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(Who 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 play'd, 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 honour, 'fore
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
As I weigh grief, which I would spare for honour,
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 caine,
With what encounter so uncurrent 1

Have strain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond
The bound of honour; or, in act, or will,
That way inclining; harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
Cry, Fie upon my grave!

Leon. 1 ne'er heard yet,

That any of these bolder vices wanted

Less impudence to gainsay what they did,
Than to perform it first.

Her. That's true enough;

Though 'tis a saying, Sir, not due to me.
Leon. You will not own it.

Her. More than mistress of,

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
(With whom I am accused,) I do confess,
loved him, as in honour he required;
With such a kind of love, as might become
A lady like me; with a love, even such,
So, and no other, as yourself commanded;
Which not to have done, I think, had been in me
Both disobedience and ingratitude,

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:
My life stands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.

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,
No father wning it, (which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee, than it,) so thou
Shall feel our justice; in whose easiest passage,
Look for no less than death.

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,
And first fruits of my body, from his presence
I am barr'd, like one infectious: my third comfort
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast
The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,
Haled out to murder :-Myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet; with modest hatred,
The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fashion:-Lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i' the open air, before
1 have got strength of limit. Now, my liege.
Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
That I should fear to die? Therefore, proceed.
But yet hear this; mistake me not ;-No! life,

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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,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.
[Exeunt certain Officers.
Her. The emperor of Russia was my father:
O, that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's trial! That he did but see
The flatness of my misery; yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge!

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,
You have not dared to break the holy seal,
Nor read the secrets in't.

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!
Her. Praised!

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!
Leon. What is the business?

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.-
I have too much believed mine own suspicion :-
'Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life.-Apollo, pardon.

[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;
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy :
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I choose
Camillo for the minister, to poison

My friend Polixenes; which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death, and with
Reward, did threaten and encourage him.
Not doing it, and being done: he, most humane,
And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp'd my practice; quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great; and to the certain hazard
Of all incertainties himself commended +,
No richer than his honour-How he glisters
Thorough my rust! And how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker!

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
Must I receive; whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny
Together working with thy jealousies,-
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine!-O, think, what they have done,
And then run mad, indeed; stark mad! For all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;
That did but shew thee, of a fool, inconstant,
And damnable ungrateful: nor was't much,
Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour,
To have him kill a king; poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter,
To be or none, or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire, ere done't:
Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince; whose honourable thoughts
(Thoughts high for one so tender,) cleft the heart
That could conceive, a gross and foolish sire
Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer: But the last,-0, lords,
When I have said, cry, woe!-The queen, the

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,
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry,
And frown upon us.

Ant. Their sacred wills be done!-Go, get aboard;
Look to thy bark; I'll not be long, before
I call upon thee.

Mar. Make your best haste; and go not
Too far 1' the land: 'tis like to be loud weather;
Besides, this place, is famous for the creatures
Of prey, that keep upon't.

Ant. Go thou away;
I'll follow instantly.

Mar. I am glad at heart
To be so rid of the business.
Ant. Come, poor babe :-

[Exit.

I have heard (but not believed,) the spirits of the
dead

May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another;
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,

So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach
My cabin where I lay, thrice bow'd before me;
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
Dia thus break from her: Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath.-

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
Tincture, or lustre, in her lip, her eye,

Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you
As I would do the gods.-But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.

Leon. Go on, go on:

Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
All tongues to talk their bitterest.

1 Lord. Say no more;

Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
I' the boldness of your speech.

Paul I am sorry for't;

All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent:-Alas, I have shew'd too much
The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd

To the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past
help,

Should be past grief: do not receive affliction
At my petition, I beseech you; rather
Let me be punish'd, that have minded you

Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal Sir, forgive a foolish woman:
The love I bore your queen,-lo, fool again!-
I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
Pil not remember you of my own lord,
Who is lost too: take your patience to you,
And I'll say nothing.

Leon. Thou didst speak but well,

When most the truth: which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my queen, and son:
One grave shall be for both; upon them shall
The causes of their death appear, unto
Our shame perpetual: once a day I'll visit
The chapel where they lie; and tears, shed there,
Shall be my recreation: so long as
Nature will bear up with this exercise,
So long I daily vow to use it. Come,
And lead me to these sorrows.

[Exeunt

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There werp, and leave it crying: and, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,

I prythee, call't: for this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
Thy wife Paulina, more:-And so, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect myself; and thought
This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
Yet, for this once, yea, superstitiously,
I will be squared by this. I do believe,
Hermione hath suffer'd death; and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
Of king Polixenes, it should here be laid,
Either for life, or death, upon the earth
Of its right father.- Blossom, speed thee well!
[Laying down the Child.
There lie; and there thy character: there these;
[Laying down a Bundle.
Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee,
pretty,

And still rest thine.-The storm begins:-Poor
wretch,

That, for thy mother's fault, art thus exposed
To loss, and what may follow!-Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am 1,
To be by oath enjoin'd to this.-Farewell!

The day frowns more and more; thou art like to
have

A lullaby too rongh: I never saw
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour ?-
Well may I get aboard!-This is the chace;
I am gone for ever. [Exit, pursued by a Bear.

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.
+ Child.
Female infant.

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,-
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
To use my wings. Impute it not a crime,
To me, or my swift passage, that I slide
O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried
Of that wide gap: since it is in my power
To o'erthrow law; and in one self-born hour
To plant and o'erwhelm custom : let me pass
The same I an., ere ancient'st order was,
Or what is now received: I witness to
The times that brought them in; so shall I do
To the freshest things now reigning; and make stale

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223

The glistering of this present, as my tale
Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,
I turn my glass; and give my scene such growing,
As you had slept between. Leontes leaving
The effects of his fond jealousies; so grieving,
That he shuts up himself; imagine me
Gentle spectators, that I now may be
In fair Bohemia; and remember well,
I mentioned a son o' the king's, which Florizel
I now name to you; and with speed so pace
To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace
Equal with wond'ring: what of her ensues,
I list not prophecy; but let Time's news
Be known, when 'tis brought forth :-A shepherd's
daughter
And what to her adheres, which follows after,
Is the argument of time: of this allow,
If ever you have spent time worse ere now;
If never yet, that Time himself doth say,
He wishes carnestly, you never may.

[Exit.

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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.

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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,-
Why then comes in the sweet o' the year;
For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.
The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,-

With, hey! The sweet birds, O, how they sing!
Doth set my pugging tooth on edge;

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,
wore three-pile ; but now I am out of service:
But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?
The pale moon shines by night:

And when I wander here and there,

I then do most go right.

If tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the sow-skin budget;
Then my account I well may give,

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. No, good-faced Sir; no, sweet Sir,
Clown. Then fare thee well; I must go buy spices
for our sheep-shearing.

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,
And merrily hent the stile-a:
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.

[Erit.

SCENE III.-The same.-A Shepherd's Cottage.
Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA.

Flo. These your unusual weeds to each part of
you

Do give a life: no shepherdess; but Flora,
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the queen on't.

Per. Sir, my gracious lord,

To chide at your extremes ¶, it not becomes me;
O, pardon, that I name them: your high self,
The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured
With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts
In every mess have folly, and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, I should blush
To see you so attired; sworn, I think,
To shew myself a glass.

Flo. I bless the time,

When my good faicou made her flight across
Thy father's ground.

Per. Now Jove afford you cause!

To me, the difference # forges dread; your great

ness

• The machine used in the game of pigeon-holes.
+ Sojourn.
§ Thief.
Puppet-show.
Excesses.

Take hold of.
**Object of all men's notice.

+ Dressed with ostentation. #i. e. of station.

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purpose,

Or I my life.

Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,

With these forced thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o' the feast or I'll be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's; for I cannot be

Mine own, nor any thing to any, if

I be not thine: to this I am most constant,
Though destiny say, no. Be merry, gentle ;
Strangle such thoughts as these, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are com
ing.

Lift up your countenance; as it were the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which
We two have sworn shall come.

Per. O lady fortune,

Stand you auspicious!

Enter SHEPHERD, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO,
disguised; CLOWN, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others.
Flo. See, your guests approach:
Address yourself to entertain tl.em sprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fie, daughter! When my old wife lived,
upon

This day, she was both pantler, butter, cook;
Both dame and servant: welcomed all ; served all:
Would sing her song, and dance her turn: now
here,

At upper end o' the table, now, i' the middle;
On his shoulder, and his: her face o' fire

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You'd be so lean, that blasts of January
Would blow you through and through.-Now, my
fairest friend,

I would I had some flowers o' the spring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours;
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing:-0 Proserpina,

For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon! Daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phœbus in his strength; a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend,
To strew him o'er and o'er.

Flo. What? Like a corse?

Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on;
Not like a corse: or if,-not to be buried,
But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your

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,
As if you were a feasted one, and not
The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid
These unknown friends to us welcome: for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes; and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o' the feast: come on,
And bid us welcome, to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.
Per. Welcome, Sir!

[To Polizenes.
It is my father's will, I should take on me
The hostessship o' the day :-You're welcome, Sir!
[To Camillo.
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.-Reverend
Sirs,

For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep
Seeming, and savour t, all the winter long:
Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing!

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,
Which some call, nature's bastards: of that kind
Our rastic garden's barren; and I care not

To get slips of them.

Pul, Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it said,

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Does change my disposition.

Flo. What you do,

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
I'd have you do it ever : when you sing,
I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms;
Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,
To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own
No other function each your doing,
So singular in each particular,
Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are queens.
Per. O Doricles,

Your praises are too large; but that your youth,
And the true blood which fairly peeps through it,
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd;
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
You woo'd me the false way.

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 :
Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair,
That never mean to part.

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;
Too noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her something,

That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is
The queen of curds and cream.

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