemence he pressed his guest to stay longer. Polixenes refused firmly. He must indeed, within a day or two, set out for Bohemia.
Now, in the ill-balanced brain of Leontes, a fearful thought had been growing up,—a thought at first rejected, with contempt for himself in imagining so base a thing, bet which, having once come into his mind, would constantly come creeping back again. He had feared that his wife—his good and true Hermione—was too fond of Polixenes, and that he also had begun to return her feeling. So he urged Polixenes thus ardently to prolong his visit, that he might see if he had any ground for his suspicions. When he found that the Bohemian king would not be persuaded to stay, he called in Hermione to second his entreaties, and bade her ask his friend to remain. The queen came, and ready to give her husband pleasure, since she thought he had no motive but the gratification of his friendship, she urged Polixenes so prettily to stay, she plead so volubly when he tried to make excuses for his departure, that all his farewells were drowned in her persuasions, and at last he was forced to be silent from sheer breathlessness, and in default of words, to stay another week at Sicily.
But Leontes,—miserable Leontes! In his wife’s innocent desire to please him, he had imagined he saw a reluctance to let Polixenes go
