Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Hardin Aasand
Peer Reviewed

The Winter's Tale (Folio 1, 1623)


1795
Scena Quarta.
Enter Florizell, Perdita, Shepherd, Clowne, Polixenes, Ca-
millo, Mopsa, Dorcas, Seruants, Autolicus.
Flo. These your vnvsuall weeds, to each part of you
Do's giue a life: no Shepherdesse, but Flora
1800Peering in Aprils front. This your sheepe-shearing,
Is as a meeting of the petty Gods,
And you the Queene on't.
Perd. Sir: my gracious Lord,
To chide at your extreames, it not becomes me:
1805(Oh pardon, that I name them:) your high selfe
The gracious marke o'th' Land, you haue obscur'd
With a Swaines wearing: and me (poore lowly Maide)
Most Goddesse-like prank'd vp: But that our Feasts
In euery Messe, haue folly; and the Feeders
1810Digest with a Custome, I should blush
To see you so attyr'd: sworne I thinke,
To shew my selfe a glasse.
Flo. I blesse the time
When my good Falcon, made her flight a-crosse
1815Thy Fathers ground.
Perd. Now Ioue affoord you cause:
To me the difference forges dread (your Greatnesse
Hath not beene vs'd to feare:) euen now I tremble
To thinke your Father, by some accident
1820Should passe this way, as you did: Oh the Fates,
How would he looke, to see his worke, so noble,
Vildely bound vp? What would he say? Or how
Should I (in these my borrowed Flaunts) behold
The sternnesse of his presence?
1825Flo. Apprehend
Nothing but iollity: the Goddes themselues
(Humbling their Deities to loue) haue taken
The shapes of Beasts vpon them. Iupiter,
Became a Bull, and bellow'd: the greene Neptune
1830A Ram, and bleated: and the Fire-roab'd-God
Golden Apollo, a poore humble Swaine,
As I seeme now. Their transformations,
Were neuer for a peece of beauty, rarer,
Nor in a way so chaste: since my desires
1835Run not before mine honor: nor my Lusts
Burne hotter then my Faith.
Perd. O but Sir,
Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd (as it must be) by th' powre of the King:
1840One of these two must be necessities,
Which then will speake, that you must change this pur-
Or I my life.
Flo. Thou deer'st Perdita,
With these forc'd thoughts, I prethee darken not
1845The Mirth o'th' Feast: Or Ile be thine (my Faire)
Or not my Fathers. For I cannot be
Mine owne, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
Though destiny say no. Be merry (Gentle)
1850Strangle such thoughts as these, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are comming:
Lift vp your countenance, as it were the day
Of celebration of that nuptiall, which
We two haue sworne shall come.
1855Perd. O Lady Fortune,
Stand you auspicious.
Flo. See, your Guests approach,
Addresse your selfe to entertaine them sprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.
1860Shep. Fy (daughter) when my old wife liu'd: vpon
This day, she was both Pantler, Butler, Cooke,
Both Dame and Seruant: Welcom'd all: seru'd all,
Would sing her song, and dance her turne: now heere
At vpper end o'th Table; now, i'th middle:
1865On his shoulder, and his: her face o' fire
With labour, and the thing she tooke to quench it
She would to each one sip. You are retyred,
As if you were a feasted one: and not
The Hostesse of the meeting: Pray you bid
1870These vnknowne friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make vs better Friends, more knowne.
Come, quench your blushes, and present your selfe
That which you are, Mistris o'th' Feast. Come on,
And bid vs welcome to your sheepe-shearing,
1875As your good flocke shall prosper.
Perd. Sir, welcome:
It is my Fathers will, I should take on mee
The Hostesseship o'th' day: you're welcome sir.
Giue me those Flowres there (Dorcas.) Reuerend Sirs,
1880For you, there's Rosemary, and Rue, these keepe
Seeming, and sauour all the Winter long:
Grace, and Remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our Shearing.
Pol. Shepherdesse,
1885(A faire one are you:) well you fit our ages
With flowres of Winter.
Perd. Sir, the yeare growing ancient,
Not yet on summers death, nor on the birth
Of trembling winter, the fayrest flowres o'th season
1890Are our Carnations, and streak'd Gilly-vors,
(Which some call Natures bastards) of that kind
Our rusticke Gardens barren, and I care not
To get slips of them.
Pol. Wherefore (gentle Maiden)
1895Do you neglect them.
Perd. For I haue heard it said,
There is an Art, which in their pidenesse shares
With great creating-Nature.
Pol. Say there be:
1900Yet Nature is made better by no meane,
But Nature makes that Meane: so ouer that Art,
(Which you say addes to Nature) is an Art
That Nature makes: you see (sweet Maid) we marry
A gentler Sien, to the wildest Stocke,
1905And make conceyue a barke of baser kinde
By bud of Nobler race. This is an Art
Which do's mend Nature: change it rather, but
The Art it selfe, is Nature.
Perd. So it is.
1910Pol. Then make you Garden rich in Gilly' vors,
And do not call them bastards.
Perd. Ile not put
The Dible in earth, to set one slip of them:
No more then were I painted, I would wish
1915This youth should say 'twer well: and onely therefore
Desire to breed by me. Here's flowres for you:
Hot Lauender, Mints, Sauory, Mariorum,
The Mary-gold, that goes to bed with' Sun,
And with him rises, weeping: These are flowres
1920Of middle summer, and I thinke they are giuen
To men of middle age. Y'are very welcome.
Cam. I should leaue grasing, were I of your flocke,
And onely liue by gazing.
Perd. Out alas:
1925You'ld be so leane, that blasts of Ianuary
Would blow you through and through. Now (my fairst
I would I had some Flowres o'th Spring, that might
Become your time of day: and yours, and yours,
That weare vpon your Virgin-branches yet
1930Your Maiden-heads growing: O Proserpina,
For the Flowres now, that (frighted) thou let'st fall
From Dysses Waggon: Daffadils,
That come before the Swallow dares, and take
The windes of March with beauty: Violets (dim,
1935But sweeter then the lids of Iuno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath) pale Prime-roses,
That dye vnmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength (a Maladie
Most incident to Maids:) bold Oxlips, and
1940The Crowne Imperiall: Lillies of all kinds,
(The Flowre-de-Luce being one.) O, these I lacke,
To make you Garlands of) and my sweet friend,
To strew him o're, and ore.
Flo. What? like a Coarse?
1945Perd. No, like a banke, for Loue to lye, and play on:
Not like a Coarse: or if: not to be buried,
But quicke, and in mine armes. Come, take your flours,
Me thinkes I play as I haue seene them do
In Whitson-Pastorals: Sure this Robe of mine
1950Do's change my disposition:
Flo. What you do,
Still betters what is done. When you speake (Sweet)
I'ld haue you do it euer: When you sing,
I'ld haue you buy, and sell so: so giue Almes,
1955Pray so: and for the ord'ring your Affayres,
To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you
A waue o'th Sea, that you might euer do
Nothing but that: moue still, still so:
And owne no other Function. Each your doing,
1960(So singular, in each particular)
Crownes what you are doing, in the present deeds,
That all your Actes, are Queenes.
Perd. O Doricles,
Your praises are too large: but that your youth
1965And the true blood which peepes fairely through't,
Do plainly giue you out an vnstain'd Shepherd
With wisedome, I might feare (my Doricles)
You woo'd me the false way.
Flo. I thinke you haue
1970As little skill to feare, as I haue purpose
To put you to't. But come, our dance I pray,
Your hand (my Perdita:) so Turtles paire
That neuer meane to part.
Perd. Ile sweare for 'em.
1975Pol. This is the prettiest Low-borne Lasse, that euer
Ran on the greene-sord: Nothing she do's, or seemes
But smackes of something greater then her selfe,
Too Noble for this place.
Cam. He tels her something
1980That makes her blood looke on't: Good sooth she is
The Queene of Curds and Creame.
Clo. Come on: strike vp.
Dorcas. Mopsa must be your Mistris: marry Garlick
to mend her kissing with.
1985Mop. Now in good time.
Clo. Not a word, a word, we stand vpon our manners,
Come, strike vp.
Heere a Daunce of Shepheards and
Shephearddesses.
1990Pol. Pray good Shepheard, what faire Swaine is this,
Which dances with your daughter?
Shep. They call him Doricles, and boasts himselfe
To haue a worthy Feeding; but I haue it
Vpon his owne report, and I beleeue it:
1995He lookes like sooth: he sayes he loues my daughter,
I thinke so too; for neuer gaz'd the Moone
Vpon the water, as hee'l stand and reade
As 'twere my daughters eyes: and to be plaine,
I thinke there is not halfe a kisse to choose
2000Who loues another best.
Pol. She dances featly.
Shep. So she do's any thing, though I report it
That should be silent: If yong Doricles
Do light vpon her, she shall bring him that
2005Which he not dreames of.
Enter Seruant.
Ser. O Master: if you did but heare the Pedler at the
doore, you would neuer dance againe after a Tabor and
Pipe: no, the Bag-pipe could not moue you: hee singes
seuerall Tunes, faster then you'l tell money: hee vtters
2010them as he had eaten ballads, and all mens eares grew to
his Tunes.
Clo. He could neuer come better: hee shall come in:
I loue a ballad but euen too well, if it be dolefull matter
merrily set downe: or a very pleasant thing indeede, and
2015sung lamentably.
Ser. He hath songs for man, or woman, of all sizes:
No Milliner can so fit his customers with Gloues: he has
the prettiest Loue-songs for Maids, so without bawdrie
(which is strange,) with such delicate burthens of Dil-
2020do's and Fadings: Iump-her, and thump-her; and where
some stretch-mouth'd Rascall, would (as it were) meane
mischeefe, and breake a fowle gap into the Matter, hee
makes the maid to answere, Whoop, doe me no harme good
man: put's him off, slights him, with Whoop, doe mee no
2025harme good man.
Pol. This is a braue fellow.
Clo. Beleeue mee, thou talkest of an admirable con-
ceited fellow, has he any vnbraided Wares?
Ser. Hee hath Ribbons of all the colours i'th Raine-
2030bow; Points, more then all the Lawyers in Bohemia, can
learnedly handle, though they come to him by th' grosse:
Inckles, Caddysses, Cambrickes, Lawnes: why he sings
em ouer, as they were Gods, or Goddesses: you would
thinke a Smocke were a shee-Angell, he so chauntes to
2035the sleeue-hand, and the worke about the square on't.
Clo. Pre'thee bring him in, and let him approach sin-
ging.
Perd. Forewarne him, that he vse no scurrilous words
in's tunes.
2040Clow. You haue of these Pedlers, that haue more in
them, then youl'd thinke (Sister.)
Perd. I, good brother, or go about to thinke.
Enter Autolicus singing.
Lawne as white as driuen Snow,
2045 Cypresse blacke as ere was Crow,
Gloues as sweete as Damaske Roses,
Maskes for faces, and for noses:
Bugle-bracelet, Necke-lace Amber,
Perfume for a Ladies Chamber:
2050 Golden Quoifes, and Stomachers
For my Lads, to giue their deers:
Pins, and poaking-stickes of steele.
What Maids lacke from head to heele:
Come buy of me, come: come buy, come buy,
2055 Buy Lads, or else your Lasses cry: Come buy.
Clo. If I were not in loue with Mopsa, thou shouldst
take no money of me, but being enthrall'd as I am, it will
also be the bondage of certaine Ribbons and Gloues.
Mop. I was promis'd them against the Feast, but they
2060come not too late now.
Dor. He hath promis'd you more then that, or there
be lyars.
Mop. He hath paid you all he promis'd you: 'May be
he has paid you more, which will shame you to giue him
2065againe.
Clo. Is there no manners left among maids? Will they
weare their plackets, where they should bear their faces?
Is there not milking-time? When you are going to bed?
Or kill-hole? To whistle of these secrets, but you must
2070be tittle-tatling before all our guests? 'Tis well they are
whispring: clamor your tongues, and not a word more.
Mop. I haue done; Come you promis'd me a tawdry-
lace, and a paire of sweet Gloues.
Clo. Haue I not told thee how I was cozen'd by the
2075way, and lost all my money.
Aut. And indeed Sir, there are Cozeners abroad, ther-
fore it behooues men to be wary.
Clo. Feare not thou man, thou shalt lose nothing here
Aut. I hope so sir, for I haue about me many parcels
2080of charge.
Clo. What hast heere? Ballads?
Mop. Pray now buy some: I loue a ballet in print, a
life, for then we are sure they are true.
Aut. Here's one, to a very dolefull tune, how a Vsu-
2085rers wife was brought to bed of twenty money baggs at
a burthen, and how she long'd to eate Adders heads, and
Toads carbonado'd.
Mop. Is it true, thinke you?
Aut. Very true, and but a moneth old..
2090Dor. Blesse me from marrying a Vsurer.
Aut. Here's the Midwiues name to't: one Mist. Tale-
Porter, and fiue or six honest Wiues, that were present.
Why should I carry lyes abroad?
Mop. 'Pray you now buy it.
2095Clo. Come-on, lay it by: and let's first see moe Bal-
lads: Wee'l buy the other things anon.
Aut. Here's another ballad of a Fish, that appeared
vpon the coast, on wensday the fourescore of April, fortie
thousand fadom aboue water, & sung this ballad against
2100the hard hearts of maids: it was thought she was a Wo-
man, and was turn'd into a cold fish, for she wold not ex-
change flesh with one that lou'd her: The Ballad is very
pittifull, and as true.
Dor. Is it true too, thinke you.
2105Autol. Fiue Iustices hands at it, and witnesses more
then my packe will hold.
Clo. Lay it by too; another.
Aut. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.
Mop. Let's haue some merry ones.
2110Aut. Why this is a passing merry one, and goes to the
tune of two maids wooing a man: there's scarse a Maide
westward but she sings it: 'tis in request, I can tell you.
Mop. We can both sing it: if thou'lt beare a part, thou
shalt heare, 'tis in three parts.
2115Dor. We had the tune on't, a month agoe.
Aut. I can beare my part, you must know 'tis my oc-
cupation: Haue at it with you:
SongGet you hence, for I must goe
Aut. Where it fits not you to know.
2120Dor. Whether?
Mop. O whether?
Dor. Whether?
Mop. It becomes thy oath full well,
Thou to me thy secrets tell.
2125Dor: Me too: Let me go thether:
Mop: Or thou goest to th' Grange, or Mill,
Dor: If to either thou dost ill,
Aut: Neither.
Dor: What neither?
2130Aut: Neither:
Dor: Thou hast sworne my Loue to be,
Mop: Thou hast sworne it more to mee.
Then whether goest? Say whether?
Clo. Wee'l haue this song out anon by our selues: My
2135Father, and the Gent. are in sad talke, & wee'll not trouble
them: Come bring away thy pack after me, Wenches Ile
buy for you both: Pedler let's haue the first choice; folow
me girles.
Aut. And you shall pay well for 'em.
Song. Will you buy any Tape, or Lace for your Cape?
2140 My dainty Ducke, my deere-a?
Any Silke, any Thred, any Toyes for your head
Of the news't, and fins't, fins't weare-a.
Come to the Pedler, Money's a medler,
That doth vtter all mens ware-a.
Exit
2145Seruant. Mayster, there is three Carters, three Shep-
herds, three Neat-herds, three Swine-herds y haue made
themselues all men of haire, they cal themselues Saltiers,
and they haue a Dance, which the Wenches say is a gal-
ly-maufrey of Gambols, because they are not in't: but
2150they themselues are o'th' minde (if it bee not too rough
for some, that know little but bowling) it will please
plentifully.
Shep. Away: Wee'l none on't; heere has beene too
much homely foolery already. I know (Sir) wee wea-
2155rie you.
Pol. You wearie those that refresh vs: pray let's see
these foure-threes of Heardsmen.
Ser. One three of them, by their owne report (Sir,)
hath danc'd before the King: and not the worst of the
2160three, but iumpes twelue foote and a halfe by th' squire.
Shep. Leaue your prating, since these good men are
pleas'd, let them come in: but quickly now.
Ser. Why, they stay at doore Sir.
Heere a Dance of twelue Satyres.
2165Pol. O Father, you'l know more of that heereafter:
Is it not too farre gone? 'Tis time to part them,
He's simple, and tels much. How now (faire shepheard)
Your heart is full of something, that do's take
Your minde from feasting. Sooth, when I was yong,
2170And handed loue, as you do; I was wont
To load my Shee with knackes: I would haue ransackt
The Pedlers silken Treasury, and haue powr'd it
To her acceptance: you haue let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your Lasse
2175Interpretation should abuse, and call this
Your lacke of loue, or bounty, you were straited
For a reply at least, if you make a care
Of happie holding her.
Flo. Old Sir, I know
2180She prizes not such trifles as these are:
The gifts she lookes from me, are packt and lockt
Vp in my heart, which I haue giuen already,
But not deliuer'd. O heare me breath my life
Before this ancient Sir, whom (it should seeme)
2185Hath sometime lou'd: I take thy hand, this hand,
As soft as Doues-downe, and as white as it,
Or Ethyopians tooth, or the fan'd snow, that's bolted
By th' Northerne blasts, twice ore.
Pol. What followes this?
2190How prettily th' yong Swaine seemes to wash
The hand, was faire before? I haue put you out,
But to your protestation: Let me heare
What you professe.
Flo. Do, and be witnesse too't.
2195Pol. And this my neighbour too?
Flo. And he, and more
Then he, and men: the earth, the heauens, and all;
That were I crown'd the most Imperiall Monarch
Thereof most worthy: were I the fayrest youth
2200That euer made eye swerue, had force and knowledge
More then was euer mans, I would not prize them
Without her Loue; for her, employ them all,
Commend them, and condemne them to her seruice,
Or to their owne perdition.
2205Pol. Fairely offer'd.
Cam. This shewes a sound affection.
Shep. But my daughter,
Say you the like to him.
Per. I cannot speake
2210So well, (nothing so well) no, nor meane better
By th' patterne of mine owne thoughts, I cut out
The puritie of his.
Shep. Take hands, a bargaine;
And friends vnknowne, you shall beare witnesse to't:
2215I giue my daughter to him, and will make
Her Portion, equall his.
Flo. O, that must bee
I'th Vertue of your daughter: One being dead,
I shall haue more then you can dreame of yet,
2220Enough then for your wonder: but come-on,
Contract vs fore these Witnesses.
Shep. Come, your hand:
And daughter, yours.
Pol. Soft Swaine a-while, beseech you,
2225Haue you a Father?
Flo. I haue: but what of him?
Pol. Knowes he of this?
Flo. He neither do's, nor shall.
Pol. Me-thinkes a Father,
2230Is at the Nuptiall of his sonne, a guest
That best becomes the Table: Pray you once more
Is not your Father growne incapeable
Of reasonable affayres? Is he not stupid
With Age, and altring Rheumes? Can he speake? heare?
2235Know man, from man? Dispute his owne estate?
Lies he not bed-rid? And againe, do's nothing
But what he did, being childish?
Flo. No good Sir:
He has his health, and ampler strength indeede
2240Then most haue of his age.
Pol. By my white beard,
You offer him (if this be so) a wrong
Something vnfilliall: Reason my sonne
Should choose himselfe a wife, but as good reason
2245The Father (all whose ioy is nothing else
But faire posterity) should hold some counsaile
In such a businesse.
Flo. I yeeld all this;
But for some other reasons (my graue Sir)
2250Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My Father of this businesse.
Pol. Let him know't.
Flo. He shall not.
Pol. Prethee let him.
2255Flo. No, he must not.
Shep. Let him (my sonne) he shall not need to greeue
At knowing of thy choice.
Flo. Come, come, he must not:
Marke our Contract.
2260Pol. Marke your diuorce (yong sir)
Whom sonne I dare not call: Thou art too base
To be acknowledge. Thou a Scepters heire,
That thus affects a sheepe-hooke? Thou, old Traitor,
I am sorry, that by hanging thee, I can
2265But shorten thy life one weeke. And thou, fresh peece
Of excellent Witchcraft, whom of force must know
The royall Foole thou coap'st with.
Shep. Oh my heart.
Pol. Ile haue thy beauty scratcht with briers & made
2270More homely then thy state. For thee (fond boy)
If I may euer know thou dost but sigh,
That thou no more shalt neuer see this knacke (as neuer
I meane thou shalt) wee'l barre thee from succession,
Not hold thee of our blood, no not our Kin,
2275Farre then Deucalion off: (marke thou my words)
Follow vs to the Court. Thou Churle, for this time
(Though full of our displeasure) yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it. And you Enchantment,
Worthy enough a Heardsman: yea him too,
2280That makes himselfe (but for our Honor therein)
Vnworthy thee. If euer henceforth, thou
These rurall Latches, to his entrance open,
Or hope his body more, with thy embraces,
I will deuise a death, as cruell for thee
2285As thou art tender to't.
Exit.
Perd. Euen heere vndone:
I was not much a-fear'd: for once, or twice
I was about to speake, and tell him plainely,
The selfe-same Sun, that shines vpon his Court,
2290Hides not his visage from our Cottage, but
Lookes on alike. Wilt please you (Sir) be gone?
I told you what would come of this: Beseech you
Of your owne state take care: This dreame of mine
Being now awake, Ile Queene it no inch farther,
2295But milke my Ewes, and weepe.
Cam. Why how now Father,
Speake ere thou dyest.
Shep. I cannot speake, nor thinke,
Nor dare to know, that which I know: O Sir,
2300You haue vndone a man of fourescore three,
That thought to fill his graue in quiet: yea,
To dye vpon the bed my father dy'de,
To lye close by his honest bones; but now
Some Hangman must put on my shrowd, and lay me
2305Where no Priest shouels-in dust. Oh cursed wretch,
That knew'st this was the Prince, and wouldst aduenture
To mingle faith with him. Vndone, vndone:
If I might dye within this houre, I haue liu'd
To die when I desire.
Exit.
2310Flo. Why looke you so vpon me?
I am but sorry, not affear'd: delaid,
But nothing altred: What I was, I am:
More straining on, for plucking backe; not following
My leash vnwillingly.
2315Cam. Gracious my Lord,
You know my Fathers temper: at this time
He will allow no speech: (which I do ghesse
You do not purpose to him:) and as hardly
Will he endure your sight, as yet I feare;
2320Then till the fury of his Highnesse settle
Come not before him.
Flo. I not purpose it:
I thinke Camillo.
Cam. Euen he, my Lord.
2325Per. How often haue I told you 'twould be thus?
How often said my dignity would last
But till 'twer knowne?
Flo. It cannot faile, but by
The violation of my faith, and then
2330Let Nature crush the sides o'th earth together,
And marre the seeds within. Lift vp thy lookes:
From my succession wipe me (Father) I
Am heyre to my affection.
Cam. Be aduis'd.
2335Flo. I am: and by my fancie, if my Reason
Will thereto be obedient: I haue reason:
If not, my sences better pleas'd with madnesse,
Do bid it welcome.
Cam. This is desperate (sir.)
2340Flo. So call it: but it do's fulfill my vow:
I needs must thinke it honesty. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the pompe that may
Be thereat gleaned: for all the Sun sees, or
The close earth wombes, or the profound seas, hides
2345In vnknowne fadomes, will I breake my oath
To this my faire belou'd: Therefore, I pray you,
As you haue euer bin my Fathers honour'd friend,
When he shall misse me, as (in faith I meane not
To see him any more) cast your good counsailes
2350Vpon his passion: Let my selfe, and Fortune
Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
And so deliuer, I am put to Sea
With her, who heere I cannot hold on shore:
And most opportune to her neede, I haue
2355A Vessell rides fast by, but not prepar'd
For this designe. What course I meane to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concerne me the reporting.
Cam. O my Lord,
2360I would your spirit were easier for aduice,
Or stronger for your neede.
Flo. Hearke Perdita,
Ile heare you by and by.
Cam. Hee's irremoueable,
2365Resolu'd for flight: Now were I happy if
His going, I could frame to serue my turne,
Saue him from danger, do him loue and honor,
Purchase the sight againe of deere Sicillia,
And that vnhappy King, my Master, whom
2370I so much thirst to see.
Flo. Now good Camillo,
I am so fraught with curious businesse, that
I leaue out ceremony.
Cam. Sir, I thinke
2375You haue heard of my poore seruices, i'th loue
That I haue borne your Father?
Flo. Very nobly
Haue you deseru'd: It is my Fathers Musicke
To speake your deeds: not little of his care
2380To haue them recompenc'd, as thought on.
Cam. Well (my Lord)
If you may please to thinke I loue the King,
And through him, what's neerest to him, which is
Your gracious selfe; embrace but my direction,
2385If your more ponderous and setled proiect
May suffer alteration. On mine honor,
Ile point you where you shall haue such receiuing
As shall become your Highnesse, where you may
Enioy your Mistris; from the whom, I see
2390There's no disiunction to be made, but by
(As heauens forefend) your ruine: Marry her,
And with my best endeuours, in your absence,
Your discontenting Father, striue to qualifie
And bring him vp to liking.
2395Flo. How Camillo
May this (almost a miracle) be done?
That I may call thee something more then man,
And after that trust to thee.
Cam. Haue you thought on
2400A place whereto you'l go?
Flo. Not any yet:
But as th' vnthought-on accident is guiltie
To what we wildely do, so we professe
Our selues to be the slaues of chance, and flyes
2405Of euery winde that blowes.
Cam. Then list to me:
This followes, if you will not change your purpose
But vndergo this flight: make for Sicillia,
And there present your selfe, and your fayre Princesse,
2410(For so I see she must be) 'fore Leontes;
She shall be habited, as it becomes
The partner of your Bed. Me thinkes I see
Leontes opening his free Armes, and weeping
His Welcomes forth: asks thee there Sonne forgiuenesse,
2415As 'twere i'th' Fathers person: kisses the hands
Of your fresh Princesse; ore and ore diuides him,
'Twixt his vnkindnesse, and his Kindnesse: th' one
He chides to Hell, and bids the other grow
Faster then Thought, or Time.
2420Flo. Worthy Camillo,
What colour for my Visitation, shall I
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,
The which shall point you forth at euery sitting
What you must say: that he shall not perceiue,
2430But that you haue your Fathers Bosome there,
And speake his very Heart.
Flo. I am bound to you:
There is some sappe in this.
Cam. A Course more promising,
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
2440Doe their best office, if they can but stay you,
Where you'le be loth to be: besides you know,
Prosperitie's the very bond of Loue,
Whose fresh complexion, and whose heart together,
Affliction alters.
2445Perd. One of these is true:
I thinke Affliction may subdue the Cheeke,
But not take-in the Mind.
Cam. Yea? say you so?
There shall not, at your Fathers House, these seuen yeeres
2450Be borne another such.
Flo. My good Camillo,
She's as forward, of her Breeding, as
She is i'th' reare' our Birth.
Cam. I cannot say, 'tis pitty
2455She lacks Instructions, for she seemes a Mistresse
To most that teach.
Perd. Your pardon Sir, for this,
Ile blush you Thanks.
Flo. My prettiest Perdita.
2460But O, the Thornes we stand vpon: (Camillo)
Preseruer of my Father, now of me,
The Medicine of our House: how shall we doe?
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
Doe all lye there: it shall be so my care,
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
sworne brother) a very simple Gentleman. I haue sold
all my Tromperie: not a counterfeit Stone, not a Ribbon,
2475Glasse, Pomander, Browch, Table-booke, Ballad, Knife,
Tape, Gloue, Shooe-tye, Bracelet, Horne-Ring, to keepe
my Pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first,
as if my Trinkets had beene hallowed, and brought a be-
nediction to the buyer: by which meanes, I saw whose
2480Purse was best in Picture; and what I saw, to my good
vse, I remembred. My Clowne (who wants but some-
thing to be a reasonable man) grew so in loue with the
Wenches Song, that hee would not stirre his Petty-toes,
till he had both Tune and Words, which so drew the rest
2485of the Heard to me, that all their other Sences stucke in
Eares: you might haue pinch'd a Placket, it was sence-
lesse; 'twas nothing to gueld a Cod-peece of a Purse: I
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
and cut most of their Festiuall Purses: And had not the
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
So soone as you arriue, shall cleare that doubt.
Flo. And those that you'le procure from King Leontes?
Cam. Shall satisfie your Father.
2500Perd. Happy be you:
All that you speake, shewes faire.
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)
Why shak'st thou so? Feare not (man)
Here's no harme intended to thee.
Aut. I am a poore Fellow, Sir.
2510Cam. Why, be so still: here's no body will steale that
from thee: yet for the out-side of thy pouertie, we must
make an exchange; therefore dis-case thee instantly (thou
must thinke there's a necessitie in't) and change Garments
with this Gentleman: Though the penny-worth (on his
2515side) be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot.
Aut. I am a poore Fellow, Sir: (I know ye well
enough.)
Cam. Nay prethee dispatch: the Gentleman is halfe
fled already.
2520Aut. Are you in earnest, Sir? (I smell the trick on't.)
Flo. Dispatch, I prethee.
Aut. Indeed I haue had Earnest, but I cannot with
conscience take it.
Cam. Vnbuckle, vnbuckle.
2525Fortunate Mistresse (let my prophecie
Come home to ye:) you must retire your selfe
Into some Couert; take your sweet-hearts Hat
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.
Perd. I see the Play so lyes,
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.
Cam. Nay, you shall haue no Hat:
2540Come Lady, come: Farewell (my friend.)
Aut. Adieu, Sir.
Flo. O Perdita: what haue we twaine forgot?
'Pray you a word.
Cam. What I doe next, shall be to tell the King
2545Of this escape, and whither they are bound;
Wherein, my hope is, I shall so preuaile,
To force him after: in whose company
I shall re-view Sicilia; for whose sight,
I haue a Womans Longing.
2550Flo. Fortune speed vs:
Thus we set on (Camillo) to th' Sea-side.
Cam. The swifter speed, the better.
Exit.
Aut. I vnderstand the businesse, I heare it: to haue an
open eare, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for
2555a Cut-purse; a good Nose is requisite also, to smell out
worke for th' other Sences. I see this is the time that the
vniust man doth thriue. What an exchange had this been,
without boot? What a boot is here, with this exchange?
Sure the Gods doe this yeere conniue at vs, and we may
2560doe any thing extempore. The Prince himselfe is about
a peece of Iniquitie (stealing away from his Father, with
his Clog at his heeles:) if I thought it were a peece of ho-
nestie to acquaint the King withall, I would not do't: I
hold it the more knauerie to conceale it; and therein am
2565I constant to my Profession.
Enter Clowne and Shepheard.
Aside, aside, here is more matter for a hot braine: Euery
Lanes end, euery Shop, Church, Session, Hanging, yeelds
a carefull man worke.
2570Clowne. See, see: what a man you are now? there is no
other way, but to tell the King she's a Changeling, and
none of your flesh and blood.
Shep. Nay, but heare me.
Clow. Nay; but heare me.
2575Shep. Goe too then.
Clow. She being none of your flesh and blood, your
flesh and blood ha's not offended the King, and so your
flesh and blood is not to be punish'd by him. Shew those
things you found about her (those secret things, all but
2580what she ha's with her:) This being done, let the Law goe
whistle: I warrant you.
Shep. I will tell the King all, euery word, yea, and his
Sonnes prancks too; who, I may say, is no honest man,
neither to his Father, nor to me, to goe about to make me
2585the Kings Brother in Law.
Clow. Indeed Brother in Law was the farthest off you
could haue beene to him, and then your Blood had beene
the dearer, by I know how much an ounce.
Aut. Very wisely (Puppies.)
2590Shep. Well: let vs to the King: there is that in this
Farthell, will make him scratch his Beard.
Aut. I know not what impediment this Complaint
may be to the flight of my Master.
Clo. 'Pray heartily he be at' Pallace.
2595Aut. Though I am not naturally honest, I am so some-
times by chance: Let me pocket vp my Pedlers excre-
ment. How now (Rustiques) whither are you bound?
Shep. To th' Pallace (and it like your Worship.)
Aut. Your Affaires there? what? with whom? the
2600Condition of that Farthell? the place of your dwelling?
your names? your ages? of what hauing? breeding, and
any thing that is fitting to be knowne, discouer?
Clo. We are but plaine fellowes, Sir.
Aut. A Lye; you are rough, and hayrie: Let me haue
2605no lying; it becomes none but Trades-men, and they of-
ten giue vs (Souldiers) the Lye, but wee pay them for it
with stamped Coyne, not stabbing Steele, therefore they
doe not giue vs the Lye.
Clo. Your Worship had like to haue giuen vs one, if
2610you had not taken your selfe with the manner.
Shep. Are you a Courtier, and't like you Sir?
Aut. Whether it like me, or no, I am a Courtier. Seest
thou not the ayre of the Court, in these enfoldings? Hath
not my gate in it, the measure of the Court? Receiues not
2615thy Nose Court-Odour from me? Reflect I not on thy
Basenesse, Court-Contempt? Think'st thou, for that I
insinuate, at toaze from thee thy Businesse, I am there-
fore no Courtier? I am Courtier Cap-a-pe; and one that
will eyther push-on, or pluck-back, thy Businesse there:
2620whereupon I command thee to open thy Affaire.
Shep. My Businesse, Sir, is to the King.
Aut. What Aduocate ha'st thou to him?
Shep. I know not (and't like you.)
Clo. Aduocate's the Court-word for a Pheazant: say
2625you haue none.
Shep. None, Sir: I haue no Pheazant Cock, nor Hen.
Aut. How blessed are we, that are not simple men?
Yet Nature might haue made me as these are,
Therefore I will not disdaine.
2630Clo. This cannot be but a great Courtier.
Shep. His Garments are rich, but he weares them not
handsomely.
Clo. He seemes to be the more Noble, in being fanta-
sticall: A great man, Ile warrant; I know by the picking
2635on's Teeth.
Aut. The Farthell there? What's i'th' Farthell?
Wherefore that Box?
Shep. Sir, there lyes such Secrets in this Farthell and
Box, which none must know but the King, and which hee
2640shall know within this houre, if I may come to th' speech
of him.
Aut. Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
Shep. Why Sir?
Aut. The King is not at the Pallace, he is gone aboord
2645a new Ship, to purge Melancholy, and ayre himselfe: for
if thou bee'st capable of things serious, thou must know
the King is full of griefe.
Shep. So 'tis said (Sir:) about his Sonne, that should
haue marryed a Shepheards Daughter.
2650Aut. If that Shepheard be not in hand-fast, let him
flye; the Curses he shall haue, the Tortures he shall feele,
will breake the back of Man, the heart of Monster.
Clo. Thinke you so, Sir?
Aut. Not hee alone shall suffer what Wit can make
2655heauie, and Vengeance bitter; but those that are Iermaine
to him (though remou'd fiftie times) shall all come vnder
the Hang-man: which, though it be great pitty, yet it is
necessarie. An old Sheepe-whistling Rogue, a Ram-ten-
der, to offer to haue his Daughter come into grace? Some
2660say hee shall be ston'd: but that death is too soft for him
(say I:) Draw our Throne into a Sheep-Coat? all deaths
are too few, the sharpest too easie.
Clo. Ha's the old-man ere a Sonne Sir (doe you heare)
and't like you, Sir?
2665Aut. Hee ha's a Sonne: who shall be flayd aliue, then
'noynted ouer with Honey, set on the head of a Waspes
Nest, then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead:
then recouer'd againe with Aquavite, or some other hot
Infusion: then, raw as he is (and in the hotest day Progno-
2670stication proclaymes) shall he be set against a Brick-wall,
(the Sunne looking with a South-ward eye vpon him;
where hee is to behold him, with Flyes blown to death.)
But what talke we of these Traitorly-Rascals, whose mi-
series are to be smil'd at, their offences being so capitall?
2675Tell me (for you seeme to be honest plaine men) what you
haue to the King: being something gently consider'd, Ile
bring you where he is aboord, tender your persons to his
presence, whisper him in your behalfes; and if it be in
man, besides the King, to effect your Suites, here is man
2680shall doe it.
Clow. He seemes to be of great authoritie: close with
him, giue him Gold; and though Authoritie be a stub-
borne Beare, yet hee is oft led by the Nose with Gold:
shew the in-side of your Purse to the out-side of his
2685hand, and no more adoe. Remember ston'd, and flay'd
aliue.
Shep. And't please you (Sir) to vndertake the Businesse
for vs, here is that Gold I haue: Ile make it as much
more, and leaue this young man in pawne, till I bring it
2690you.
Aut. After I haue done what I promised?
Shep. I Sir.
Aut. Well, giue me the Moitie: Are you a partie in
this Businesse?
2695Clow. In some sort, Sir: but though my case be a pit-
tifull one, I hope I shall not be flayd out of it.
Aut. Oh, that's the case of the Shepheards Sonne:
hang him, hee'le be made an example.
Clow. Comfort, good comfort: We must to the King,
2700and shew our strange sights: he must know 'tis none of
your Daughter, nor my Sister: wee are gone else. Sir, I
will giue you as much as this old man do's, when the Bu-
sinesse is performed, and remaine (as he sayes) your pawne
till it be brought you.
2705Aut. I will trust you. Walke before toward the Sea-
side, goe on the right hand, I will but looke vpon the
Hedge, and follow you.
Clow. We are bless'd, in this man: as I may say, euen
bless'd.
2710Shep. Let's before, as he bids vs: he was prouided to
doe vs good.
Aut. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would
not suffer mee: shee drops Booties in my mouth. I am
courted now with a double occasion: (Gold, and a means
2715to doe the Prince my Master good; which, who knowes
how that may turne backe to my aduancement?) I will
bring these two Moales, these blind-ones, aboord him: if
he thinke it fit to shoare them againe, and that the Com-
plaint they haue to the King, concernes him nothing, let
2720him call me Rogue, for being so farre officious, for I am
proofe against that Title, and what shame else belongs
to't: To him will I present them, there may be matter in
it.
Exeunt.