Enter Hermione, Mamillius and Ladies.
HERMIONE.
Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
’Tis past enduring.
FIRST LADY.
Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your playfellow?
MAMILLIUS.
No, I’ll none of you.
FIRST LADY.
Why, my sweet lord?
MAMILLIUS.
You’ll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if
I were a baby still. I love you better.
SECOND LADY.
And why so, my lord?
MAMILLIUS.
Not for because
Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
SECOND LADY.
Who taught this?
MAMILLIUS.
I learn’d it out of women’s faces. Pray now,
What colour are your eyebrows?