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Plaintext
The Winter's Tale
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by William Shakespeare
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Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine
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with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles
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Folger Shakespeare Library
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https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/the-winters-tale/
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Created on Apr 12, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.2
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Characters in the Play
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======================
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LEONTES, King of Sicilia
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HERMIONE, Queen of Sicilia
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MAMILLIUS, their son
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PERDITA, their daughter
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POLIXENES, King of Bohemia
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FLORIZELL, his son
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CAMILLO, a courtier, friend to Leontes and then to Polixenes
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ANTIGONUS, a Sicilian courtier
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PAULINA, his wife and lady-in-waiting to Hermione
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Courtiers in Sicilia:
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CLEOMENES
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DION
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EMILIA, a lady-in-waiting to Hermione
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SHEPHERD, foster father to Perdita
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SHEPHERD'S SON
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AUTOLYCUS, former servant to Florizell, now a rogue
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ARCHIDAMUS, a Bohemian courtier
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TIME, as Chorus
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TWO LADIES attending on Hermione
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LORDS, SERVANTS, and GENTLEMEN attending on Leontes
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An OFFICER of the court
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A MARINER
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A JAILER
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Shepherdesses in Bohemia:
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MOPSA
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DORCAS
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SERVANT to the Shepherd
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SHEPHERDS and SHEPHERDESSES
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Twelve COUNTRYMEN disguised as satyrs
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ACT 1
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=====
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Scene 1
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=======
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[Enter Camillo and Archidamus.]
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ARCHIDAMUS If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia
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on the like occasion whereon my services
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are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great
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difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.
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CAMILLO I think this coming summer the King of
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Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which
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he justly owes him.
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ARCHIDAMUS Wherein our entertainment shall shame
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us; we will be justified in our loves. For indeed--
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CAMILLO Beseech you--
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ARCHIDAMUS Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my
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knowledge. We cannot with such magnificence--in
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so rare--I know not what to say. We will give you
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sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our
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insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as
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little accuse us.
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CAMILLO You pay a great deal too dear for what's given
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freely.
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ARCHIDAMUS Believe me, I speak as my understanding
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instructs me and as mine honesty puts it to
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utterance.
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CAMILLO Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia.
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They were trained together in their childhoods,
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and there rooted betwixt them then such an
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affection which cannot choose but branch now.
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Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities
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made separation of their society, their encounters,
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though not personal, hath been royally
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attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving
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embassies, that they have seemed to be together
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though absent, shook hands as over a vast, and
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embraced as it were from the ends of opposed
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winds. The heavens continue their loves.
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ARCHIDAMUS I think there is not in the world either
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malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable
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comfort of your young Prince Mamillius. It is a
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gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came
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into my note.
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CAMILLO I very well agree with you in the hopes of
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him. It is a gallant child--one that indeed physics
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the subject, makes old hearts fresh. They that went
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on crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to
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see him a man.
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ARCHIDAMUS Would they else be content to die?
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CAMILLO Yes, if there were no other excuse why they
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should desire to live.
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ARCHIDAMUS If the King had no son, they would desire
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to live on crutches till he had one.
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[They exit.]
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Scene 2
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=======
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[Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo,
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and Attendants.]
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POLIXENES
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Nine changes of the wat'ry star hath been
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The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
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Without a burden. Time as long again
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Would be filled up, my brother, with our thanks,
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And yet we should for perpetuity
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Go hence in debt. And therefore, like a cipher,
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Yet standing in rich place, I multiply
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With one "We thank you" many thousands more
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That go before it.
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LEONTES Stay your thanks awhile,
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And pay them when you part.
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POLIXENES Sir, that's tomorrow.
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I am questioned by my fears of what may chance
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Or breed upon our absence, that may blow
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No sneaping winds at home to make us say
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"This is put forth too truly." Besides, I have stayed
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To tire your Royalty.
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LEONTES We are tougher, brother,
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Than you can put us to 't.
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POLIXENES No longer stay.
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LEONTES
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One sev'nnight longer.
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POLIXENES Very sooth, tomorrow.
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LEONTES
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We'll part the time between 's, then, and in that
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I'll no gainsaying.
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POLIXENES Press me not, beseech you, so.
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There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' th'
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world,
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So soon as yours could win me. So it should now,
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Were there necessity in your request, although
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'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
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Do even drag me homeward, which to hinder
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Were in your love a whip to me, my stay
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To you a charge and trouble. To save both,
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Farewell, our brother.
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LEONTES Tongue-tied, our queen?
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Speak you.
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HERMIONE
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I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until
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You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,
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Charge him too coldly. Tell him you are sure
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All in Bohemia's well. This satisfaction
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The bygone day proclaimed. Say this to him,
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He's beat from his best ward.
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LEONTES Well said, Hermione.
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HERMIONE
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To tell he longs to see his son were strong.
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But let him say so then, and let him go.
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But let him swear so and he shall not stay;
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We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
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[To Polixenes.] Yet of your royal presence I'll
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adventure
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The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
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You take my lord, I'll give him my commission
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To let him there a month behind the gest
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Prefixed for 's parting.--Yet, good deed, Leontes,
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I love thee not a jar o' th' clock behind
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What lady she her lord.--You'll stay?
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POLIXENES No, madam.
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HERMIONE
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Nay, but you will?
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POLIXENES I may not, verily.
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HERMIONE Verily?
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You put me off with limber vows. But I,
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Though you would seek t' unsphere the stars with
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oaths,
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Should yet say "Sir, no going." Verily,
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You shall not go. A lady's "verily" is
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As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
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Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
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Not like a guest, so you shall pay your fees
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When you depart and save your thanks. How say you?
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My prisoner or my guest? By your dread "verily,"
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One of them you shall be.
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POLIXENES Your guest, then, madam.
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To be your prisoner should import offending,
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Which is for me less easy to commit
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Than you to punish.
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HERMIONE Not your jailer, then,
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But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you
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Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys.
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You were pretty lordings then?
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POLIXENES We were, fair queen,
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Two lads that thought there was no more behind
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But such a day tomorrow as today,
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And to be boy eternal.
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HERMIONE Was not my lord
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The verier wag o' th' two?
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POLIXENES
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We were as twinned lambs that did frisk i' th' sun
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And bleat the one at th' other. What we changed
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Was innocence for innocence. We knew not
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The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreamed
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That any did. Had we pursued that life,
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And our weak spirits ne'er been higher reared
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With stronger blood, we should have answered
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heaven
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Boldly "Not guilty," the imposition cleared
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Hereditary ours.
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HERMIONE By this we gather
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You have tripped since.
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POLIXENES O my most sacred lady,
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Temptations have since then been born to 's, for
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In those unfledged days was my wife a girl;
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Your precious self had then not crossed the eyes
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Of my young playfellow.
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HERMIONE Grace to boot!
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Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
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Your queen and I are devils. Yet go on.
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Th' offenses we have made you do we'll answer,
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If you first sinned with us, and that with us
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You did continue fault, and that you slipped not
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With any but with us.
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LEONTES Is he won yet?
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HERMIONE
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He'll stay, my lord.
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LEONTES At my request he would not.
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Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st
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To better purpose.
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HERMIONE Never?
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LEONTES Never but once.
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HERMIONE
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What, have I twice said well? When was 't before?
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I prithee tell me. Cram 's with praise, and make 's
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As fat as tame things. One good deed dying
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tongueless
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Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
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Our praises are our wages. You may ride 's
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With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
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With spur we heat an acre. But to th' goal:
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My last good deed was to entreat his stay.
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What was my first? It has an elder sister,
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Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace!
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But once before I spoke to th' purpose? When?
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Nay, let me have 't; I long.
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LEONTES Why, that was when
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Three crabbed months had soured themselves to
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death
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Ere I could make thee open thy white hand
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And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter
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"I am yours forever."
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HERMIONE 'Tis grace indeed.
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Why, lo you now, I have spoke to th' purpose twice.
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The one forever earned a royal husband,
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Th' other for some while a friend.
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[She gives Polixenes her hand.]
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LEONTES, [aside] Too hot, too hot!
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To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
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I have tremor cordis on me. My heart dances,
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But not for joy, not joy. This entertainment
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May a free face put on, derive a liberty
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From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
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And well become the agent. 'T may, I grant.
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But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
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As now they are, and making practiced smiles
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As in a looking glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere
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The mort o' th' deer--O, that is entertainment
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My bosom likes not, nor my brows.--Mamillius,
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Art thou my boy?
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MAMILLIUS Ay, my good lord.
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LEONTES I' fecks!
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Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutched thy
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nose?
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They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
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We must be neat--not neat, but cleanly, captain.
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And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf
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Are all called neat.--Still virginalling
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Upon his palm?--How now, you wanton calf?
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Art thou my calf?
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MAMILLIUS Yes, if you will, my lord.
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LEONTES
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Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I
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have
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To be full like me; yet they say we are
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Almost as like as eggs. Women say so,
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That will say anything. But were they false
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As o'erdyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false
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As dice are to be wished by one that fixes
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No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true
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To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,
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Look on me with your welkin eye. Sweet villain,
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Most dear'st, my collop! Can thy dam?--may 't
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be?--
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Affection, thy intention stabs the center.
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Thou dost make possible things not so held,
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Communicat'st with dreams--how can this be?
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With what's unreal thou coactive art,
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And fellow'st nothing. Then 'tis very credent
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Thou may'st co-join with something; and thou dost,
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And that beyond commission, and I find it,
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And that to the infection of my brains
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And hard'ning of my brows.
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POLIXENES What means Sicilia?
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HERMIONE
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He something seems unsettled.
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POLIXENES How, my lord?
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LEONTES
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What cheer? How is 't with you, best brother?
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HERMIONE You look
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As if you held a brow of much distraction.
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Are you moved, my lord?
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LEONTES No, in good earnest.
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How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
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Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
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To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
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Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil
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Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreeched,
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In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled
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Lest it should bite its master and so prove,
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As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.
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How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
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This squash, this gentleman.--Mine honest friend,
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Will you take eggs for money?
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MAMILLIUS No, my lord, I'll fight.
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LEONTES
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You will? Why, happy man be 's dole!--My brother,
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Are you so fond of your young prince as we
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Do seem to be of ours?
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POLIXENES If at home, sir,
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He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,
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Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy,
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My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all.
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He makes a July's day short as December,
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And with his varying childness cures in me
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Thoughts that would thick my blood.
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LEONTES So stands this
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squire
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Officed with me. We two will walk, my lord,
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And leave you to your graver steps.--Hermione,
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How thou lov'st us show in our brother's welcome.
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Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap.
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Next to thyself and my young rover, he's
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Apparent to my heart.
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HERMIONE If you would seek us,
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We are yours i' th' garden. Shall 's attend you there?
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LEONTES
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To your own bents dispose you. You'll be found,
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Be you beneath the sky. [Aside.] I am angling now,
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Though you perceive me not how I give line.
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Go to, go to!
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How she holds up the neb, the bill to him,
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And arms her with the boldness of a wife
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To her allowing husband!
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[Exit Hermione, Polixenes, and Attendants.]
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Gone already.
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Inch thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a forked
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one!--
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Go play, boy, play. Thy mother plays, and I
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Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
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Will hiss me to my grave. Contempt and clamor
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Will be my knell. Go play, boy, play.--There have
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been,
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Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now;
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And many a man there is, even at this present,
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Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm,
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That little thinks she has been sluiced in 's absence,
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And his pond fished by his next neighbor, by
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Sir Smile, his neighbor. Nay, there's comfort in 't
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Whiles other men have gates and those gates
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opened,
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As mine, against their will. Should all despair
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That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
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Would hang themselves. Physic for 't there's none.
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It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
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Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
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From east, west, north, and south. Be it concluded,
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No barricado for a belly. Know 't,
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It will let in and out the enemy
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With bag and baggage. Many thousand on 's
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Have the disease and feel 't not.--How now, boy?
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MAMILLIUS
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I am like you, they say.
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LEONTES Why, that's some comfort.--
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What, Camillo there?
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CAMILLO, [coming forward] Ay, my good lord.
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LEONTES
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Go play, Mamillius. Thou 'rt an honest man.
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[Mamillius exits.]
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Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.
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CAMILLO
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You had much ado to make his anchor hold.
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When you cast out, it still came home.
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LEONTES Didst note it?
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CAMILLO
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He would not stay at your petitions, made
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His business more material.
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LEONTES Didst perceive it?
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[Aside.] They're here with me already, whisp'ring,
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rounding:
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"Sicilia is a so-forth." 'Tis far gone
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When I shall gust it last.--How came 't, Camillo,
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That he did stay?
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CAMILLO At the good queen's entreaty.
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LEONTES
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"At the queen's" be 't. "Good" should be pertinent,
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But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
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By any understanding pate but thine?
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For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
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More than the common blocks. Not noted, is 't,
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But of the finer natures, by some severals
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Of headpiece extraordinary? Lower messes
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Perchance are to this business purblind? Say.
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CAMILLO
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Business, my lord? I think most understand
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Bohemia stays here longer.
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LEONTES
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Ha?
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CAMILLO Stays here longer.
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LEONTES Ay, but why?
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CAMILLO
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To satisfy your Highness and the entreaties
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Of our most gracious mistress.
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LEONTES Satisfy?
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Th' entreaties of your mistress? Satisfy?
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Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
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With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
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My chamber-counsels, wherein, priestlike, thou
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Hast cleansed my bosom; I from thee departed
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Thy penitent reformed. But we have been
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Deceived in thy integrity, deceived
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In that which seems so.
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CAMILLO Be it forbid, my lord!
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LEONTES
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To bide upon 't: thou art not honest; or,
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If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward,
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Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
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From course required; or else thou must be
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counted
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A servant grafted in my serious trust
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And therein negligent; or else a fool
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That seest a game played home, the rich stake
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drawn,
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And tak'st it all for jest.
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CAMILLO My gracious lord,
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I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful.
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In every one of these no man is free,
|
|
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
|
|
Among the infinite doings of the world,
|
|
Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
|
|
If ever I were willful-negligent,
|
|
It was my folly; if industriously
|
|
I played the fool, it was my negligence,
|
|
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
|
|
To do a thing where I the issue doubted,
|
|
Whereof the execution did cry out
|
|
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
|
|
Which oft infects the wisest. These, my lord,
|
|
Are such allowed infirmities that honesty
|
|
Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace,
|
|
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
|
|
By its own visage. If I then deny it,
|
|
'Tis none of mine.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Ha' not you seen, Camillo--
|
|
But that's past doubt; you have, or your eyeglass
|
|
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn--or heard--
|
|
For to a vision so apparent, rumor
|
|
Cannot be mute--or thought--for cogitation
|
|
Resides not in that man that does not think--
|
|
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess--
|
|
Or else be impudently negative
|
|
To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought--then say
|
|
My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name
|
|
As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
|
|
Before her troth-plight. Say 't, and justify 't.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
I would not be a stander-by to hear
|
|
My sovereign mistress clouded so without
|
|
My present vengeance taken. 'Shrew my heart,
|
|
You never spoke what did become you less
|
|
Than this, which to reiterate were sin
|
|
As deep as that, though true.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Is whispering nothing?
|
|
Is leaning cheek to cheek? Is meeting noses?
|
|
Kissing with inside lip? Stopping the career
|
|
Of laughter with a sigh?--a note infallible
|
|
Of breaking honesty. Horsing foot on foot?
|
|
Skulking in corners? Wishing clocks more swift?
|
|
Hours minutes? Noon midnight? And all eyes
|
|
Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,
|
|
That would unseen be wicked? Is this nothing?
|
|
Why, then the world and all that's in 't is nothing,
|
|
The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing,
|
|
My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothings,
|
|
If this be nothing.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Good my lord, be cured
|
|
Of this diseased opinion, and betimes,
|
|
For 'tis most dangerous.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Say it be, 'tis true.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
No, no, my lord.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES It is. You lie, you lie.
|
|
I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,
|
|
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
|
|
Or else a hovering temporizer that
|
|
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
|
|
Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver
|
|
Infected as her life, she would not live
|
|
The running of one glass.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Who does infect her?
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging
|
|
About his neck--Bohemia, who, if I
|
|
Had servants true about me, that bare eyes
|
|
To see alike mine honor as their profits,
|
|
Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
|
|
Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou,
|
|
His cupbearer--whom I from meaner form
|
|
Have benched and reared to worship, who mayst see
|
|
Plainly as heaven sees Earth and Earth sees heaven
|
|
How I am galled--mightst bespice a cup
|
|
To give mine enemy a lasting wink,
|
|
Which draft to me were cordial.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Sir, my lord,
|
|
I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
|
|
But with a ling'ring dram that should not work
|
|
Maliciously like poison. But I cannot
|
|
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
|
|
So sovereignly being honorable. I have loved thee--
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Make that thy question, and go rot!
|
|
Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,
|
|
To appoint myself in this vexation, sully
|
|
The purity and whiteness of my sheets--
|
|
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
|
|
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps--
|
|
Give scandal to the blood o' th' Prince, my son,
|
|
Who I do think is mine and love as mine,
|
|
Without ripe moving to 't? Would I do this?
|
|
Could man so blench?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO I must believe you, sir.
|
|
I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for 't--
|
|
Provided that, when he's removed, your Highness
|
|
Will take again your queen as yours at first,
|
|
Even for your son's sake, and thereby for sealing
|
|
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
|
|
Known and allied to yours.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Thou dost advise me
|
|
Even so as I mine own course have set down.
|
|
I'll give no blemish to her honor, none.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO My lord,
|
|
Go then, and with a countenance as clear
|
|
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia
|
|
And with your queen. I am his cupbearer.
|
|
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
|
|
Account me not your servant.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES This is all.
|
|
Do 't and thou hast the one half of my heart;
|
|
Do 't not, thou splitt'st thine own.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO I'll do 't, my lord.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
O miserable lady! But, for me,
|
|
What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
|
|
Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do 't
|
|
Is the obedience to a master, one
|
|
Who in rebellion with himself will have
|
|
All that are his so too. To do this deed,
|
|
Promotion follows. If I could find example
|
|
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
|
|
And flourished after, I'd not do 't. But since
|
|
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment bears not one,
|
|
Let villainy itself forswear 't. I must
|
|
Forsake the court. To do 't or no is certain
|
|
To me a breakneck. Happy star reign now!
|
|
Here comes Bohemia.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polixenes.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES, [aside] This is strange. Methinks
|
|
My favor here begins to warp. Not speak?--
|
|
Good day, Camillo.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Hail, most royal sir.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
What is the news i' th' court?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO None rare, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
The King hath on him such a countenance
|
|
As he had lost some province and a region
|
|
Loved as he loves himself. Even now I met him
|
|
With customary compliment, when he,
|
|
Wafting his eyes to th' contrary and falling
|
|
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me, and
|
|
So leaves me to consider what is breeding
|
|
That changes thus his manners.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO I dare not know, my
|
|
lord.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
How, dare not? Do not? Do you know and dare not?
|
|
Be intelligent to me--'tis thereabouts;
|
|
For to yourself what you do know, you must,
|
|
And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo,
|
|
Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
|
|
Which shows me mine changed too, for I must be
|
|
A party in this alteration, finding
|
|
Myself thus altered with 't.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO There is a sickness
|
|
Which puts some of us in distemper, but
|
|
I cannot name the disease, and it is caught
|
|
Of you that yet are well.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES How caught of me?
|
|
Make me not sighted like the basilisk.
|
|
I have looked on thousands who have sped the
|
|
better
|
|
By my regard, but killed none so. Camillo,
|
|
As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto
|
|
Clerklike experienced, which no less adorns
|
|
Our gentry than our parents' noble names,
|
|
In whose success we are gentle, I beseech you,
|
|
If you know aught which does behoove my
|
|
knowledge
|
|
Thereof to be informed, imprison 't not
|
|
In ignorant concealment.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO I may not answer.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
A sickness caught of me, and yet I well?
|
|
I must be answered. Dost thou hear, Camillo?
|
|
I conjure thee by all the parts of man
|
|
Which honor does acknowledge, whereof the least
|
|
Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
|
|
What incidency thou dost guess of harm
|
|
Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
|
|
Which way to be prevented, if to be;
|
|
If not, how best to bear it.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Sir, I will tell you,
|
|
Since I am charged in honor and by him
|
|
That I think honorable. Therefore mark my counsel,
|
|
Which must be e'en as swiftly followed as
|
|
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me
|
|
Cry lost, and so goodnight.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES On, good Camillo.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
I am appointed him to murder you.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
By whom, Camillo?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO By the King.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES For what?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
He thinks, nay with all confidence he swears,
|
|
As he had seen 't or been an instrument
|
|
To vice you to 't, that you have touched his queen
|
|
Forbiddenly.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES O, then my best blood turn
|
|
To an infected jelly, and my name
|
|
Be yoked with his that did betray the Best!
|
|
Turn then my freshest reputation to
|
|
A savor that may strike the dullest nostril
|
|
Where I arrive, and my approach be shunned,
|
|
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
|
|
That e'er was heard or read.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Swear his thought over
|
|
By each particular star in heaven and
|
|
By all their influences, you may as well
|
|
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon
|
|
As or by oath remove or counsel shake
|
|
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
|
|
Is piled upon his faith and will continue
|
|
The standing of his body.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES How should this grow?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
I know not. But I am sure 'tis safer to
|
|
Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born.
|
|
If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
|
|
That lies enclosed in this trunk which you
|
|
Shall bear along impawned, away tonight!
|
|
Your followers I will whisper to the business,
|
|
And will by twos and threes at several posterns
|
|
Clear them o' th' city. For myself, I'll put
|
|
My fortunes to your service, which are here
|
|
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain,
|
|
For, by the honor of my parents, I
|
|
Have uttered truth--which if you seek to prove,
|
|
I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
|
|
Than one condemned by the King's own mouth,
|
|
thereon
|
|
His execution sworn.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES I do believe thee.
|
|
I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand.
|
|
Be pilot to me and thy places shall
|
|
Still neighbor mine. My ships are ready and
|
|
My people did expect my hence departure
|
|
Two days ago. This jealousy
|
|
Is for a precious creature. As she's rare,
|
|
Must it be great; and as his person's mighty,
|
|
Must it be violent; and as he does conceive
|
|
He is dishonored by a man which ever
|
|
Professed to him, why, his revenges must
|
|
In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me.
|
|
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
|
|
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
|
|
Of his ill-ta'en suspicion. Come, Camillo,
|
|
I will respect thee as a father if
|
|
Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
It is in mine authority to command
|
|
The keys of all the posterns. Please your Highness
|
|
To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 2
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE
|
|
Take the boy to you. He so troubles me
|
|
'Tis past enduring.
|
|
|
|
FIRST LADY Come, my gracious lord,
|
|
Shall I be your playfellow?
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
No, I'll none of you.
|
|
|
|
FIRST LADY Why, my sweet lord?
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
You'll kiss me hard and speak to me as if
|
|
I were a baby still.--I love you better.
|
|
|
|
SECOND LADY
|
|
And why so, my lord?
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS Not for because
|
|
Your brows are blacker--yet black brows, they say,
|
|
Become some women best, so that there be not
|
|
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle,
|
|
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
|
|
|
|
SECOND LADY Who taught this?
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
I learned it out of women's faces.--Pray now,
|
|
What color are your eyebrows?
|
|
|
|
FIRST LADY Blue, my lord.
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
Nay, that's a mock. I have seen a lady's nose
|
|
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
|
|
|
|
FIRST LADY Hark ye,
|
|
The Queen your mother rounds apace. We shall
|
|
Present our services to a fine new prince
|
|
One of these days, and then you'd wanton with us
|
|
If we would have you.
|
|
|
|
SECOND LADY She is spread of late
|
|
Into a goodly bulk. Good time encounter her!
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE
|
|
What wisdom stirs amongst you?--Come, sir, now
|
|
I am for you again. Pray you sit by us,
|
|
And tell 's a tale.
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS Merry or sad shall 't be?
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE As merry as you will.
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
A sad tale's best for winter. I have one
|
|
Of sprites and goblins.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE Let's have that, good sir.
|
|
Come on, sit down. Come on, and do your best
|
|
To fright me with your sprites. You're powerful at it.
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
There was a man--
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE Nay, come sit down, then on.
|
|
|
|
MAMILLIUS
|
|
Dwelt by a churchyard. I will tell it softly,
|
|
Yond crickets shall not hear it.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE
|
|
Come on then, and give 't me in mine ear.
|
|
|
|
[They talk privately.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Leontes, Antigonus, and Lords.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Was he met there? His train? Camillo with him?
|
|
|
|
LORD
|
|
Behind the tuft of pines I met them. Never
|
|
Saw I men scour so on their way. I eyed them
|
|
Even to their ships.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES How blest am I
|
|
In my just censure, in my true opinion!
|
|
Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accursed
|
|
In being so blest! There may be in the cup
|
|
A spider steeped, and one may drink, depart,
|
|
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
|
|
Is not infected; but if one present
|
|
Th' abhorred ingredient to his eye, make known
|
|
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
|
|
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.
|
|
Camillo was his help in this, his pander.
|
|
There is a plot against my life, my crown.
|
|
All's true that is mistrusted. That false villain
|
|
Whom I employed was pre-employed by him.
|
|
He has discovered my design, and I
|
|
Remain a pinched thing, yea, a very trick
|
|
For them to play at will. How came the posterns
|
|
So easily open?
|
|
|
|
LORD By his great authority,
|
|
Which often hath no less prevailed than so
|
|
On your command.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES I know 't too well.
|
|
[To Hermione.] Give me the boy. I am glad you did
|
|
not nurse him.
|
|
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
|
|
Have too much blood in him.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE What is this? Sport?
|
|
|
|
LEONTES, [to the Ladies]
|
|
Bear the boy hence. He shall not come about her.
|
|
Away with him, and let her sport herself
|
|
With that she's big with, [(to Hermione)] for 'tis
|
|
Polixenes
|
|
Has made thee swell thus.
|
|
[A Lady exits with Mamillius.]
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE But I'd say he had not,
|
|
And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
|
|
Howe'er you lean to th' nayward.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES You, my lords,
|
|
Look on her, mark her well. Be but about
|
|
To say "She is a goodly lady," and
|
|
The justice of your hearts will thereto add
|
|
"'Tis pity she's not honest, honorable."
|
|
Praise her but for this her without-door form,
|
|
Which on my faith deserves high speech, and
|
|
straight
|
|
The shrug, the "hum," or "ha," these petty brands
|
|
That calumny doth use--O, I am out,
|
|
That mercy does, for calumny will sear
|
|
Virtue itself--these shrugs, these "hum"s and "ha"s,
|
|
When you have said she's goodly, come between
|
|
Ere you can say she's honest. But be 't known,
|
|
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
|
|
She's an adult'ress.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE Should a villain say so,
|
|
The most replenished villain in the world,
|
|
He were as much more villain. You, my lord,
|
|
Do but mistake.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES You have mistook, my lady,
|
|
Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing,
|
|
Which I'll not call a creature of thy place
|
|
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
|
|
Should a like language use to all degrees,
|
|
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
|
|
Betwixt the prince and beggar.--I have said
|
|
She's an adult'ress; I have said with whom.
|
|
More, she's a traitor, and Camillo is
|
|
A federary with her, and one that knows
|
|
What she should shame to know herself
|
|
But with her most vile principal: that she's
|
|
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
|
|
That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy
|
|
To this their late escape.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE No, by my life,
|
|
Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
|
|
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
|
|
You thus have published me! Gentle my lord,
|
|
You scarce can right me throughly then to say
|
|
You did mistake.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES No. If I mistake
|
|
In those foundations which I build upon,
|
|
The center is not big enough to bear
|
|
A schoolboy's top.--Away with her to prison.
|
|
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
|
|
But that he speaks.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE There's some ill planet reigns.
|
|
I must be patient till the heavens look
|
|
With an aspect more favorable. Good my lords,
|
|
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
|
|
Commonly are, the want of which vain dew
|
|
Perchance shall dry your pities. But I have
|
|
That honorable grief lodged here which burns
|
|
Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords,
|
|
With thoughts so qualified as your charities
|
|
Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
|
|
The King's will be performed.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Shall I be heard?
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE
|
|
Who is 't that goes with me? Beseech your Highness
|
|
My women may be with me, for you see
|
|
My plight requires it.--Do not weep, good fools;
|
|
There is no cause. When you shall know your
|
|
mistress
|
|
Has deserved prison, then abound in tears
|
|
As I come out. This action I now go on
|
|
Is for my better grace.--Adieu, my lord.
|
|
I never wished to see you sorry; now
|
|
I trust I shall.--My women, come; you have leave.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Go, do our bidding. Hence!
|
|
[Hermione exits, under guard, with her Ladies.]
|
|
|
|
LORD
|
|
Beseech your Highness, call the Queen again.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS
|
|
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
|
|
Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer:
|
|
Yourself, your queen, your son.
|
|
|
|
LORD For her, my lord,
|
|
I dare my life lay down--and will do 't, sir,
|
|
Please you t' accept it--that the Queen is spotless
|
|
I' th' eyes of heaven, and to you--I mean
|
|
In this which you accuse her.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS If it prove
|
|
She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where
|
|
I lodge my wife. I'll go in couples with her;
|
|
Than when I feel and see her, no farther trust her.
|
|
For every inch of woman in the world,
|
|
Ay, every dram of woman's flesh, is false,
|
|
If she be.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Hold your peaces.
|
|
|
|
LORD Good my lord--
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS
|
|
It is for you we speak, not for ourselves.
|
|
You are abused, and by some putter-on
|
|
That will be damned for 't. Would I knew the
|
|
villain!
|
|
I would land-damn him. Be she honor-flawed,
|
|
I have three daughters--the eldest is eleven;
|
|
The second and the third, nine and some five;
|
|
If this prove true, they'll pay for 't. By mine honor,
|
|
I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see
|
|
To bring false generations. They are co-heirs,
|
|
And I had rather glib myself than they
|
|
Should not produce fair issue.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Cease. No more.
|
|
You smell this business with a sense as cold
|
|
As is a dead man's nose. But I do see 't and feel 't,
|
|
As you feel doing thus, and see withal
|
|
The instruments that feel.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS If it be so,
|
|
We need no grave to bury honesty.
|
|
There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten
|
|
Of the whole dungy Earth.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES What? Lack I credit?
|
|
|
|
LORD
|
|
I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
|
|
Upon this ground. And more it would content me
|
|
To have her honor true than your suspicion,
|
|
Be blamed for 't how you might.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Why, what need we
|
|
Commune with you of this, but rather follow
|
|
Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
|
|
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
|
|
Imparts this, which if you--or stupefied
|
|
Or seeming so in skill--cannot or will not
|
|
Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves
|
|
We need no more of your advice. The matter,
|
|
The loss, the gain, the ord'ring on 't is all
|
|
Properly ours.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS And I wish, my liege,
|
|
You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
|
|
Without more overture.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES How could that be?
|
|
Either thou art most ignorant by age,
|
|
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,
|
|
Added to their familiarity--
|
|
Which was as gross as ever touched conjecture,
|
|
That lacked sight only, naught for approbation
|
|
But only seeing, all other circumstances
|
|
Made up to th' deed--doth push on this
|
|
proceeding.
|
|
Yet, for a greater confirmation--
|
|
For in an act of this importance 'twere
|
|
Most piteous to be wild--I have dispatched in post
|
|
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
|
|
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
|
|
Of stuffed sufficiency. Now from the oracle
|
|
They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had
|
|
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
|
|
|
|
LORD Well done,
|
|
my lord.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Though I am satisfied and need no more
|
|
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
|
|
Give rest to th' minds of others, such as he
|
|
Whose ignorant credulity will not
|
|
Come up to th' truth. So have we thought it good
|
|
From our free person she should be confined,
|
|
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
|
|
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us.
|
|
We are to speak in public, for this business
|
|
Will raise us all.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS, [aside] To laughter, as I take it,
|
|
If the good truth were known.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, and Paulina's Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PAULINA, [to Gentleman]
|
|
The keeper of the prison, call to him.
|
|
Let him have knowledge who I am.
|
|
[Gentleman exits.]
|
|
Good lady,
|
|
No court in Europe is too good for thee.
|
|
What dost thou then in prison?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Jailer, with the Gentleman.]
|
|
|
|
Now, good sir,
|
|
You know me, do you not?
|
|
|
|
JAILER For a worthy lady
|
|
And one who much I honor.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Pray you then,
|
|
Conduct me to the Queen.
|
|
|
|
JAILER I may not, madam.
|
|
To the contrary I have express commandment.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
Here's ado, to lock up honesty and honor from
|
|
Th' access of gentle visitors. Is 't lawful, pray you,
|
|
To see her women? Any of them? Emilia?
|
|
|
|
JAILER So please you, madam,
|
|
To put apart these your attendants, I
|
|
Shall bring Emilia forth.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I pray now, call her.--
|
|
Withdraw yourselves.
|
|
[Attendants and Gentleman exit.]
|
|
|
|
JAILER
|
|
And, madam, I must be present at your conference.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Well, be 't so, prithee. [Jailer exits.]
|
|
Here's such ado to make no stain a stain
|
|
As passes coloring.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Emilia with Jailer.]
|
|
|
|
Dear gentlewoman,
|
|
How fares our gracious lady?
|
|
|
|
EMILIA
|
|
As well as one so great and so forlorn
|
|
May hold together. On her frights and griefs,
|
|
Which never tender lady hath borne greater,
|
|
She is something before her time delivered.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
A boy?
|
|
|
|
EMILIA A daughter, and a goodly babe,
|
|
Lusty and like to live. The Queen receives
|
|
Much comfort in 't, says "My poor prisoner,
|
|
I am innocent as you."
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I dare be sworn.
|
|
These dangerous unsafe lunes i' th' King, beshrew
|
|
them!
|
|
He must be told on 't, and he shall. The office
|
|
Becomes a woman best. I'll take 't upon me.
|
|
If I prove honey-mouthed, let my tongue blister
|
|
And never to my red-looked anger be
|
|
The trumpet anymore. Pray you, Emilia,
|
|
Commend my best obedience to the Queen.
|
|
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
|
|
I'll show 't the King and undertake to be
|
|
Her advocate to th' loud'st We do not know
|
|
How he may soften at the sight o' th' child.
|
|
The silence often of pure innocence
|
|
Persuades when speaking fails.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA Most worthy madam,
|
|
Your honor and your goodness is so evident
|
|
That your free undertaking cannot miss
|
|
A thriving issue. There is no lady living
|
|
So meet for this great errand. Please your Ladyship
|
|
To visit the next room, I'll presently
|
|
Acquaint the Queen of your most noble offer,
|
|
Who but today hammered of this design,
|
|
But durst not tempt a minister of honor
|
|
Lest she should be denied.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Tell her, Emilia,
|
|
I'll use that tongue I have. If wit flow from 't
|
|
As boldness from my bosom, let 't not be doubted
|
|
I shall do good.
|
|
|
|
EMILIA Now be you blest for it!
|
|
I'll to the Queen. Please you come something
|
|
nearer.
|
|
|
|
JAILER, [to Paulina]
|
|
Madam, if 't please the Queen to send the babe,
|
|
I know not what I shall incur to pass it,
|
|
Having no warrant.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA You need not fear it, sir.
|
|
This child was prisoner to the womb, and is
|
|
By law and process of great nature thence
|
|
Freed and enfranchised, not a party to
|
|
The anger of the King, nor guilty of,
|
|
If any be, the trespass of the Queen.
|
|
|
|
JAILER I do believe it.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
Do not you fear. Upon mine honor, I
|
|
Will stand betwixt you and danger.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Leontes.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Nor night nor day no rest. It is but weakness
|
|
To bear the matter thus, mere weakness. If
|
|
The cause were not in being--part o' th' cause,
|
|
She th' adult'ress, for the harlot king
|
|
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
|
|
And level of my brain, plot-proof. But she
|
|
I can hook to me. Say that she were gone,
|
|
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
|
|
Might come to me again.--Who's there?
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVANT My lord.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES How does the boy?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT He took good rest tonight. 'Tis hoped
|
|
His sickness is discharged.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES To see his nobleness,
|
|
Conceiving the dishonor of his mother.
|
|
He straight declined, drooped, took it deeply,
|
|
Fastened and fixed the shame on 't in himself,
|
|
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
|
|
And downright languished. Leave me solely. Go,
|
|
See how he fares. [Servant exits.]
|
|
Fie, fie, no thought of him.
|
|
The very thought of my revenges that way
|
|
Recoil upon me--in himself too mighty,
|
|
And in his parties, his alliance. Let him be
|
|
Until a time may serve. For present vengeance,
|
|
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
|
|
Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow.
|
|
They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor
|
|
Shall she within my power.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Paulina, carrying the baby, with Servants,
|
|
Antigonus, and Lords.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORD You must not enter.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me.
|
|
Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
|
|
Than the Queen's life? A gracious innocent soul,
|
|
More free than he is jealous.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS That's enough.
|
|
|
|
SERVANT
|
|
Madam, he hath not slept tonight, commanded
|
|
None should come at him.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Not so hot, good sir.
|
|
I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you
|
|
That creep like shadows by him and do sigh
|
|
At each his needless heavings, such as you
|
|
Nourish the cause of his awaking. I
|
|
Do come with words as medicinal as true,
|
|
Honest as either, to purge him of that humor
|
|
That presses him from sleep.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES What noise there, ho?
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
No noise, my lord, but needful conference
|
|
About some gossips for your Highness.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES How?--
|
|
Away with that audacious lady. Antigonus,
|
|
I charged thee that she should not come about me.
|
|
I knew she would.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS I told her so, my lord,
|
|
On your displeasure's peril and on mine,
|
|
She should not visit you.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES What, canst not rule her?
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
From all dishonesty he can. In this,
|
|
Unless he take the course that you have done--
|
|
Commit me for committing honor--trust it,
|
|
He shall not rule me.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS La you now, you hear.
|
|
When she will take the rein I let her run,
|
|
But she'll not stumble.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Good my liege, I come--
|
|
And I beseech you hear me, who professes
|
|
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
|
|
Your most obedient counselor, yet that dares
|
|
Less appear so in comforting your evils
|
|
Than such as most seem yours--I say I come
|
|
From your good queen.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Good queen?
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
Good queen, my lord, good queen, I say "good
|
|
queen,"
|
|
And would by combat make her good, so were I
|
|
A man, the worst about you.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Force her hence.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes
|
|
First hand me. On mine own accord I'll off,
|
|
But first I'll do my errand.--The good queen,
|
|
For she is good, hath brought you forth a
|
|
daughter--
|
|
Here 'tis--commends it to your blessing.
|
|
[She lays down the baby.]
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Out!
|
|
A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door.
|
|
A most intelligencing bawd.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Not so.
|
|
I am as ignorant in that as you
|
|
In so entitling me, and no less honest
|
|
Than you are mad--which is enough, I'll warrant,
|
|
As this world goes, to pass for honest.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Traitors,
|
|
Will you not push her out? [To Antigonus.] Give her
|
|
the bastard,
|
|
Thou dotard; thou art woman-tired, unroosted
|
|
By thy Dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,
|
|
Take 't up, I say. Give 't to thy crone.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA, [to Antigonus] Forever
|
|
Unvenerable be thy hands if thou
|
|
Tak'st up the Princess by that forced baseness
|
|
Which he has put upon 't.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES He dreads his wife.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
So I would you did. Then 'twere past all doubt
|
|
You'd call your children yours.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES A nest of traitors!
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS
|
|
I am none, by this good light.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Nor I, nor any
|
|
But one that's here, and that's himself. For he
|
|
The sacred honor of himself, his queen's,
|
|
His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,
|
|
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will
|
|
not--
|
|
For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
|
|
He cannot be compelled to 't--once remove
|
|
The root of his opinion, which is rotten
|
|
As ever oak or stone was sound.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES A callet
|
|
Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her
|
|
husband
|
|
And now baits me! This brat is none of mine.
|
|
It is the issue of Polixenes.
|
|
Hence with it, and together with the dam
|
|
Commit them to the fire.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA It is yours,
|
|
And, might we lay th' old proverb to your charge,
|
|
So like you 'tis the worse.--Behold, my lords,
|
|
Although the print be little, the whole matter
|
|
And copy of the father--eye, nose, lip,
|
|
The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
|
|
The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, his
|
|
smiles,
|
|
The very mold and frame of hand, nail, finger.
|
|
And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it
|
|
So like to him that got it, if thou hast
|
|
The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colors
|
|
No yellow in 't, lest she suspect, as he does,
|
|
Her children not her husband's.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES A gross hag!--
|
|
And, losel, thou art worthy to be hanged
|
|
That wilt not stay her tongue.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS Hang all the husbands
|
|
That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself
|
|
Hardly one subject.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Once more, take her hence.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
A most unworthy and unnatural lord
|
|
Can do no more.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES I'll ha' thee burnt.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I care not.
|
|
It is an heretic that makes the fire,
|
|
Not she which burns in 't. I'll not call you tyrant;
|
|
But this most cruel usage of your queen,
|
|
Not able to produce more accusation
|
|
Than your own weak-hinged fancy, something
|
|
savors
|
|
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
|
|
Yea, scandalous to the world.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES, [to Antigonus] On your allegiance,
|
|
Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant,
|
|
Where were her life? She durst not call me so
|
|
If she did know me one. Away with her!
|
|
|
|
PAULINA, [to Lords]
|
|
I pray you do not push me; I'll be gone.--
|
|
Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours. Jove send her
|
|
A better guiding spirit.--What needs these hands?
|
|
You that are thus so tender o'er his follies
|
|
Will never do him good, not one of you.
|
|
So, so. Farewell, we are gone. [She exits.]
|
|
|
|
LEONTES, [to Antigonus]
|
|
Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.
|
|
My child? Away with 't! Even thou, that hast
|
|
A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence,
|
|
And see it instantly consumed with fire.
|
|
Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight.
|
|
Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,
|
|
And by good testimony, or I'll seize thy life,
|
|
With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse
|
|
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so.
|
|
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
|
|
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire,
|
|
For thou sett'st on thy wife.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS I did not, sir.
|
|
These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
|
|
Can clear me in 't.
|
|
|
|
LORDS We can, my royal liege.
|
|
He is not guilty of her coming hither.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES You're liars all.
|
|
|
|
LORD
|
|
Beseech your Highness, give us better credit.
|
|
We have always truly served you, and beseech
|
|
So to esteem of us. And on our knees we beg,
|
|
As recompense of our dear services
|
|
Past and to come, that you do change this purpose,
|
|
Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
|
|
Lead on to some foul issue. We all kneel.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
I am a feather for each wind that blows.
|
|
Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
|
|
And call me father? Better burn it now
|
|
Than curse it then. But be it; let it live.
|
|
It shall not neither. [To Antigonus.] You, sir, come
|
|
you hither,
|
|
You that have been so tenderly officious
|
|
With Lady Margery, your midwife there,
|
|
To save this bastard's life--for 'tis a bastard,
|
|
So sure as this beard's gray. What will you
|
|
adventure
|
|
To save this brat's life?
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS Anything, my lord,
|
|
That my ability may undergo
|
|
And nobleness impose. At least thus much:
|
|
I'll pawn the little blood which I have left
|
|
To save the innocent. Anything possible.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
|
|
Thou wilt perform my bidding.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS, [his hand on the hilt] I will, my lord.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Mark, and perform it, seest thou; for the fail
|
|
Of any point in 't shall not only be
|
|
Death to thyself but to thy lewd-tongued wife,
|
|
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,
|
|
As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry
|
|
This female bastard hence, and that thou bear it
|
|
To some remote and desert place quite out
|
|
Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it,
|
|
Without more mercy, to it own protection
|
|
And favor of the climate. As by strange fortune
|
|
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
|
|
On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture,
|
|
That thou commend it strangely to some place
|
|
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS
|
|
I swear to do this, though a present death
|
|
Had been more merciful.--Come on, poor babe.
|
|
[He picks up the baby.]
|
|
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
|
|
To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say,
|
|
Casting their savageness aside, have done
|
|
Like offices of pity. [To Leontes.] Sir, be prosperous
|
|
In more than this deed does require.--And blessing
|
|
Against this cruelty fight on thy side,
|
|
Poor thing, condemned to loss.
|
|
[He exits, carrying the baby.]
|
|
|
|
LEONTES No, I'll not rear
|
|
Another's issue.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVANT Please your Highness, posts
|
|
From those you sent to th' oracle are come
|
|
An hour since. Cleomenes and Dion,
|
|
Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed,
|
|
Hasting to th' court.
|
|
|
|
LORD, [to Leontes] So please you, sir, their speed
|
|
Hath been beyond account.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Twenty-three days
|
|
They have been absent. 'Tis good speed, foretells
|
|
The great Apollo suddenly will have
|
|
The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords.
|
|
Summon a session, that we may arraign
|
|
Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
|
|
Been publicly accused, so shall she have
|
|
A just and open trial. While she lives,
|
|
My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me,
|
|
And think upon my bidding.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 3
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Cleomenes and Dion.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES
|
|
The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,
|
|
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
|
|
The common praise it bears.
|
|
|
|
DION I shall report,
|
|
For most it caught me, the celestial habits--
|
|
Methinks I so should term them--and the reverence
|
|
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice,
|
|
How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly
|
|
It was i' th' off'ring!
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES But of all, the burst
|
|
And the ear-deaf'ning voice o' th' oracle,
|
|
Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense
|
|
That I was nothing.
|
|
|
|
DION If th' event o' th' journey
|
|
Prove as successful to the Queen--O, be 't so!--
|
|
As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,
|
|
The time is worth the use on 't.
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES Great Apollo
|
|
Turn all to th' best! These proclamations,
|
|
So forcing faults upon Hermione,
|
|
I little like.
|
|
|
|
DION The violent carriage of it
|
|
Will clear or end the business when the oracle,
|
|
Thus by Apollo's great divine sealed up,
|
|
Shall the contents discover. Something rare
|
|
Even then will rush to knowledge. Go. Fresh horses;
|
|
And gracious be the issue.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,
|
|
Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried
|
|
The daughter of a king, our wife, and one
|
|
Of us too much beloved. Let us be cleared
|
|
Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
|
|
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course
|
|
Even to the guilt or the purgation.
|
|
Produce the prisoner.
|
|
|
|
OFFICER
|
|
It is his Highness' pleasure that the Queen
|
|
Appear in person here in court.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hermione, as to her trial, Paulina, and Ladies.]
|
|
|
|
Silence!
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Read the indictment.
|
|
|
|
OFFICER [reads] Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes,
|
|
King of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned
|
|
of high treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes,
|
|
King of Bohemia, and conspiring with Camillo
|
|
to take away the life of our sovereign lord the King, thy
|
|
royal husband; the pretense whereof being by circumstances
|
|
partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to
|
|
the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst counsel
|
|
and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away by
|
|
night.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE
|
|
Since what I am to say must be but that
|
|
Which contradicts my accusation, and
|
|
The testimony on my part no other
|
|
But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me
|
|
To say "Not guilty." Mine integrity,
|
|
Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
|
|
Be so received. But thus: if powers divine
|
|
Behold our human actions, as they do,
|
|
I doubt not then but innocence shall make
|
|
False accusation blush and tyranny
|
|
Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
|
|
Whom 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 played 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 honor fore
|
|
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
|
|
As I weigh grief, which I would spare. For honor,
|
|
'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 came,
|
|
With what encounter so uncurrent I
|
|
Have strained t' appear thus; if one jot beyond
|
|
The bound of honor, or in act or will
|
|
That way inclining, hardened be the hearts
|
|
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
|
|
Cry fie upon my grave.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES I ne'er heard yet
|
|
That any of these bolder vices wanted
|
|
Less impudence to gainsay what they did
|
|
Than to perform it first.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE That's true enough,
|
|
Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
You will not own it.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE 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
|
|
I loved him as in honor 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,
|
|
Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely
|
|
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,
|
|
I know not how it tastes, though it be dished
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
You knew of his departure, as you know
|
|
What you have underta'en to do in 's absence.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE Sir,
|
|
You speak a language that I understand not.
|
|
My life stands in the level of your dreams,
|
|
Which I'll lay down.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Your actions are my dreams.
|
|
You had a bastard by Polixenes,
|
|
And I but dreamed it. As you were past all shame--
|
|
Those of your fact are so--so past all truth,
|
|
Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as
|
|
Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
|
|
No father owning it--which is indeed
|
|
More criminal in thee than it--so thou
|
|
Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage
|
|
Look for no less than death.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE Sir, spare your threats.
|
|
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 favor,
|
|
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 barred like one infectious. My third comfort,
|
|
Starred most unluckily, is from my breast,
|
|
The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth,
|
|
Haled out to murder; myself on every post
|
|
Proclaimed a strumpet; with immodest hatred
|
|
The childbed privilege denied, which longs
|
|
To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
|
|
Here to this place, i' th' open air, before
|
|
I 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,
|
|
I prize it not a straw, but for mine honor,
|
|
Which I would free), if I shall be condemned
|
|
Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
|
|
But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
|
|
'Tis rigor, and not law. Your Honors all,
|
|
I do refer me to the oracle.
|
|
Apollo be my judge.
|
|
|
|
LORD This your request
|
|
Is altogether just. Therefore bring forth,
|
|
And in Apollo's name, his oracle. [Officers exit.]
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Cleomenes, Dion, with Officers.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
OFFICER, [presenting a sword]
|
|
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 sealed-up oracle, by the hand delivered
|
|
Of great Apollo's priest, and that since then
|
|
You have not dared to break the holy seal
|
|
Nor read the secrets in 't.
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES, DION All this we swear.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Break up the seals and read.
|
|
|
|
OFFICER [reads] Hermione is chaste, Polixenes blameless,
|
|
Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous 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!
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE Praised!
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Hast thou read truth?
|
|
|
|
OFFICER
|
|
Ay, my lord, even so as it is here set down.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
There is no truth at all i' th' oracle.
|
|
The sessions shall proceed. This is mere falsehood.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVANT
|
|
My lord the King, the King!
|
|
|
|
LEONTES What is the business?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT
|
|
O sir, I shall be hated to report it.
|
|
The Prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
|
|
Of the Queen's speed, is gone.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES How? Gone?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT Is dead.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Apollo's angry, and the heavens themselves
|
|
Do strike at my injustice.
|
|
[Hermione falls.]
|
|
How now there?
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
This news is mortal to the Queen. Look down
|
|
And see what death is doing.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES 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.
|
|
|
|
[Paulina exits with Officers carrying Hermione.]
|
|
|
|
Apollo, pardon
|
|
My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle.
|
|
I'll 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 chose
|
|
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 filled with honor, to my kingly guest
|
|
Unclasped my practice, quit his fortunes here,
|
|
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
|
|
Of all incertainties himself commended,
|
|
No richer than his honor. How he glisters
|
|
Through my rust, and how his piety
|
|
Does my deeds make the blacker!
|
|
|
|
[Enter Paulina.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Woe the while!
|
|
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
|
|
Break too!
|
|
|
|
LORD What fit is this, good lady?
|
|
|
|
PAULINA, [to Leontes]
|
|
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
|
|
What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying? Boiling
|
|
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 bygone fooleries were but spices of it.
|
|
That thou betrayedst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;
|
|
That did but show thee of a fool, inconstant
|
|
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was 't much
|
|
Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo's honor,
|
|
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 honorable thoughts,
|
|
Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart
|
|
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
|
|
Blemished his gracious dam. This is not, no,
|
|
Laid to thy answer. But the last--O lords,
|
|
When I have said, cry woe!--the Queen, the Queen,
|
|
The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead, and vengeance
|
|
for 't
|
|
Not dropped down yet.
|
|
|
|
LORD The higher powers forbid!
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
I say she's dead. I'll swear 't. If word nor oath
|
|
Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring
|
|
Tincture or luster 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.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Go on, go on.
|
|
Thou canst not speak too much. I have deserved
|
|
All tongues to talk their bitt'rest.
|
|
|
|
LORD, [to Paulina] Say no more.
|
|
Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
|
|
I' th' boldness of your speech.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I am sorry for 't.
|
|
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
|
|
I do repent. Alas, I have showed too much
|
|
The rashness of a woman. He is touched
|
|
To th' 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 punished, 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.
|
|
I'll not remember you of my own lord,
|
|
Who is lost too. Take your patience to you,
|
|
And I'll say nothing.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Thou didst speak but well
|
|
When most the truth, which I receive much better
|
|
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, 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.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Antigonus carrying the babe, and a Mariner.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS
|
|
Thou art perfect, then, our ship hath touched upon
|
|
The deserts of Bohemia?
|
|
|
|
MARINER 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 's.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS
|
|
Their sacred wills be done. Go, get aboard.
|
|
Look to thy bark. I'll not be long before
|
|
I call upon thee.
|
|
|
|
MARINER Make your best haste, and go not
|
|
Too far i' th' land. 'Tis like to be loud weather.
|
|
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
|
|
Of prey that keep upon 't.
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS Go thou away.
|
|
I'll follow instantly.
|
|
|
|
MARINER I am glad at heart
|
|
To be so rid o' th' business. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
ANTIGONUS Come, poor babe.
|
|
I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' th' dead
|
|
May walk again. If such thing be, thy mother
|
|
Appeared 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 filled and so becoming. In pure white robes,
|
|
Like very sanctity, she did approach
|
|
My cabin where I lay, thrice bowed before me,
|
|
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
|
|
Became two spouts. The fury spent, anon
|
|
Did this 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,
|
|
Places remote enough are in Bohemia.
|
|
There weep, and leave it crying. And, for the babe
|
|
Is counted lost forever, Perdita
|
|
I prithee 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 suffered 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.
|
|
There lie, and there thy character; there these,
|
|
[He lays down the baby, a bundle, and a box.]
|
|
Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,
|
|
And still rest thine. [Thunder.] 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 accurst am I
|
|
To be by oath enjoined to this. Farewell.
|
|
The day frowns more and more. Thou 'rt like to have
|
|
A lullaby too rough. I never saw
|
|
The heavens so dim by day.
|
|
[Thunder, and sounds of hunting.]
|
|
A savage clamor!
|
|
Well may I get aboard! This is the chase.
|
|
I am gone forever! [He exits, pursued by a bear.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Shepherd.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD 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
|
|
boiled 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 anywhere I have them, 'tis by the
|
|
seaside, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an 't be thy will,
|
|
what have we here? Mercy on 's, a bairn! A very
|
|
pretty bairn. 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 halloed but even now.--Whoa-ho-ho!
|
|
|
|
[Enter Shepherd's Son.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Hilloa, loa!
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD 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?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON 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.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Why, boy, how is it?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON 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. O, the most piteous cry of the poor
|
|
souls! Sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em.
|
|
Now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast,
|
|
and anon swallowed with yeast 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-dragoned it.
|
|
But, first, how the poor souls roared and the sea
|
|
mocked them, and how the poor gentleman roared
|
|
and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than
|
|
the sea or weather.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Now, now. I have not winked 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.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Would I had been by to have helped the old
|
|
man.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON I would you had been by the ship side,
|
|
to have helped her. There your charity would have
|
|
lacked footing.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Heavy matters, heavy matters. But look
|
|
thee here, boy. Now bless thyself. Thou met'st with
|
|
things dying, I with things newborn. 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?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [opening the box] You're a made old
|
|
man. If the sins of your youth are forgiven you,
|
|
you're well to live. Gold, all gold.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so.
|
|
Up with 't, 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.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON 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.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern
|
|
by that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to
|
|
th' sight of him.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Marry, will I, and you shall help to
|
|
put him i' th' ground.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good
|
|
deeds on 't.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 4
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Time, the Chorus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
TIME
|
|
I, that please some, try all--both joy and terror
|
|
Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds 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 am ere ancient'st order was
|
|
Or what is now received. I witness to
|
|
The times that brought them in. So shall I do
|
|
To th' freshest things now reigning, and make stale
|
|
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,
|
|
Th' 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' th' King's, which Florizell
|
|
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 prophesy; but let Time's news
|
|
Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's
|
|
daughter
|
|
And what to her adheres, which follows after,
|
|
Is th' 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 earnestly you never may.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Polixenes and Camillo.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more
|
|
importunate. 'Tis a sickness denying thee anything,
|
|
a death to grant this.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO It is fifteen years since I saw my country.
|
|
Though I have for the most part been aired abroad,
|
|
I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent
|
|
king, my master, hath sent for me, to whose feeling
|
|
sorrows I might be some allay--or I o'erween to
|
|
think so--which is another spur to my departure.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES As thou lov'st me, Camillo, wipe not out the
|
|
rest of thy services by leaving me now. The need I
|
|
have of thee thine own goodness hath made. Better
|
|
not to have had thee than thus to want thee. Thou,
|
|
having made me businesses which none without
|
|
thee can sufficiently manage, must either stay to
|
|
execute them thyself or take away with thee the very
|
|
services thou hast done, which if I have not enough
|
|
considered, as too much I cannot, to be more
|
|
thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit
|
|
therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal country
|
|
Sicilia, prithee speak no more, whose very
|
|
naming punishes me with the remembrance of that
|
|
penitent, as thou call'st him, and reconciled king
|
|
my brother, whose loss of his most precious queen
|
|
and children are even now to be afresh lamented.
|
|
Say to me, when sawst thou the Prince Florizell, my
|
|
son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not
|
|
being gracious, than they are in losing them when
|
|
they have approved their virtues.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Sir, it is three days since I saw the Prince.
|
|
What his happier affairs may be are to me unknown,
|
|
but I have missingly noted he is of late
|
|
much retired from court and is less frequent to his
|
|
princely exercises than formerly he hath appeared.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES 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 neighbors, is grown into an
|
|
unspeakable estate.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO 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.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES 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.
|
|
Prithee be my present partner in this business, and
|
|
lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO I willingly obey your command.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES My best Camillo. We must disguise
|
|
ourselves.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Autolycus singing.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS
|
|
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 heigh, the sweet birds, O how they sing!
|
|
Doth set my pugging tooth an edge,
|
|
For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
|
|
|
|
The lark, that tirralirra chants,
|
|
With heigh, with heigh, the thrush and the jay,
|
|
Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
|
|
While we lie tumbling in the hay.
|
|
|
|
I have served Prince Florizell 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 avouch it.
|
|
|
|
My traffic is sheets. When the kite builds, look to
|
|
lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus, who,
|
|
being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise
|
|
a snapper-up of unconsidered 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 Shepherd's Son.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Let me see, every 'leven wether tods,
|
|
every tod yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen
|
|
hundred shorn, what comes the wool to?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [aside] If the springe hold, the cock's
|
|
mine. [He lies down.]
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON I cannot do 't without counters. Let
|
|
me see, what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing
|
|
feast? [(He reads a paper.)] 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 basses, but
|
|
one Puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to
|
|
hornpipes. I must have saffron to color the warden
|
|
pies; 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' th' sun.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [writhing as if in pain] O, that ever I was
|
|
born!
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON I' th' name of me!
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS O, help me, help me! Pluck but off these
|
|
rags, and then death, death.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Alack, poor soul, thou hast need of
|
|
more rags to lay on thee rather than have these off.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends
|
|
me more than the stripes I have received, which are
|
|
mighty ones and millions.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Alas, poor man, a million of beating
|
|
may come to a great matter.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I am robbed, sir, and beaten, my money
|
|
and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable
|
|
things put upon me.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON What, by a horseman, or a footman?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS A footman, sweet sir, a footman.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Indeed, he should be a footman by
|
|
the garments he has 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.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS O, good sir, tenderly, O!
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Alas, poor soul.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS O, good sir, softly, good sir. I fear, sir, my
|
|
shoulder blade is out.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON How now? Canst stand?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [stealing the Shepherd's Son's purse] Softly,
|
|
dear sir, good sir, softly. You ha' done me a charitable
|
|
office.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Dost lack any money? I have a little
|
|
money for thee.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS 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 anything I want. Offer me no money, I
|
|
pray you; that kills my heart.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON What manner of fellow was he that
|
|
robbed you?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about
|
|
with troll-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 whipped out of
|
|
the court.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON His vices, you would say. There's no
|
|
virtue whipped out of the court. They cherish it to
|
|
make it stay there, and yet it will no more but abide.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS 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 compassed 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 professions, he
|
|
settled only in rogue. Some call him Autolycus.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Out upon him! Prig, for my life, prig!
|
|
He haunts wakes, fairs, and bearbaitings.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Very true, sir: he, sir, he. That's the rogue
|
|
that put me into this apparel.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Not a more cowardly rogue in all
|
|
Bohemia. If you had but looked big and spit at him,
|
|
he'd have run.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter. I
|
|
am false of heart that way, and that he knew, I
|
|
warrant him.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON How do you now?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS 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.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Shall I bring thee on the way?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS No, good-faced sir, no, sweet sir.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Then fare thee well. I must go buy
|
|
spices for our sheep-shearing.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Prosper you, sweet sir.
|
|
[Shepherd's Son exits.]
|
|
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 unrolled and my
|
|
name put in the book of virtue.
|
|
[Sings.] Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
|
|
And merrily hent the stile-a.
|
|
A merry heart goes all the day,
|
|
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Florizell and Perdita.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
These your unusual weeds to each part of you
|
|
Does 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.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA 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' th' land, you have obscured
|
|
With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
|
|
Most goddesslike pranked 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, swoon, I think,
|
|
To show myself a glass.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL I bless the time
|
|
When my good falcon made her flight across
|
|
Thy father's ground.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Now Jove afford you cause.
|
|
To me the difference forges dread. Your greatness
|
|
Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble
|
|
To think your father by some accident
|
|
Should pass this way as you did. O the Fates,
|
|
How would he look to see his work, so noble,
|
|
Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
|
|
Should I, in these my borrowed flaunts, behold
|
|
The sternness of his presence?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Apprehend
|
|
Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,
|
|
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
|
|
The shapes of beasts upon them. Jupiter
|
|
Became a bull, and bellowed; the green Neptune
|
|
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god,
|
|
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
|
|
As I seem now. Their transformations
|
|
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
|
|
Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
|
|
Run not before mine honor, nor my lusts
|
|
Burn hotter than my faith.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA O, but sir,
|
|
Your resolution cannot hold when 'tis
|
|
Opposed, as it must be, by th' power of the King.
|
|
One of these two must be necessities,
|
|
Which then will speak: that you must change this
|
|
purpose
|
|
Or I my life.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Thou dear'st Perdita,
|
|
With these forced thoughts I prithee darken not
|
|
The mirth o' th' feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair,
|
|
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
|
|
Mine own, nor anything 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 anything
|
|
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming.
|
|
Lift up your countenance as it were the day
|
|
Of celebration of that nuptial which
|
|
We two have sworn shall come.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA O Lady Fortune,
|
|
Stand you auspicious!
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL See, your guests approach.
|
|
Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
|
|
And let's be red with mirth.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Shepherd, Shepherd's Son, Mopsa, Dorcas,
|
|
Shepherds and Shepherdesses, Servants, Musicians,
|
|
and Polixenes and Camillo in disguise.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD
|
|
Fie, daughter, when my old wife lived, upon
|
|
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
|
|
Both dame and servant; welcomed all; served all;
|
|
Would sing her song and dance her turn, now here
|
|
At upper end o' th' table, now i' th' middle;
|
|
On his shoulder, and his; her face afire
|
|
With labor, and the thing she took to quench it
|
|
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 's 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' th' feast. Come on,
|
|
And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
|
|
As your good flock shall prosper.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA, [to Polixenes] Sir, welcome.
|
|
It is my father's will I should take on me
|
|
The hostess-ship o' th' day. [To Camillo.] You're
|
|
welcome, sir.--
|
|
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.--Reverend
|
|
sirs,
|
|
For you there's rosemary and rue. These keep
|
|
Seeming and savor all the winter long.
|
|
Grace and remembrance be to you both,
|
|
And welcome to our shearing.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Shepherdess--
|
|
A fair one are you--well you fit our ages
|
|
With flowers of winter.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Sir, the year growing ancient,
|
|
Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth
|
|
Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season
|
|
Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors,
|
|
Which some call nature's bastards. Of that kind
|
|
Our rustic garden's barren, and I care not
|
|
To get slips of them.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Wherefore, gentle maiden,
|
|
Do you neglect them?
|
|
|
|
PERDITA For I have heard it said
|
|
There is an art which in their piedness shares
|
|
With great creating nature.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Say there be;
|
|
Yet nature is made better by no mean
|
|
But nature makes that mean. So, over that art
|
|
Which you say adds to nature is an art
|
|
That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry
|
|
A gentler scion to the wildest stock,
|
|
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
|
|
By bud of nobler race. This is an art
|
|
Which does mend nature, change it rather, but
|
|
The art itself is nature.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA So it is.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,
|
|
And do not call them bastards.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA I'll not put
|
|
The dibble in earth to set one slip of them,
|
|
No more than, were I painted, I would wish
|
|
This youth should say 'twere well, and only
|
|
therefore
|
|
Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you:
|
|
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram,
|
|
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' th' sun
|
|
And with him rises weeping. These are flowers
|
|
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
|
|
To men of middle age. You're very welcome.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
|
|
And only live by gazing.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Out, alas!
|
|
You'd be so lean that blasts of January
|
|
Would blow you through and through. [(To
|
|
Florizell.)] Now, my fair'st friend,
|
|
I would I had some flowers o' th' spring, that might
|
|
Become your time of day, [(to the Shepherdesses)]
|
|
and yours, and yours,
|
|
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
|
|
Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina,
|
|
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall
|
|
From Dis's wagon! 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 Phoebus 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.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL What, like a corse?
|
|
|
|
PERDITA
|
|
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 them do
|
|
In Whitsun pastorals. Sure this robe of mine
|
|
Does change my disposition.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL 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 ord'ring your affairs,
|
|
To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you
|
|
A wave o' th' 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.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA O Doricles,
|
|
Your praises are too large. But that your youth
|
|
And the true blood which peeps fairly through 't
|
|
Do plainly give you out an unstained shepherd,
|
|
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
|
|
You wooed me the false way.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL 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.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA I'll swear for 'em.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES, [to Camillo]
|
|
This is the prettiest lowborn lass that ever
|
|
Ran on the greensward. Nothing she does or seems
|
|
But smacks of something greater than herself,
|
|
Too noble for this place.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO He tells her something
|
|
That makes her blood look out. Good sooth, she is
|
|
The queen of curds and cream.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Musicians] Come on, strike up.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS
|
|
Mopsa must be your mistress? Marry, garlic
|
|
To mend her kissing with.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA Now, in good time!
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON
|
|
Not a word, a word. We stand upon our manners.--
|
|
Come, strike up. [Music begins.]
|
|
[Here a Dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.]
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this
|
|
Which dances with your daughter?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD
|
|
They call him Doricles, and boasts himself
|
|
To have a worthy feeding. But I have it
|
|
Upon his own report, and I believe it.
|
|
He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter.
|
|
I think so too, for never gazed the moon
|
|
Upon the water as he'll stand and read,
|
|
As 'twere, my daughter's eyes. And, to be plain,
|
|
I think there is not half a kiss to choose
|
|
Who loves another best.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES She dances featly.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD
|
|
So she does anything, though I report it
|
|
That should be silent. If young Doricles
|
|
Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
|
|
Which he not dreams of.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVANT O, master, if you did but hear the peddler at
|
|
the door, you would never dance again after a tabor
|
|
and pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you. He
|
|
sings several tunes faster than you'll tell money. He
|
|
utters them as he had eaten ballads and all men's
|
|
ears grew to his tunes.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON He could never come better. He shall
|
|
come in. I love a ballad but even too well if it be
|
|
doleful matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant
|
|
thing indeed and sung lamentably.
|
|
|
|
SERVANT He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes.
|
|
No milliner can so fit his customers with gloves. He
|
|
has the prettiest love songs for maids, so without
|
|
bawdry, which is strange, with such delicate burdens
|
|
of dildos and fadings, "Jump her and thump
|
|
her." And where some stretch-mouthed rascal
|
|
would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul
|
|
gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer
|
|
"Whoop, do me no harm, good man"; puts him off,
|
|
slights him, with "Whoop, do me no harm, good
|
|
man."
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES This is a brave fellow.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable
|
|
conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided
|
|
wares?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT He hath ribbons of all the colors i' th' rainbow;
|
|
points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia
|
|
can learnedly handle, though they come to him by
|
|
th' gross; inkles, caddises, cambrics, lawns--why,
|
|
he sings 'em over as they were gods or goddesses.
|
|
You would think a smock were a she-angel, he so
|
|
chants to the sleeve-hand and the work about the
|
|
square on 't.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Prithee bring him in, and let him
|
|
approach singing.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words
|
|
in 's tunes. [Servant exits.]
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON You have of these peddlers that have
|
|
more in them than you'd think, sister.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Ay, good brother, or go about to think.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Autolycus, wearing a false beard, singing.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS
|
|
Lawn as white as driven snow,
|
|
Cypress black as e'er was crow,
|
|
Gloves as sweet as damask roses,
|
|
Masks for faces and for noses,
|
|
Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,
|
|
Perfume for a lady's chamber,
|
|
Golden coifs and stomachers
|
|
For my lads to give their dears,
|
|
Pins and poking-sticks of steel,
|
|
What maids lack from head to heel,
|
|
Come buy of me, come. Come buy, come buy.
|
|
Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry.
|
|
Come buy.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou
|
|
shouldst take no money of me; but being enthralled
|
|
as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain
|
|
ribbons and gloves.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA I was promised them against the feast, but they
|
|
come not too late now.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS He hath promised you more than that, or there
|
|
be liars.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA He hath paid you all he promised you. Maybe
|
|
he has paid you more, which will shame you to give
|
|
him again.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Is there no manners left among
|
|
maids? Will they wear their plackets where they
|
|
should bear their faces? Is there not milking time,
|
|
when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle
|
|
of these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling
|
|
before all our guests? 'Tis well they are whisp'ring.
|
|
Clamor your tongues, and not a word more.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry
|
|
lace and a pair of sweet gloves.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Have I not told thee how I was cozened
|
|
by the way and lost all my money?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad;
|
|
therefore it behooves men to be wary.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Fear not thou, man. Thou shalt lose
|
|
nothing here.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I hope so, sir, for I have about me many
|
|
parcels of charge.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON What hast here? Ballads?
|
|
|
|
MOPSA Pray now, buy some. I love a ballad in print
|
|
alife, for then we are sure they are true.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a
|
|
usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty moneybags
|
|
at a burden, and how she longed to eat adders'
|
|
heads and toads carbonadoed.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA Is it true, think you?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Very true, and but a month old.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS Bless me from marrying a usurer!
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Here's the midwife's name to 't, one Mistress
|
|
Taleporter, and five or six honest wives that
|
|
were present. Why should I carry lies abroad?
|
|
|
|
MOPSA, [to Shepherd's Son] Pray you now, buy it.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Autolycus] Come on, lay it by, and
|
|
let's first see more ballads. We'll buy the other
|
|
things anon.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Here's another ballad, of a fish that appeared
|
|
upon the coast on Wednesday the fourscore
|
|
of April, forty thousand fathom above water, and
|
|
sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids. It
|
|
was thought she was a woman, and was turned into
|
|
a cold fish for she would not exchange flesh with
|
|
one that loved her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as
|
|
true.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS Is it true too, think you?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses
|
|
more than my pack will hold.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Lay it by too. Another.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty
|
|
one.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA Let's have some merry ones.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Why, this is a passing merry one and goes
|
|
to the tune of "Two Maids Wooing a Man." There's
|
|
scarce a maid westward but she sings it. 'Tis in
|
|
request, I can tell you.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA We can both sing it. If thou 'lt bear a part, thou
|
|
shalt hear; 'tis in three parts.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS We had the tune on 't a month ago.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I can bear my part. You must know 'tis my
|
|
occupation. Have at it with you.
|
|
|
|
Song.
|
|
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Get you hence, for I must go
|
|
Where it fits not you to know.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS Whither?
|
|
|
|
MOPSA O, whither?
|
|
|
|
DORCAS Whither?
|
|
|
|
MOPSA It becomes thy oath full well
|
|
Thou to me thy secrets tell.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS Me too. Let me go thither.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA Or thou goest to th' grange or mill.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS If to either, thou dost ill.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Neither.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS What, neither?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Neither.
|
|
|
|
DORCAS Thou hast sworn my love to be.
|
|
|
|
MOPSA Thou hast sworn it more to me.
|
|
Then whither goest? Say whither.
|
|
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON We'll have this song out anon by
|
|
ourselves. My father and the gentlemen are in sad
|
|
talk, and we'll not trouble them. Come, bring away
|
|
thy pack after me.--Wenches, I'll buy for you
|
|
both.--Peddler, let's have the first choice.--Follow
|
|
me, girls.
|
|
[He exits with Mopsa, Dorcas, Shepherds and
|
|
Shepherdesses.]
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS And you shall pay well for 'em.
|
|
|
|
Song.
|
|
|
|
Will you buy any tape,
|
|
Or lace for your cape,
|
|
My dainty duck, my dear-a?
|
|
Any silk, any thread,
|
|
Any toys for your head,
|
|
Of the new'st and fin'st, fin'st wear-a?
|
|
Come to the peddler.
|
|
Money's a meddler
|
|
That doth utter all men's ware-a.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVANT, [to Shepherd] Master, there is three carters,
|
|
three shepherds, three neatherds, three swineherds,
|
|
that have made themselves all men of hair.
|
|
They call themselves saultiers, and they have a
|
|
dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of
|
|
gambols, because they are not in 't, but they themselves
|
|
are o' th' mind, if it be not too rough for
|
|
some that know little but bowling, it will please
|
|
plentifully.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Away! We'll none on 't. Here has been too
|
|
much homely foolery already.--I know, sir, we
|
|
weary you.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let's
|
|
see these four threes of herdsmen.
|
|
|
|
SERVANT One three of them, by their own report, sir,
|
|
hath danced before the King, and not the worst of
|
|
the three but jumps twelve foot and a half by th'
|
|
square.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Leave your prating. Since these good men
|
|
are pleased, let them come in--but quickly now.
|
|
|
|
SERVANT Why, they stay at door, sir.
|
|
|
|
[He admits the herdsmen.]
|
|
|
|
[Here a Dance of twelve herdsmen, dressed as Satyrs.]
|
|
[Herdsmen, Musicians, and Servants exit.]
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES, [to Shepherd]
|
|
O father, you'll know more of that hereafter.
|
|
[Aside to Camillo.] Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to
|
|
part them.
|
|
He's simple, and tells much. [To Florizell.] How now,
|
|
fair shepherd?
|
|
Your heart is full of something that does take
|
|
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young
|
|
And handed love, as you do, I was wont
|
|
To load my she with knacks. I would have ransacked
|
|
The peddler's silken treasury and have poured it
|
|
To her acceptance. You have let him go
|
|
And nothing marted with him. If your lass
|
|
Interpretation should abuse and call this
|
|
Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
|
|
For a reply, at least if you make a care
|
|
Of happy holding her.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Old sir, I know
|
|
She prizes not such trifles as these are.
|
|
The gifts she looks from me are packed and locked
|
|
Up in my heart, which I have given already,
|
|
But not delivered. [To Perdita.] O, hear me breathe
|
|
my life
|
|
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
|
|
Hath sometime loved. I take thy hand, this hand
|
|
As soft as dove's down and as white as it,
|
|
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fanned snow that's
|
|
bolted
|
|
By th' northern blasts twice o'er.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES What follows this?--
|
|
How prettily th' young swain seems to wash
|
|
The hand was fair before.--I have put you out.
|
|
But to your protestation. Let me hear
|
|
What you profess.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Do, and be witness to 't.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
And this my neighbor too?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL And he, and more
|
|
Than he, and men--the Earth, the heavens, and
|
|
all--
|
|
That were I crowned the most imperial monarch,
|
|
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
|
|
That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge
|
|
More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
|
|
Without her love; for her employ them all,
|
|
Commend them and condemn them to her service
|
|
Or to their own perdition.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Fairly offered.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
This shows a sound affection.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD But my daughter,
|
|
Say you the like to him?
|
|
|
|
PERDITA I cannot speak
|
|
So well, nothing so well, no, nor mean better.
|
|
By th' pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
|
|
The purity of his.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Take hands, a bargain.--
|
|
And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to 't:
|
|
I give my daughter to him and will make
|
|
Her portion equal his.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL O, that must be
|
|
I' th' virtue of your daughter. One being dead,
|
|
I shall have more than you can dream of yet,
|
|
Enough then for your wonder. But come on,
|
|
Contract us fore these witnesses.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Come, your hand--
|
|
And daughter, yours.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES, [To Florizell] Soft, swain, awhile, beseech
|
|
you.
|
|
Have you a father?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL I have, but what of him?
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
Knows he of this?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL He neither does nor shall.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Methinks a father
|
|
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
|
|
That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,
|
|
Is not your father grown incapable
|
|
Of reasonable affairs? Is he not stupid
|
|
With age and alt'ring rheums? Can he speak? Hear?
|
|
Know man from man? Dispute his own estate?
|
|
Lies he not bedrid, and again does nothing
|
|
But what he did being childish?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL No, good sir.
|
|
He has his health and ampler strength indeed
|
|
Than most have of his age.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES By my white beard,
|
|
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
|
|
Something unfilial. Reason my son
|
|
Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason
|
|
The father, all whose joy is nothing else
|
|
But fair posterity, should hold some counsel
|
|
In such a business.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL I yield all this;
|
|
But for some other reasons, my grave sir,
|
|
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
|
|
My father of this business.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Let him know 't.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
He shall not.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Prithee let him.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL No, he must not.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD
|
|
Let him, my son. He shall not need to grieve
|
|
At knowing of thy choice.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Come, come, he must not.
|
|
Mark our contract.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES, [removing his disguise] Mark your divorce,
|
|
young sir,
|
|
Whom son I dare not call. Thou art too base
|
|
To be acknowledged. Thou a scepter's heir
|
|
That thus affects a sheep-hook!--Thou, old traitor,
|
|
I am sorry that by hanging thee I can
|
|
But shorten thy life one week.--And thou, fresh
|
|
piece
|
|
Of excellent witchcraft, whom of force must know
|
|
The royal fool thou cop'st with--
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD O, my heart!
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
I'll have thy beauty scratched with briers and made
|
|
More homely than thy state.--For thee, fond boy,
|
|
If I may ever know thou dost but sigh
|
|
That thou no more shalt see this knack--as never
|
|
I mean thou shalt--we'll bar thee from succession,
|
|
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
|
|
Far'r than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words.
|
|
Follow us to the court. [To Shepherd.] Thou, churl,
|
|
for this time,
|
|
Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
|
|
From the dead blow of it.--And you, enchantment,
|
|
Worthy enough a herdsman--yea, him too,
|
|
That makes himself, but for our honor therein,
|
|
Unworthy thee--if ever henceforth thou
|
|
These rural latches to his entrance open,
|
|
Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
|
|
I will devise a death as cruel for thee
|
|
As thou art tender to 't. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Even here undone.
|
|
I was not much afeard, for once or twice
|
|
I was about to speak and tell him plainly
|
|
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
|
|
Hides not his visage from our cottage but
|
|
Looks on alike. [To Florizell.] Will 't please you, sir,
|
|
be gone?
|
|
I told you what would come of this. Beseech you,
|
|
Of your own state take care. This dream of mine--
|
|
Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
|
|
But milk my ewes and weep.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO, [to Shepherd] Why, how now, father?
|
|
Speak ere thou diest.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD I cannot speak, nor think,
|
|
Nor dare to know that which I know. [To Florizell.]
|
|
O sir,
|
|
You have undone a man of fourscore three,
|
|
That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,
|
|
To die upon the bed my father died,
|
|
To lie close by his honest bones; but now
|
|
Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me
|
|
Where no priest shovels in dust. [To Perdita.] O
|
|
cursed wretch,
|
|
That knew'st this was the Prince, and wouldst
|
|
adventure
|
|
To mingle faith with him!--Undone, undone!
|
|
If I might die within this hour, I have lived
|
|
To die when I desire. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL, [to Perdita] Why look you so upon me?
|
|
I am but sorry, not afeard; delayed,
|
|
But nothing altered. What I was, I am,
|
|
More straining on for plucking back, not following
|
|
My leash unwillingly.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Gracious my lord,
|
|
You know your father's temper. At this time
|
|
He will allow no speech, which I do guess
|
|
You do not purpose to him; and as hardly
|
|
Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear.
|
|
Then, till the fury of his Highness settle,
|
|
Come not before him.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL I not purpose it.
|
|
I think Camillo?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO, [removing his disguise] Even he, my lord.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA, [to Florizell]
|
|
How often have I told you 'twould be thus?
|
|
How often said my dignity would last
|
|
But till 'twere known?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL It cannot fail but by
|
|
The violation of my faith; and then
|
|
Let nature crush the sides o' th' Earth together
|
|
And mar the seeds within. Lift up thy looks.
|
|
From my succession wipe me, father. I
|
|
Am heir to my affection.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Be advised.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
I am, and by my fancy. If my reason
|
|
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason.
|
|
If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,
|
|
Do bid it welcome.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO This is desperate, sir.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
So call it; but it does fulfill my vow.
|
|
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
|
|
Not for Bohemia nor the pomp that may
|
|
Be thereat gleaned, for all the sun sees or
|
|
The close earth wombs or the profound seas hides
|
|
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
|
|
To this my fair beloved. Therefore, I pray you,
|
|
As you have ever been my father's honored friend,
|
|
When he shall miss me, as in faith I mean not
|
|
To see him anymore, cast your good counsels
|
|
Upon his passion. Let myself and fortune
|
|
Tug for the time to come. This you may know
|
|
And so deliver: I am put to sea
|
|
With her who here I cannot hold on shore.
|
|
And most opportune to our need I have
|
|
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared
|
|
For this design. What course I mean to hold
|
|
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
|
|
Concern me the reporting.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO O my lord,
|
|
I would your spirit were easier for advice
|
|
Or stronger for your need.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Hark, Perdita.--
|
|
I'll hear you by and by.
|
|
[Florizell and Perdita walk aside.]
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO He's irremovable,
|
|
Resolved for flight. Now were I happy if
|
|
His going I could frame to serve my turn,
|
|
Save him from danger, do him love and honor,
|
|
Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia
|
|
And that unhappy king, my master, whom
|
|
I so much thirst to see.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL, [coming forward] Now, good Camillo,
|
|
I am so fraught with curious business that
|
|
I leave out ceremony.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Sir, I think
|
|
You have heard of my poor services i' th' love
|
|
That I have borne your father?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Very nobly
|
|
Have you deserved. It is my father's music
|
|
To speak your deeds, not little of his care
|
|
To have them recompensed as thought on.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Well, my
|
|
lord,
|
|
If you may please to think I love the King
|
|
And, through him, what's nearest to him, which is
|
|
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction,
|
|
If your more ponderous and settled project
|
|
May suffer alteration. On mine honor,
|
|
I'll point you where you shall have such receiving
|
|
As shall become your Highness, where you may
|
|
Enjoy your mistress--from the whom I see
|
|
There's no disjunction to be made but by,
|
|
As heavens forfend, your ruin--marry her,
|
|
And with my best endeavors in your absence,
|
|
Your discontenting father strive to qualify
|
|
And bring him up to liking.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL How, Camillo,
|
|
May this, almost a miracle, be done,
|
|
That I may call thee something more than man,
|
|
And after that trust to thee?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Have you thought on
|
|
A place whereto you'll go?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Not any yet.
|
|
But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty
|
|
To what we wildly do, so we profess
|
|
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies
|
|
Of every wind that blows.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Then list to me.
|
|
This follows: if you will not change your purpose
|
|
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia,
|
|
And there present yourself and your fair princess,
|
|
For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes.
|
|
She shall be habited as it becomes
|
|
The partner of your bed. Methinks I see
|
|
Leontes opening his free arms and weeping
|
|
His welcomes forth, asks thee, the son, forgiveness,
|
|
As 'twere i' th' father's person; kisses the hands
|
|
Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him
|
|
'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness. Th' one
|
|
He chides to hell and bids the other grow
|
|
Faster than thought or time.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Worthy Camillo,
|
|
What color for my visitation shall I
|
|
Hold up before him?
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Sent by the King your father
|
|
To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,
|
|
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
|
|
What you, as from your father, shall deliver,
|
|
Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down,
|
|
The which shall point you forth at every sitting
|
|
What you must say, that he shall not perceive
|
|
But that you have your father's bosom there
|
|
And speak his very heart.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL I am bound to you.
|
|
There is some sap in this.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO A course more promising
|
|
Than a wild dedication of yourselves
|
|
To unpathed waters, undreamed shores, most
|
|
certain
|
|
To miseries enough; no hope to help you,
|
|
But as you shake off one to take another;
|
|
Nothing so certain as your anchors, who
|
|
Do their best office if they can but stay you
|
|
Where you'll be loath to be. Besides, you know
|
|
Prosperity's the very bond of love,
|
|
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
|
|
Affliction alters.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA One of these is true.
|
|
I think affliction may subdue the cheek
|
|
But not take in the mind.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Yea, say you so?
|
|
There shall not at your father's house these seven
|
|
years
|
|
Be born another such.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL My good Camillo,
|
|
She's as forward of her breeding as she is
|
|
I' th' rear our birth.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO I cannot say 'tis pity
|
|
She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress
|
|
To most that teach.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Your pardon, sir. For this
|
|
I'll blush you thanks.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL My prettiest Perdita.
|
|
But O, the thorns we stand upon!--Camillo,
|
|
Preserver of my father, now of me,
|
|
The medicine of our house, how shall we do?
|
|
We are not furnished like Bohemia's son,
|
|
Nor shall appear in Sicilia.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO My lord,
|
|
Fear none of this. I think you know my fortunes
|
|
Do all lie there. It shall be so my care
|
|
To have you royally appointed as if
|
|
The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
|
|
That you may know you shall not want, one word.
|
|
[They step aside and talk.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Autolycus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Ha, ha, what a fool Honesty is! And Trust,
|
|
his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have
|
|
sold all my trumpery. Not a counterfeit stone, not a
|
|
ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table book, ballad,
|
|
knife, tape, glove, shoe tie, bracelet, horn ring,
|
|
to keep my pack from fasting. They throng who
|
|
should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed
|
|
and brought a benediction to the buyer; by which
|
|
means I saw whose purse was best in picture, and
|
|
what I saw, to my good use I remembered. My
|
|
clown, who wants but something to be a reasonable
|
|
man, grew so in love with the wenches' song that he
|
|
would not stir his pettitoes till he had both tune and
|
|
words, which so drew the rest of the herd to me that
|
|
all their other senses stuck in ears. You might have
|
|
pinched a placket, it was senseless; 'twas nothing to
|
|
geld a codpiece of a purse. I could have filed
|
|
keys off that hung in chains. No hearing, no feeling,
|
|
but my sir's song and admiring the nothing of it. So
|
|
that in this time of lethargy I picked and cut most of
|
|
their festival purses. And had not the old man come
|
|
in with a hubbub against his daughter and the
|
|
King's son, and scared my choughs from the chaff, I
|
|
had not left a purse alive in the whole army.
|
|
[Camillo, Florizell, and Perdita come forward.]
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO, [to Florizell]
|
|
Nay, but my letters, by this means being there
|
|
So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
And those that you'll procure from King Leontes--
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO
|
|
Shall satisfy your father.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA Happy be you!
|
|
All that you speak shows fair.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO, [noticing Autolycus] Who have we here?
|
|
We'll make an instrument of this, omit
|
|
Nothing may give us aid.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [aside]
|
|
If they have overheard me now, why, hanging.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO How now, good fellow? Why shak'st thou so?
|
|
Fear not, man. Here's no harm intended to thee.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I am a poor fellow, sir.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Why, be so still. Here's nobody will steal that
|
|
from thee. Yet for the outside of thy poverty we
|
|
must make an exchange. Therefore discase thee
|
|
instantly--thou must think there's a necessity in
|
|
't--and change garments with this gentleman.
|
|
Though the pennyworth on his side be the worst,
|
|
yet hold thee, there's some boot.
|
|
[He hands Autolycus money.]
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I am a poor fellow, sir. [Aside.] I know you
|
|
well enough.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Nay, prithee, dispatch. The gentleman is half
|
|
flayed already.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Are you in earnest, sir? [Aside.] I smell the
|
|
trick on 't.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Dispatch, I prithee.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Indeed, I have had earnest, but I cannot
|
|
with conscience take it.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Unbuckle, unbuckle.
|
|
[Florizell and Autolycus exchange garments.]
|
|
Fortunate mistress--let my prophecy
|
|
Come home to you!--you must retire yourself
|
|
Into some covert. Take your sweetheart's hat
|
|
And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,
|
|
Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
|
|
The truth of your own seeming, that you may--
|
|
For I do fear eyes over--to shipboard
|
|
Get undescried.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA I see the play so lies
|
|
That I must bear a part.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO No remedy.--
|
|
Have you done there?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Should I now meet my father,
|
|
He would not call me son.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO Nay, you shall have no hat.
|
|
[He gives Florizell's hat to Perdita.]
|
|
Come, lady, come.--Farewell, my friend.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Adieu, sir.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
O Perdita, what have we twain forgot?
|
|
Pray you, a word. [They talk aside.]
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO, [aside]
|
|
What I do next shall be to tell the King
|
|
Of this escape, and whither they are bound;
|
|
Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail
|
|
To force him after, in whose company
|
|
I shall re-view Sicilia, for whose sight
|
|
I have a woman's longing.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Fortune speed us!--
|
|
Thus we set on, Camillo, to th' seaside.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO The swifter speed the better.
|
|
[Camillo, Florizell, and Perdita exit.]
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I understand the business; I hear it. To have
|
|
an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand is
|
|
necessary for a cutpurse; a good nose is requisite
|
|
also, to smell out work for th' other senses. I see this
|
|
is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an
|
|
exchange had this been without boot! What a boot
|
|
is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do this
|
|
year connive at us, and we may do anything extempore.
|
|
The Prince himself is about a piece of iniquity,
|
|
stealing away from his father with his clog at his
|
|
heels. If I thought it were a piece of honesty to
|
|
acquaint the King withal, I would not do 't. I hold it
|
|
the more knavery to conceal it, and therein am I
|
|
constant to my profession.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Shepherd's Son and Shepherd, carrying the
|
|
bundle and the box.]
|
|
|
|
Aside, aside! Here is more matter for a hot brain.
|
|
Every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging,
|
|
yields a careful man work. [He moves aside.]
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] 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.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Nay, but hear me.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Nay, but hear me!
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Go to, then.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON She being none of your flesh and
|
|
blood, your flesh and blood has not offended the
|
|
King, and so your flesh and blood is not to be
|
|
punished by him. Show those things you found
|
|
about her, those secret things, all but what she has
|
|
with her. This being done, let the law go whistle, I
|
|
warrant you.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD I will tell the King all, every word, yea, and
|
|
his son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest
|
|
man, neither to his father nor to me, to go about to
|
|
make me the King's brother-in-law.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest
|
|
off you could have been to him, and then your
|
|
blood had been the dearer by I know how much an
|
|
ounce.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [aside] Very wisely, puppies.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Well, let us to the King. There is that in this
|
|
fardel will make him scratch his beard.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [aside] I know not what impediment this
|
|
complaint may be to the flight of my master.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Pray heartily he be at' palace.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS, [aside] Though I am not naturally honest,
|
|
I am so sometimes by chance. Let me pocket up my
|
|
peddler's excrement. [(He removes his false beard.)]
|
|
How now, rustics, whither are you bound?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD To th' palace, an it like your Worship.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Your affairs there? What, with whom, the
|
|
condition of that fardel, the place of your dwelling,
|
|
your names, your ages, of what having, breeding,
|
|
and anything that is fitting to be known, discover!
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON We are but plain fellows, sir.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have
|
|
no lying. It becomes none but tradesmen, and they
|
|
often give us soldiers the lie, but we pay them for it
|
|
with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore
|
|
they do not give us the lie.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Your Worship had like to have given
|
|
us one, if you had not taken yourself with the
|
|
manner.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier.
|
|
Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings?
|
|
Hath not my gait in it the measure of the
|
|
court? Receives not thy nose court odor from me?
|
|
Reflect I not on thy baseness court contempt?
|
|
Think'st thou, for that I insinuate and toze from
|
|
thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I am
|
|
courtier cap-a-pie; and one that will either push on
|
|
or pluck back thy business there. Whereupon I
|
|
command thee to open thy affair.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD My business, sir, is to the King.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS What advocate hast thou to him?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD I know not, an 't like you.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [aside to Shepherd] Advocate's the
|
|
court word for a pheasant. Say you have none.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD, [to Autolycus] None, sir. I have no pheasant,
|
|
cock nor hen.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS
|
|
How blest are we that are not simple men!
|
|
Yet Nature might have made me as these are.
|
|
Therefore I will not disdain.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] This cannot be but a
|
|
great courtier.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD His garments are rich, but he wears them
|
|
not handsomely.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON He seems to be the more noble in
|
|
being fantastical. A great man, I'll warrant. I know
|
|
by the picking on 's teeth.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS The fardel there. What's i' th' fardel?
|
|
Wherefore that box?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and
|
|
box which none must know but the King, and
|
|
which he shall know within this hour if I may come
|
|
to th' speech of him.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Age, thou hast lost thy labor.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Why, sir?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS The King is not at the palace. He is gone
|
|
aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air
|
|
himself, for, if thou beest capable of things serious,
|
|
thou must know the King is full of grief.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD So 'tis said, sir--about his son, that should
|
|
have married a shepherd's daughter.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS If that shepherd be not in handfast, let him
|
|
fly. The curses he shall have, the tortures he shall
|
|
feel, will break the back of man, the heart of
|
|
monster.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Think you so, sir?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Not he alone shall suffer what wit can
|
|
make heavy and vengeance bitter; but those that are
|
|
germane to him, though removed fifty times, shall
|
|
all come under the hangman--which, though it be
|
|
great pity, yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling
|
|
rogue, a ram tender, to offer to have his daughter
|
|
come into grace! Some say he shall be stoned, but
|
|
that death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne
|
|
into a sheepcote? All deaths are too few, the sharpest
|
|
too easy.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you
|
|
hear, an 't like you, sir?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then
|
|
'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a
|
|
wasps'-nest; then stand till he be three-quarters and
|
|
a dram dead, then recovered again with aqua vitae
|
|
or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and
|
|
in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall
|
|
he be set against a brick wall, the sun looking with a
|
|
southward eye upon him, where he is to behold him
|
|
with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these
|
|
traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smiled at,
|
|
their offenses being so capital? Tell me--for you
|
|
seem to be honest plain men--what you have to the
|
|
King. Being something gently considered, I'll bring
|
|
you where he is aboard, tender your persons to his
|
|
presence, whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be
|
|
in man besides the King to effect your suits, here is
|
|
man shall do it.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] He seems to be of
|
|
great authority. Close with him, give him gold; and
|
|
though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft
|
|
led by the nose with gold. Show the inside of your
|
|
purse to the outside of his hand, and no more ado.
|
|
Remember: "stoned," and "flayed alive."
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD, [to Autolycus] An 't please you, sir, to
|
|
undertake the business for us, here is that gold I
|
|
have. I'll make it as much more, and leave this
|
|
young man in pawn till I bring it you.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS After I have done what I promised?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Ay, sir.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Well, give me the moiety. [Shepherd hands
|
|
him money.] Are you a party in this business?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON In some sort, sir; but though my case
|
|
be a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS O, that's the case of the shepherd's son!
|
|
Hang him, he'll be made an example.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] Comfort, good comfort.
|
|
We must to the King, and show our strange
|
|
sights. He must know 'tis none of your daughter nor
|
|
my sister. We are gone else.--Sir, I will give you as
|
|
much as this old man does when the business is
|
|
performed, and remain, as he says, your pawn till it
|
|
be brought you.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I will trust you. Walk before toward the
|
|
seaside. Go on the right hand. I will but look upon
|
|
the hedge, and follow you.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Shepherd] We are blessed in this
|
|
man, as I may say, even blessed.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Let's before, as he bids us. He was provided
|
|
to do us good. [Shepherd and his son exit.]
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune
|
|
would not suffer me. She drops booties in my
|
|
mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion:
|
|
gold, and a means to do the Prince my master good;
|
|
which who knows how that may turn back to my
|
|
advancement? I will bring these two moles, these
|
|
blind ones, aboard him. If he think it fit to shore
|
|
them again and that the complaint they have to the
|
|
King concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue
|
|
for being so far officious, for I am proof against that
|
|
title and what shame else belongs to 't. To him will I
|
|
present them. There may be matter in it.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 5
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and
|
|
Servants.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES
|
|
Sir, you have done enough, and have performed
|
|
A saintlike sorrow. No fault could you make
|
|
Which you have not redeemed--indeed, paid down
|
|
More penitence than done trespass. At the last,
|
|
Do as the heavens have done: forget your evil;
|
|
With them forgive yourself.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Whilst I remember
|
|
Her and her virtues, I cannot forget
|
|
My blemishes in them, and so still think of
|
|
The wrong I did myself, which was so much
|
|
That heirless it hath made my kingdom and
|
|
Destroyed the sweet'st companion that e'er man
|
|
Bred his hopes out of.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA True, too true, my lord.
|
|
If one by one you wedded all the world,
|
|
Or from the all that are took something good
|
|
To make a perfect woman, she you killed
|
|
Would be unparalleled.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES I think so. Killed?
|
|
She I killed? I did so, but thou strik'st me
|
|
Sorely to say I did. It is as bitter
|
|
Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now,
|
|
Say so but seldom.
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES Not at all, good lady.
|
|
You might have spoken a thousand things that
|
|
would
|
|
Have done the time more benefit and graced
|
|
Your kindness better.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA You are one of those
|
|
Would have him wed again.
|
|
|
|
DION If you would not so,
|
|
You pity not the state nor the remembrance
|
|
Of his most sovereign name, consider little
|
|
What dangers by his Highness' fail of issue
|
|
May drop upon his kingdom and devour
|
|
Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy
|
|
Than to rejoice the former queen is well?
|
|
What holier than, for royalty's repair,
|
|
For present comfort, and for future good,
|
|
To bless the bed of majesty again
|
|
With a sweet fellow to 't?
|
|
|
|
PAULINA There is none worthy,
|
|
Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods
|
|
Will have fulfilled their secret purposes.
|
|
For has not the divine Apollo said,
|
|
Is 't not the tenor of his oracle,
|
|
That King Leontes shall not have an heir
|
|
Till his lost child be found? Which that it shall
|
|
Is all as monstrous to our human reason
|
|
As my Antigonus to break his grave
|
|
And come again to me--who, on my life,
|
|
Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel
|
|
My lord should to the heavens be contrary,
|
|
Oppose against their wills. Care not for issue.
|
|
The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander
|
|
Left his to th' worthiest; so his successor
|
|
Was like to be the best.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Good Paulina,
|
|
Who hast the memory of Hermione,
|
|
I know, in honor, O, that ever I
|
|
Had squared me to thy counsel! Then even now
|
|
I might have looked upon my queen's full eyes,
|
|
Have taken treasure from her lips--
|
|
|
|
PAULINA And left them
|
|
More rich for what they yielded.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Thou speak'st truth.
|
|
No more such wives, therefore no wife. One worse,
|
|
And better used, would make her sainted spirit
|
|
Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,
|
|
Where we offenders now appear, soul-vexed,
|
|
And begin "Why to me?"
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Had she such power,
|
|
She had just cause.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES She had, and would incense me
|
|
To murder her I married.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I should so.
|
|
Were I the ghost that walked, I'd bid you mark
|
|
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in 't
|
|
You chose her. Then I'd shriek, that even your ears
|
|
Should rift to hear me, and the words that followed
|
|
Should be "Remember mine."
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Stars, stars,
|
|
And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;
|
|
I'll have no wife, Paulina.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Will you swear
|
|
Never to marry but by my free leave?
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Never, Paulina, so be blest my spirit.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES
|
|
You tempt him over-much.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Unless another
|
|
As like Hermione as is her picture
|
|
Affront his eye.
|
|
|
|
CLEOMENES Good madam--
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I have done.
|
|
Yet if my lord will marry--if you will, sir,
|
|
No remedy but you will--give me the office
|
|
To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young
|
|
As was your former, but she shall be such
|
|
As, walked your first queen's ghost, it should take
|
|
joy
|
|
To see her in your arms.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES My true Paulina,
|
|
We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA That
|
|
Shall be when your first queen's again in breath,
|
|
Never till then.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SERVANT
|
|
One that gives out himself Prince Florizell,
|
|
Son of Polixenes, with his princess--she
|
|
The fairest I have yet beheld--desires access
|
|
To your high presence.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES What with him? He comes not
|
|
Like to his father's greatness. His approach,
|
|
So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us
|
|
'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced
|
|
By need and accident. What train?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT But few,
|
|
And those but mean.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES His princess, say you, with him?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT
|
|
Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think,
|
|
That e'er the sun shone bright on.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA O Hermione,
|
|
As every present time doth boast itself
|
|
Above a better gone, so must thy grave
|
|
Give way to what's seen now. [To Servant.] Sir, you
|
|
yourself
|
|
Have said and writ so--but your writing now
|
|
Is colder than that theme--she had not been
|
|
Nor was not to be equalled. Thus your verse
|
|
Flowed with her beauty once. 'Tis shrewdly ebbed
|
|
To say you have seen a better.
|
|
|
|
SERVANT Pardon, madam.
|
|
The one I have almost forgot--your pardon;
|
|
The other, when she has obtained your eye,
|
|
Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
|
|
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
|
|
Of all professors else, make proselytes
|
|
Of who she but bid follow.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA How, not women?
|
|
|
|
SERVANT
|
|
Women will love her that she is a woman
|
|
More worth than any man; men, that she is
|
|
The rarest of all women.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Go, Cleomenes.
|
|
Yourself, assisted with your honored friends,
|
|
Bring them to our embracement.
|
|
[Cleomenes and others exit.]
|
|
Still, 'tis strange
|
|
He thus should steal upon us.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Had our prince,
|
|
Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had paired
|
|
Well with this lord. There was not full a month
|
|
Between their births.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Prithee, no more; cease. Thou
|
|
know'st
|
|
He dies to me again when talked of. Sure,
|
|
When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
|
|
Will bring me to consider that which may
|
|
Unfurnish me of reason. They are come.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Florizell, Perdita, Cleomenes, and others.]
|
|
|
|
Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince,
|
|
For she did print your royal father off,
|
|
Conceiving you. Were I but twenty-one,
|
|
Your father's image is so hit in you,
|
|
His very air, that I should call you brother,
|
|
As I did him, and speak of something wildly
|
|
By us performed before. Most dearly welcome,
|
|
And your fair princess--goddess! O, alas,
|
|
I lost a couple that 'twixt heaven and Earth
|
|
Might thus have stood, begetting wonder, as
|
|
You, gracious couple, do. And then I lost--
|
|
All mine own folly--the society,
|
|
Amity too, of your brave father, whom,
|
|
Though bearing misery, I desire my life
|
|
Once more to look on him.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL By his command
|
|
Have I here touched Sicilia, and from him
|
|
Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,
|
|
Can send his brother. And but infirmity,
|
|
Which waits upon worn times, hath something
|
|
seized
|
|
His wished ability, he had himself
|
|
The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
|
|
Measured to look upon you, whom he loves--
|
|
He bade me say so--more than all the scepters
|
|
And those that bear them living.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES O my brother,
|
|
Good gentleman, the wrongs I have done thee stir
|
|
Afresh within me, and these thy offices,
|
|
So rarely kind, are as interpreters
|
|
Of my behindhand slackness. Welcome hither,
|
|
As is the spring to th' earth. And hath he too
|
|
Exposed this paragon to th' fearful usage,
|
|
At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,
|
|
To greet a man not worth her pains, much less
|
|
Th' adventure of her person?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Good my lord,
|
|
She came from Libya.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Where the warlike Smalus,
|
|
That noble honored lord, is feared and loved?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
Most royal sir, from thence, from him, whose
|
|
daughter
|
|
His tears proclaimed his, parting with her. Thence,
|
|
A prosperous south wind friendly, we have crossed
|
|
To execute the charge my father gave me
|
|
For visiting your Highness. My best train
|
|
I have from your Sicilian shores dismissed,
|
|
Who for Bohemia bend, to signify
|
|
Not only my success in Libya, sir,
|
|
But my arrival and my wife's in safety
|
|
Here where we are.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES The blessed gods
|
|
Purge all infection from our air whilst you
|
|
Do climate here! You have a holy father,
|
|
A graceful gentleman, against whose person,
|
|
So sacred as it is, I have done sin,
|
|
For which the heavens, taking angry note,
|
|
Have left me issueless. And your father's blest,
|
|
As he from heaven merits it, with you,
|
|
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been
|
|
Might I a son and daughter now have looked on,
|
|
Such goodly things as you?
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Lord.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORD Most noble sir,
|
|
That which I shall report will bear no credit,
|
|
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,
|
|
Bohemia greets you from himself by me,
|
|
Desires you to attach his son, who has--
|
|
His dignity and duty both cast off--
|
|
Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
|
|
A shepherd's daughter.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Where's Bohemia? Speak.
|
|
|
|
LORD
|
|
Here in your city. I now came from him.
|
|
I speak amazedly, and it becomes
|
|
My marvel and my message. To your court
|
|
Whiles he was hast'ning--in the chase, it seems,
|
|
Of this fair couple--meets he on the way
|
|
The father of this seeming lady and
|
|
Her brother, having both their country quitted
|
|
With this young prince.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL Camillo has betrayed me,
|
|
Whose honor and whose honesty till now
|
|
Endured all weathers.
|
|
|
|
LORD Lay 't so to his charge.
|
|
He's with the King your father.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Who? Camillo?
|
|
|
|
LORD
|
|
Camillo, sir. I spake with him, who now
|
|
Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
|
|
Wretches so quake. They kneel, they kiss the earth,
|
|
Forswear themselves as often as they speak.
|
|
Bohemia stops his ears and threatens them
|
|
With divers deaths in death.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA O my poor father!
|
|
The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
|
|
Our contract celebrated.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES You are married?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL
|
|
We are not, sir, nor are we like to be.
|
|
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first.
|
|
The odds for high and low's alike.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES My lord,
|
|
Is this the daughter of a king?
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL She is
|
|
When once she is my wife.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
That "once," I see, by your good father's speed
|
|
Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
|
|
Most sorry, you have broken from his liking,
|
|
Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry
|
|
Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,
|
|
That you might well enjoy her.
|
|
|
|
FLORIZELL, [to Perdita] Dear, look up.
|
|
Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
|
|
Should chase us with my father, power no jot
|
|
Hath she to change our loves.--Beseech you, sir,
|
|
Remember since you owed no more to time
|
|
Than I do now. With thought of such affections,
|
|
Step forth mine advocate. At your request,
|
|
My father will grant precious things as trifles.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress,
|
|
Which he counts but a trifle.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Sir, my liege,
|
|
Your eye hath too much youth in 't. Not a month
|
|
'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such
|
|
gazes
|
|
Than what you look on now.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES I thought of her
|
|
Even in these looks I made. [To Florizell.] But your
|
|
petition
|
|
Is yet unanswered. I will to your father.
|
|
Your honor not o'erthrown by your desires,
|
|
I am friend to them and you. Upon which errand
|
|
I now go toward him. Therefore follow me,
|
|
And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Autolycus and a Gentleman.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Beseech you, sir, were you present at this
|
|
relation?
|
|
|
|
FIRST GENTLEMAN I was by at the opening of the fardel,
|
|
heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he
|
|
found it, whereupon, after a little amazedness, we
|
|
were all commanded out of the chamber. Only this,
|
|
methought, I heard the shepherd say: he found the
|
|
child.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I would most gladly know the issue of it.
|
|
|
|
FIRST GENTLEMAN I make a broken delivery of the
|
|
business, but the changes I perceived in the King
|
|
and Camillo were very notes of admiration. They
|
|
seemed almost, with staring on one another, to tear
|
|
the cases of their eyes. There was speech in their
|
|
dumbness, language in their very gesture. They
|
|
looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, or
|
|
one destroyed. A notable passion of wonder appeared
|
|
in them, but the wisest beholder that knew
|
|
no more but seeing could not say if th' importance
|
|
were joy or sorrow; but in the extremity of the one it
|
|
must needs be.
|
|
|
|
[Enter another Gentleman.]
|
|
|
|
Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more.--
|
|
The news, Rogero?
|
|
|
|
SECOND GENTLEMAN Nothing but bonfires. The oracle
|
|
is fulfilled: the King's daughter is found! Such a
|
|
deal of wonder is broken out within this hour that
|
|
ballad makers cannot be able to express it.
|
|
|
|
[Enter another Gentleman.]
|
|
|
|
Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward. He can
|
|
deliver you more.--How goes it now, sir? This news
|
|
which is called true is so like an old tale that the
|
|
verity of it is in strong suspicion. Has the King
|
|
found his heir?
|
|
|
|
THIRD GENTLEMAN Most true, if ever truth were pregnant
|
|
by circumstance. That which you hear you'll
|
|
swear you see, there is such unity in the proofs. The
|
|
mantle of Queen Hermione's, her jewel about the
|
|
neck of it, the letters of Antigonus found with it,
|
|
which they know to be his character, the majesty of
|
|
the creature in resemblance of the mother, the
|
|
affection of nobleness which nature shows above
|
|
her breeding, and many other evidences proclaim
|
|
her with all certainty to be the King's daughter. Did
|
|
you see the meeting of the two kings?
|
|
|
|
SECOND GENTLEMAN No.
|
|
|
|
THIRD GENTLEMAN Then have you lost a sight which
|
|
was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might
|
|
you have beheld one joy crown another, so and in
|
|
such manner that it seemed sorrow wept to take
|
|
leave of them, for their joy waded in tears. There
|
|
was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with
|
|
countenance of such distraction that they were to
|
|
be known by garment, not by favor. Our king, being
|
|
ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found
|
|
daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss,
|
|
cries "O, thy mother, thy mother!" then asks Bohemia
|
|
forgiveness, then embraces his son-in-law, then
|
|
again worries he his daughter with clipping her.
|
|
Now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by
|
|
like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns.
|
|
I never heard of such another encounter, which
|
|
lames report to follow it and undoes description to
|
|
do it.
|
|
|
|
SECOND GENTLEMAN What, pray you, became of Antigonus,
|
|
that carried hence the child?
|
|
|
|
THIRD GENTLEMAN Like an old tale still, which will
|
|
have matter to rehearse though credit be asleep and
|
|
not an ear open: he was torn to pieces with a bear.
|
|
This avouches the shepherd's son, who has not only
|
|
his innocence, which seems much, to justify him,
|
|
but a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina
|
|
knows.
|
|
|
|
FIRST GENTLEMAN What became of his bark and his
|
|
followers?
|
|
|
|
THIRD GENTLEMAN Wracked the same instant of their
|
|
master's death and in the view of the shepherd, so
|
|
that all the instruments which aided to expose the
|
|
child were even then lost when it was found. But O,
|
|
the noble combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow was
|
|
fought in Paulina. She had one eye declined for the
|
|
loss of her husband, another elevated that the
|
|
oracle was fulfilled. She lifted the Princess from the
|
|
earth, and so locks her in embracing as if she would
|
|
pin her to her heart that she might no more be in
|
|
danger of losing.
|
|
|
|
FIRST GENTLEMAN The dignity of this act was worth the
|
|
audience of kings and princes, for by such was it
|
|
acted.
|
|
|
|
THIRD GENTLEMAN One of the prettiest touches of all,
|
|
and that which angled for mine eyes--caught the
|
|
water, though not the fish--was when at the relation
|
|
of the Queen's death--with the manner how
|
|
she came to 't bravely confessed and lamented by
|
|
the King--how attentiveness wounded his daughter,
|
|
till, from one sign of dolor to another, she did,
|
|
with an "Alas," I would fain say bleed tears, for I am
|
|
sure my heart wept blood. Who was most marble
|
|
there changed color; some swooned, all sorrowed.
|
|
If all the world could have seen 't, the woe had been
|
|
universal.
|
|
|
|
FIRST GENTLEMAN Are they returned to the court?
|
|
|
|
THIRD GENTLEMAN No. The Princess hearing of her
|
|
mother's statue, which is in the keeping of
|
|
Paulina--a piece many years in doing and now
|
|
newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio
|
|
Romano, who, had he himself eternity and could
|
|
put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of
|
|
her custom, so perfectly he is her ape; he so near to
|
|
Hermione hath done Hermione that they say one
|
|
would speak to her and stand in hope of answer.
|
|
Thither with all greediness of affection are they
|
|
gone, and there they intend to sup.
|
|
|
|
SECOND GENTLEMAN I thought she had some great
|
|
matter there in hand, for she hath privately twice or
|
|
thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione,
|
|
visited that removed house. Shall we thither and
|
|
with our company piece the rejoicing?
|
|
|
|
FIRST GENTLEMAN Who would be thence that has the
|
|
benefit of access? Every wink of an eye some new
|
|
grace will be born. Our absence makes us unthrifty
|
|
to our knowledge. Let's along.
|
|
[The Three Gentlemen exit.]
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Now, had I not the dash of my former life
|
|
in me, would preferment drop on my head. I
|
|
brought the old man and his son aboard the Prince,
|
|
told him I heard them talk of a fardel and I know
|
|
not what. But he at that time, overfond of the
|
|
shepherd's daughter--so he then took her to be--
|
|
who began to be much seasick, and himself little
|
|
better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery
|
|
remained undiscovered. But 'tis all one to
|
|
me, for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it
|
|
would not have relished among my other
|
|
discredits.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Shepherd and Shepherd's Son,
|
|
both dressed in rich clothing.]
|
|
|
|
Here come those I have done good to against my
|
|
will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their
|
|
fortune.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Come, boy, I am past more children, but thy
|
|
sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Autolycus] You are well met, sir.
|
|
You denied to fight with me this other day because I
|
|
was no gentleman born. See you these clothes? Say
|
|
you see them not and think me still no gentleman
|
|
born. You were best say these robes are not gentlemen
|
|
born. Give me the lie, do, and try whether I am
|
|
not now a gentleman born.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Ay, and have been so any time these
|
|
four hours.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD And so have I, boy.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON So you have--but I was a gentleman
|
|
born before my father. For the King's son took me
|
|
by the hand and called me brother, and then the
|
|
two kings called my father brother, and then the
|
|
Prince my brother and the Princess my sister called
|
|
my father father; and so we wept, and there was the
|
|
first gentlemanlike tears that ever we shed.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD We may live, son, to shed many more.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Ay, or else 'twere hard luck, being in
|
|
so preposterous estate as we are.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all
|
|
the faults I have committed to your Worship and to
|
|
give me your good report to the Prince my master.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD Prithee, son, do, for we must be gentle now
|
|
we are gentlemen.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON, [to Autolycus] Thou wilt amend thy
|
|
life?
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS Ay, an it like your good Worship.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Give me thy hand. I will swear to the
|
|
Prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in
|
|
Bohemia.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD You may say it, but not swear it.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Not swear it, now I am a gentleman?
|
|
Let boors and franklins say it; I'll swear it.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD How if it be false, son?
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman
|
|
may swear it in the behalf of his friend.--And
|
|
I'll swear to the Prince thou art a tall fellow of thy
|
|
hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know
|
|
thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou
|
|
wilt be drunk. But I'll swear it, and I would thou
|
|
wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.
|
|
|
|
AUTOLYCUS I will prove so, sir, to my power.
|
|
|
|
SHEPHERD'S SON Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow. If
|
|
I do not wonder how thou dar'st venture to be
|
|
drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark,
|
|
the Kings and Princes, our kindred, are going to see
|
|
the Queen's picture. Come, follow us. We'll be thy
|
|
good masters.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizell, Perdita, Camillo,
|
|
Paulina, and Lords.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
|
|
That I have had of thee!
|
|
|
|
PAULINA What, sovereign sir,
|
|
I did not well, I meant well. All my services
|
|
You have paid home. But that you have vouchsafed,
|
|
With your crowned brother and these your contracted
|
|
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
|
|
It is a surplus of your grace which never
|
|
My life may last to answer.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES O Paulina,
|
|
We honor you with trouble. But we came
|
|
To see the statue of our queen. Your gallery
|
|
Have we passed through, not without much content
|
|
In many singularities; but we saw not
|
|
That which my daughter came to look upon,
|
|
The statue of her mother.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA As she lived peerless,
|
|
So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
|
|
Excels whatever yet you looked upon
|
|
Or hand of man hath done. Therefore I keep it
|
|
Lonely, apart. But here it is. Prepare
|
|
To see the life as lively mocked as ever
|
|
Still sleep mocked death. Behold, and say 'tis well.
|
|
[She draws a curtain
|
|
to reveal Hermione (like a statue).]
|
|
I like your silence. It the more shows off
|
|
Your wonder. But yet speak. First you, my liege.
|
|
Comes it not something near?
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Her natural posture!--
|
|
Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
|
|
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she
|
|
In thy not chiding, for she was as tender
|
|
As infancy and grace.--But yet, Paulina,
|
|
Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
|
|
So aged as this seems.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES O, not by much!
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
So much the more our carver's excellence,
|
|
Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
|
|
As she lived now.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES As now she might have done,
|
|
So much to my good comfort as it is
|
|
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
|
|
Even with such life of majesty--warm life,
|
|
As now it coldly stands--when first I wooed her.
|
|
I am ashamed. Does not the stone rebuke me
|
|
For being more stone than it?--O royal piece,
|
|
There's magic in thy majesty, which has
|
|
My evils conjured to remembrance and
|
|
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
|
|
Standing like stone with thee.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA And give me leave,
|
|
And do not say 'tis superstition, that
|
|
I kneel, and then implore her blessing. [She kneels.]
|
|
Lady,
|
|
Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
|
|
Give me that hand of yours to kiss.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA O, patience!
|
|
The statue is but newly fixed; the color's
|
|
Not dry.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO, [to Leontes, who weeps]
|
|
My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
|
|
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,
|
|
So many summers dry. Scarce any joy
|
|
Did ever so long live; no sorrow
|
|
But killed itself much sooner.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Dear my brother,
|
|
Let him that was the cause of this have power
|
|
To take off so much grief from you as he
|
|
Will piece up in himself.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Indeed, my lord,
|
|
If I had thought the sight of my poor image
|
|
Would thus have wrought you--for the stone is
|
|
mine--
|
|
I'd not have showed it.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Do not draw the curtain.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest your fancy
|
|
May think anon it moves.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Let be, let be.
|
|
Would I were dead but that methinks already--
|
|
What was he that did make it?--See, my lord,
|
|
Would you not deem it breathed? And that those
|
|
veins
|
|
Did verily bear blood?
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES Masterly done.
|
|
The very life seems warm upon her lip.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
The fixture of her eye has motion in 't,
|
|
As we are mocked with art.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA I'll draw the curtain.
|
|
My lord's almost so far transported that
|
|
He'll think anon it lives.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES O sweet Paulina,
|
|
Make me to think so twenty years together!
|
|
No settled senses of the world can match
|
|
The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA
|
|
I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirred you, but
|
|
I could afflict you farther.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Do, Paulina,
|
|
For this affliction has a taste as sweet
|
|
As any cordial comfort. Still methinks
|
|
There is an air comes from her. What fine chisel
|
|
Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
|
|
For I will kiss her.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Good my lord, forbear.
|
|
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet.
|
|
You'll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
|
|
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?
|
|
|
|
LEONTES
|
|
No, not these twenty years.
|
|
|
|
PERDITA, [rising] So long could I
|
|
Stand by, a looker-on.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Either forbear,
|
|
Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
|
|
For more amazement. If you can behold it,
|
|
I'll make the statue move indeed, descend
|
|
And take you by the hand. But then you'll think--
|
|
Which I protest against--I am assisted
|
|
By wicked powers.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES What you can make her do
|
|
I am content to look on; what to speak,
|
|
I am content to hear, for 'tis as easy
|
|
To make her speak as move.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA It is required
|
|
You do awake your faith. Then all stand still--
|
|
Or those that think it is unlawful business
|
|
I am about, let them depart.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES Proceed.
|
|
No foot shall stir.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA Music, awake her! Strike!
|
|
[Music sounds.]
|
|
'Tis time. Descend. Be stone no more. Approach.
|
|
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come,
|
|
I'll fill your grave up. Stir, nay, come away.
|
|
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
|
|
Dear life redeems you.--You perceive she stirs.
|
|
|
|
[Hermione descends.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
Start not. Her actions shall be holy as
|
|
You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her
|
|
Until you see her die again, for then
|
|
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand.
|
|
When she was young, you wooed her; now in age
|
|
Is she become the suitor?
|
|
|
|
LEONTES O, she's warm!
|
|
If this be magic, let it be an art
|
|
Lawful as eating.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES She embraces him.
|
|
|
|
CAMILLO She hangs about his neck.
|
|
If she pertain to life, let her speak too.
|
|
|
|
POLIXENES
|
|
Ay, and make it manifest where she has lived,
|
|
Or how stol'n from the dead.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA That she is living,
|
|
Were it but told you, should be hooted at
|
|
Like an old tale, but it appears she lives,
|
|
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
|
|
[To Perdita.] Please you to interpose, fair madam.
|
|
Kneel
|
|
And pray your mother's blessing. [To Hermione.]
|
|
Turn, good lady.
|
|
Our Perdita is found.
|
|
|
|
HERMIONE You gods, look down,
|
|
And from your sacred vials pour your graces
|
|
Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own,
|
|
Where hast thou been preserved? Where lived? How
|
|
found
|
|
Thy father's court? For thou shalt hear that I,
|
|
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
|
|
Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved
|
|
Myself to see the issue.
|
|
|
|
PAULINA There's time enough for that,
|
|
Lest they desire upon this push to trouble
|
|
Your joys with like relation. Go together,
|
|
You precious winners all. Your exultation
|
|
Partake to everyone. I, an old turtle,
|
|
Will wing me to some withered bough and there
|
|
My mate, that's never to be found again,
|
|
Lament till I am lost.
|
|
|
|
LEONTES O peace, Paulina.
|
|
Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,
|
|
As I by thine a wife. This is a match,
|
|
And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found
|
|
mine--
|
|
But how is to be questioned, for I saw her,
|
|
As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many
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A prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far--
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For him, I partly know his mind--to find thee
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An honorable husband.--Come, Camillo,
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And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty
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Is richly noted and here justified
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By us, a pair of kings. Let's from this place.
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[To Hermione.] What, look upon my brother! Both
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your pardons
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That e'er I put between your holy looks
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My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law
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And son unto the King, whom heavens directing,
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Is troth-plight to your daughter.--Good Paulina,
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Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely
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Each one demand and answer to his part
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Performed in this wide gap of time since first
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We were dissevered. Hastily lead away.
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[They exit.]
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