(Who least will seem to do so,) my past life A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, To your own conscience, Sir, before Polixenes Have strain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond Leon. 1 ne'er heard yet, That any of these bolder vices wanted Less impudence to gainsay what they did, Her. That's true enough; Though 'tis a saying, Sir, not due to me. Her. More than mistress of, Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not To you, and toward your friend; whose love had spoke, Evet. since it could speak, from an infant, freely, That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd For me to try how: all I know of it, Is, that Camillo was an honest man; And, why he left your court, the gods themselves, Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know What you have underta'en to do in his absence. Her. Sir, You speak a language that I understand not: Leon. Your actions are my dreams; You had a bastard by Polixenes, And I but dream'd it :-As you were past shame, (Those of your fact ‡ are so,) so past all truth: Which to deny, concerns more than avaiis: For as Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, Her. Sir, spare your threats; all The bug, which you would fright me with, I seek. To me can life be no commodity: The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, But know not how it went: my second joy, I prize me not a straw :-but for mine honour, (Which I would free,) if I shall be condemr.'d Upon surmises; all proofs sleeping else, But what your jealousies awake; I tell you, 'Tis rigour, and not law.-Your honours all, I do refer me to the oracle; Apollo be my judge. 1 Lord. This your request Is altogether just therefore, bring forth, Re-enter OFFICERS, with CLEOMENES and DION. Ofi. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have Been both at Delphos; and from thence have brought This seal'd up oracle, by the hand deliver'd Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then, Cleo. Dion. All this we swear. Leon. Break up the seals, and read. Oth. [Reads.] Hermione is chaste, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jeulous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten; and the king shall live without an heir, if that, which is lost, be not found Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo! Leon. Hast thou read truth? Offi. Ay, my lord; even so As it is here set down. Leon. There is no truth at all i' the oracle: The sessions shall proceed; this is mere falsehood: Enter a SERVANT, hastily. Serv. My lord the king, the king! Serv. O Sir, I shall be hated to report it: The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear Or the queen's speed, is gone. Leon. How! Gone? Serv. Is dead. Leon. Apollo's angry; and the heavens them selves Do strike at my injustice. [Hermione faints.] How now there? Paul. This news is mortal to the queen-Look down, And see what death is doing. Leon. Take her hence: Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover.- [Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, with HermioneMy great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle!P'il reconcile me to Polixenes; New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo; My friend Polixenes; which had been done, Re-enter PAULINA. Paul. Woe the while! O, cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it, Break too! 1 Lord. What fit is this, good lady? Of the event of the queen's trial, + Committed. Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels? Boiling, Racks? Fires? What flaying? In leads, or oils? What old, or newer torture queen, The sweetest, dearest, creature's dead; and vengeance for't Not dropp'd down yet. 1 Lord. The higher powers forbid ! Mar. Ay, my lord; and fear We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly, Ant. Their sacred wills be done!-Go, get aboard; Mar. Make your best haste; and go not Ant. Go thou away; Mar. I am glad at heart [Exit. I have heard (but not believed,) the spirits of the May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes, Paul. I say, she's dead; I'll swear't: if word, Places remote enough are in Bohemia, nor oath, Prevail not, go and see if you can bring Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you Leon. Go on, go on: Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved 1 Lord. Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault Paul I am sorry for't; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, To the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past Should be past grief: do not receive affliction Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, Leon. Thou didst speak but well, When most the truth: which I receive much better [Exeunt There werp, and leave it crying: and, for the babe I prythee, call't: for this ungentle business, And still rest thine.-The storm begins:-Poor That, for thy mother's fault, art thus exposed The day frowns more and more; thou art like to A lullaby too rongh: I never saw Enter an old SHEPHERD. Shep. I would, there were no age between ten and three and twenty; or that youth would sleep out the rest: for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.-Hark you now?Would any but these boil'd brains of nineteen, and two-and-twenty, hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my best sheep; which, I fear, the wolf will sooner find, than the master: if any where I have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browzing on ivy. Good luck, an't be thy will! What have we here? Taking up the Child.] Mercy on's, a barnet; avery pretty barne! A boy, or a child, I wonder? A pretty one; a very pretty one: sure, some scape: though I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This has been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some behind-door-work: they were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here. I'll take it up for pity: yet I'll tarry till my son come; he holia'd but even now. Whoa, ho hoa! The writing afterward discovered with Perdita. Enter CLOWN. Clown. Hillca, loa! Shep. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail'st thou, man? Clown. I have seen two such sights, by sea, and by land; but I am not to say, it is a sea, for it is now the sky; betwixt the firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkin's point. Shep. Why, boy, how is it? Clown. I would, you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! But that's not to the point: 0, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! Sometimes to see 'ein, and not to see 'em now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast; and anon swallow'd with yest and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land service.-To see how the bear, tore out his shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and said, his name was Antigonus, a nobleman :-But to make an end of the ship:-To see how the sea flap-dragon'd it:-but, first, how the poor souls roar'd, and the sea mock'd them ;-and how the poor gentleman roar'd, and the bear mock'd him, both roaring louder than the sea, or weather. Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy? Clown. Now, now; I have not wink'd since I saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman; he's at it now. Shep. Would I had been by, to have help'd the old mau! Clown. I would you had been by the ship side, to have help'd her; there your charity would have lack'd footing. [Aside. Shep. Heavy matters! Heavy matters! But look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself; thou met'st with things dying, I with things new born. Here's a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire's child! Look thee here; take up, take up, boy; open't. So, let's see ;-it was told me, I should be rich by the fairies: this is some changeling Open't: what's within, boy? Clown. You're a made old man; if the sins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! All gold! Shep. This is fairy gola, boy, and 'twill prove so: up with it, keep it close; home, home, the next way. We are lucky, boy; and to be so still, requires nothing but secrecy.-Let my sheep go:Come, good boy, the next way home. Clown. Go you the next way with your findings; I'll go see if the bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten; they are never curst but when they are hungry: if there be any of him left, I'll bury it. Shep. That's a good deed: if thou may'st discern by that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to the sight of him. Clown. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' the ground. Shep. Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good deeds on't. [Excunt. ACT IV. Enter TIME, as Chorus. Time. I, that please some, try all; both joy, and terror, Of good and bad; that make, and unfold error,- 223 The glistering of this present, as my tale [Exit. Enter POLIXENES and CAMILLO. Pol. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more im portunate: 'tis a sickness, denying thee any thing; a death, to grant this. Cam. It is fifteen years, since I saw my country: I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the peni though I have, for the most part, been air'd abroad, feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'ertent king, my master, hath sent for me: to whose weens to think so; which is another spur to my departure. Pol. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the I have of thee, thine own goodness hath made; betrest of thy services, by leaving me now: the need thou, having made me businesses, which none, ter not to have had thee, than thus to want thee: without thee, can sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute them thyself, or take away with have not enough consider'd, (as too much I cannot,) thee the very services thou hast done: which if I to be more thankful to thee, shall be my study; and my profit therein, the heaping friendships. more: whose very naming punishes me with the Of that fatal country Sicilia, pr'ythee speak no and reconciled king, my brother; whose loss of his remembrance of that penitent, as thou call'st him, to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw'st most precious queen, and children, are even now thou the prince Florizel my son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in loosing them, when they have approved their virtues. What his happier affairs may be, are to me unCam. Sir, it is three days, since I saw the prince : much retired from court; and is less frequent to known: but I have missingly, noted ¶, he is of late his princely exercises, than formerly he hath appear'd. Pol. I have considered so much, Camillo; and with some care, so far, that I have eyes under my service, which look upon his removedness: from whom I have this intelligence; That he is seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate. Cam. I have heard, Sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note: the report of her is extended more, than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. Pol. That's likewise part of my intelligence. But I fear the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place: where we will, not appearing what we are, have some question with the shepherd; from whose simplicity, I think it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Prythee, be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. Cam. I willingly obey your command. Pol. My best Camillo!-We must disguise our [Exeunt. selves. SCENE II.-The same.-A Road near the Shepherd's Cottage. Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing. When daffodils begin to peer,—— With, heigh! The doxy over the dale,- With, hey! The sweet birds, O, how they sing! For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that tirra-lirra chants, With, hey! With, hey! The thrush and the jay: Are summer songs for me and my aunts, While we lie tumbling in the hay. I have served prince Florizel, and, in my time, And when I wander here and there, I then do most go right. If tinkers may have leave to live, And in the stocks arouch it. My traffic is sheets! When the kite builds, look to lesser linen. My father named me, Autolycus; who, being, as I am, litter'd under Mercury, was likewise as napper-up of unconsider'd trifles: With die, and drab, I purchased this caparison; and my revenue is the silly cheat gallows, and knock, are too powerful on the highway: beating, and hanging, are terrors to me; for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it.-A prize! A prize! Enter CLOWN. Clown. Let me see :-Every 'leven wether-tods ¶: every tod yields-pound and odd shilling: fifteen hundred shorn,-What comes the wool to? Aut. If the springe hold, the cock's mine. [Aside. 'Clown. I cannot do't without counters.-Let me see; what I am to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of sugar; five pound of currants; rice What will this sister of mine do with rice? But my father hath made her mistress of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the shearers: three-man song-men ++ all, and very good ones; but they are most of them means and bases: but one Puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have saffron, to colour the warden pies 35; mace,-dates, none; that's out of my note: nutmegs seven; a race, or two, of ginger; but that I may beg ;-four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun. Aut. O, that ever I was born! [Grovelling on the Ground. Clown. I' the name of me,-Aut. O, help me, help me! Pluck but off these rags; and then, death, death! Clown. Alack, poor soul! Thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off. Aut. O, Sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more than the stripes I have received; which are mighty ones, and millions. Clown. Alas, poor man! A million of beating may come to a great matter. Aut. I am robb'd, Sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me. Clown. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man? Aut. A foot-man, sweet Sir, a foot-man. Clown. Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments he hath left with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee: come, lend me thy hand. [Helping him up. Aut. O! good Sir, tenderly, oh l • i. e. The spring blood reigns over the parts lately under the dominion of winter. + Thievish. 1 Doxies. Picking pockets. Rich velvet. Every eleven sheep will produce a tod, or twenty eight pounds of wool. Circular pieces of base metal, anciently used by the illiterate, to adjust their reckonings. + Singers of catches in three parts. Tenors. A species of pears. Clown. Alas, poor soul. Aut. O, good Sir, softly, good Sir: I fear, Sir, my shoulder-blade is out. Clown. How now? Canst stand? Aut. Softly, dear Sir; [Picks his pocket.] good Sir, softly: you ha' done me a charitable office. Clown. Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee. Aut. No, good sweet Sir; no, I beseech you, Sir: I have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I shall there have money, or any thing I want: offer me no money, I pray you; that kills my heart. Clown. What manner of fellow was he that robb'd you? Aut. A fellow, Sir, that I have known to go about with trol-my-dames: I knew him once a servant of the prince; I cannot tell, good Sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipp'd out of the court. Clown. His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipp'd out of the court; they cherish it, to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but abide t. Aut. Vices I would say, Sir. I know this man well: he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a bailiff; then he compass'd a motion of the prodigal son, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lies; and, having flown over many knavish profes sions, he settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus. Clown. Out upon him! Prig, for my life, prig: he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings. Aut. Very true, Sir; he, Sir, he; that's the rogue that put me into this apparel. Clown. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had but look'd big, and spit at him, he'd have run. Aut. I must confess to you, Sir, I am no fighter: I am false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant him. Clown. How do you now? Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can stand, and walk: I will even take my leave of you, and pace softly towards my kinsman's. Clown. Shall I bring thee on the way? Aut. Prosper you, sweet Sir!-[Exit Clown.] Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too: if I make not this cheat bring out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unroll'd, and my name put in the book of virtue ! Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, [Erit. SCENE III.-The same.-A Shepherd's Cottage. Flo. These your unusual weeds to each part of Do give a life: no shepherdess; but Flora, Per. Sir, my gracious lord, To chide at your extremes ¶, it not becomes me; Flo. I bless the time, When my good faicou made her flight across Per. Now Jove afford you cause! To me, the difference # forges dread; your great ness • The machine used in the game of pigeon-holes. Take hold of. + Dressed with ostentation. #i. e. of station. purpose, Or I my life. Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, With these forced thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not Mine own, nor any thing to any, if I be not thine: to this I am most constant, Lift up your countenance; as it were the day Per. O lady fortune, Stand you auspicious! Enter SHEPHERD, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO, Shep. Fie, daughter! When my old wife lived, This day, she was both pantler, butter, cook; At upper end o' the table, now, i' the middle; You'd be so lean, that blasts of January I would I had some flowers o' the spring, that might For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall That come before the swallow dares, and take Flo. What? Like a corse? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; flowers: Methinks, I play as I have seen then. do With labour; and the thing, she took to quench it, In Whitsun' pastorals: sure, this robe of mine She would to each one sip: you are retired, [To Polizenes. For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep Pol. Shepherdess, (A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages With flowers of winter. Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter,-the fairest flowers o' the season Are our carnations, and streak'd gillyflowers, To get slips of them. Pul, Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. For I have heard it said, Does change my disposition. Flo. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, Your praises are too large; but that your youth, Flo. I think you have As little skill to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't.-But, come; our dance, I pray : Per. I'll swear for 'em. Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Ran on the green-sward ; nothing she does, or seems But smacks of something greater than herself; Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is |