The Winter's Tale (Folio 1, 1623)
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The Winters Tale.
¶She shall be habited, as it becomes
¶The partner of your Bed. Me thinkes I see
¶Leontes opening his free Armes, and weeping
¶He chides to Hell, and bids the other grow
¶Faster then Thought, or Time.
2420Flo. Worthy Camillo,
¶Hold vp before him?
¶Cam. Sent by the King your Father
¶To greet him, and to giue him comforts. Sir,
2425The manner of your bearing towards him, with
¶What you (as from your Father) shall deliuer,
¶Things knowne betwixt vs three, Ile write you downe,
2430But that you haue your Fathers Bosome there,
¶And speake his very Heart.
¶Flo. I am bound to you:
2435Then a wild dedication of your selues
¶To vnpath'd Waters, vndream'd Shores; most certaine,
¶To Miseries enough: no hope to helpe you,
¶But as you shake off one, to take another:
¶Nothing so certaine, as your Anchors, who
¶Where you'le be loth to be: besides you know,
¶Prosperitie's the very bond of Loue,
¶Affliction alters.
¶I thinke Affliction may subdue the Cheeke,
¶But not take-in the Mind.
2450Be borne another such.
¶Flo. My good Camillo,
¶She's as forward, of her Breeding, as
¶She is i'th' reare' our Birth.
¶To most that teach.
¶Perd. Your pardon Sir, for this,
¶Ile blush you Thanks.
2460But O, the Thornes we stand vpon: (Camillo)
¶Preseruer of my Father, now of me,
¶We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's Sonne,
¶Nor shall appeare in Sicilia.
2465Cam. My Lord,
¶Feare none of this: I thinke you know my fortunes
¶To haue you royally appointed, as if
¶The Scene you play, were mine. For instance Sir,
2470That you may know you shall not want: one word.
¶
Enter Autolicus.
¶Aut. Ha, ha, what a Foole Honestie is? and Trust (his
¶all my Tromperie: not a counterfeit Stone, not a Ribbon,
¶Tape, Gloue, Shooe-tye, Bracelet, Horne-Ring, to keepe
¶as if my Trinkets had beene hallowed, and brought a be-
¶Wenches Song, that hee would not stirre his Petty-toes,
2485of the Heard to me, that all their other Sences stucke in
¶Eares: you might haue pinch'd a Placket, it was sence-
¶would haue fill'd Keyes of that hung in Chaynes: no
¶hearing, no feeling, but my Sirs Song, and admiring the
2490Nothing of it. So that in this time of Lethargie, I pickd
¶old-man come in with a Whoo-bub against his Daugh-
¶ter, and the Kings Sonne, and scar'd my Chowghes from
¶the Chaffe, I had not left a Purse aliue in the whole
2495Army.
¶Cam. Nay, but my Letters by this meanes being there
2500Perd. Happy be you:
¶Cam. Who haue we here?
¶Wee'le make an Instrument of this: omit
¶Nothing may giue vs aide.
2505Aut. If they haue ouer-heard me now: why hanging.
¶Cam. How now (good Fellow)
¶Here's no harme intended to thee.
¶Aut. I am a poore Fellow, Sir.
¶with this Gentleman: Though the penny-worth (on his
¶Aut. I am a poore Fellow, Sir: (I know ye well
¶enough.)
¶fled already.
¶conscience take it.
¶Cam. Vnbuckle, vnbuckle.
¶And pluck it ore your Browes, muffle your face,
¶Dis-mantle you, and (as you can) disliken
2530The truth of your owne seeming, that you may
¶(For I doe feare eyes ouer) to Ship-boord
¶Get vndescry'd.
¶That I must beare a part.
2535Cam. No remedie:
¶Haue you done there?
¶Flo. Should I now meet my Father,
¶He would not call me Sonne.
2540Come Lady, come: Farewell (my friend.)
¶Aut. Adieu, Sir.
¶Flo. O Perdita: what haue we twaine forgot?
'Pray
