uncurrent

Why ,
As by lot , God wot
and then , you know ,
It came to pass , as most like it was —
the first row of the pious chanson will show you
more , for look where my abridgment comes .



You are welcome , masters ; welcome all . — I am glad
to see thee well . — Welcome , good friends . — O my
old friend ! Why , thy face is valanced since I saw thee
last . Com’st thou to beard me in Denmark ? — What ,
my young lady and mistress ! By ’r Lady , your Ladyship ladyship
is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last , by
the altitude of a chopine . Pray God your voice , like a
piece of uncurrent gold , be not cracked within the
ring . Masters , you are all welcome . We’ll e’en to ’t
like French falconers , fly at anything we see . We’ll
have a speech straight . Come , give us a taste of your
quality . Come , a passionate speech .

Since what I am to say must be but that
Which contradicts my accusation , and
The testimony on my part no other
But what comes from myself , it shall scarce boot me
To say Not guilty . Mine integrity ,
Being counted falsehood , shall , as I express it ,
Be so received . But thus : if powers divine
Behold our human actions , as they do ,
I doubt not then but innocence shall make
False accusation blush and tyranny
Tremble at patience . You , my lord , best know ,
Whom least will seem to do so , my past life
Hath been as continent , as chaste , as true ,
As I am now unhappy ; which is more
Than history can pattern , though devised
And played to take spectators . For behold me ,
A fellow of the royal bed , which owe
A moiety of the throne , a great king’s daughter ,
The mother to a hopeful prince , here standing
To prate and talk for life and honor fore
Who please to come and hear . For life , I prize it
As I weigh grief , which I would spare . For honor ,
’Tis a derivative from me to mine ,
And only that I stand for . I appeal
To your own conscience , sir , before Polixenes
Came to your court , how I was in your grace ,
How merited to be so ; since he came ,
With what encounter so uncurrent I
Have strained t’ appear thus ; if one jot beyond
The bound of honor , or in act or will
That way inclining , hardened be the hearts
Of all that hear me , and my near’st of kin
Cry fie upon my grave .

My kind Antonio ,
I can no other answer make but thanks ,
And thanks , and ever thanks ; and oft good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay .
But were my worth , as is my conscience , firm ,
You should find better dealing . What’s to do ?
Shall we go see the relics of this town ?