3 Gent. One of the prett est 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 it, (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 it, the woe had been universal.

1 Gent. Are they returned to the court?

3 Gent. No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina.-a piece nany years in doing, and now nearly 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 is he 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.

2 Gent. 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?

1 Gent. Who would be thence, that has the bene. fit of access? every wink of an eye, some new grace will be born: our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. Let's along.

I

[Exeunt Gentlemen. Aut. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me, would preferment drop on my head. brought the old man and his son aboard the prince; told him I heard him talk of a fardel, and I know not what but he at that time, over-fond of the shepherd's daughter, (so he then took her to be.) who began to be much sea-sick, 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 Clown.

Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.

Shep. Come, boy; I am past more children; but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.

Clo. 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.

Aut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.

Shep. And so have I, boy.

Clo. 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 gentleman-like tears that ever we shed.

Shep. We may live, son, to shed many more. Clo. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so preposterous estate as we are.

Aut. 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.

Shep. Prythee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen.

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life?

Ant. Ay, an it like your good worship.

Clo. Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.

Shep. How if it be false, son?

Clo. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman but swear it in the behalf of his friend:-Ant P'T swear to the prince, thou art a tall fellow of ty hands, and that thou wilt not be drunk; but know, thou art no tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk; but I'll swear it: and would, thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands Aul. I will prove so, sir, to my power.

Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if ! do not wonder, how thou darest venture to drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not.—Hars' the kings and the princes, our kindred, are gong to see the queen's picture. Come, follow us: wo be thy good masters. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Room in Paulina's House.

Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA
CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords and Attendants.
Leon. O grave and good Paulina, the great com
fort
That I have had of thee!
Paul.

What, sovereign sir,
I did not well, I meant well: All my services,
You have paid home: but that you have vouchsaft 1
With your crown'd brother, and these your co
tracted

Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visil,
It is a surplus of your grace which never
My life may last to answer.
Leon.

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.
Paul.

As she liv'd peerless,

So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you look'd upon,
Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart: But here it is: prepare
To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever
Still sleep mock'd death: behold; and say, 'tis we'l
[PAULINA undraws a Curtain, and discovers a
Statue.

I like your silence, it the more shows off
Your wonder: but yet speak;-first, you my legs,
Comes it not something near?
Leon.
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.

Pol.
O, not by much.
Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence;
Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makesixt
As she liv'd now.
Leon.
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 woo'd her!
I am ashamed: Does not the stone rebuke me,
For being more stone than it -, royal piece,
There's magic in thy majesty; which has
My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee!

Per.

And give me leave;

And do not say 'tis superstition, that
I kneel, and then implore her blessing.-Lady,
Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours, to kiss.
Paul.

O, patience

The statue is but newly fix'd, the colors
Not dry.
Cam. 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 kill'd itself much sooner.
Pol.

• Yeomen

Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst,
So that, in this unjust divorce of us,
Fortune had left to both of us alike
What to delight in, what to sorrow for.
Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened
With lesser weight, but not with lesser woe,
Was carried with more speed before the wind;
And in our sight they three were taken up
By bishermen of Corinth, as we thought.
At length, another ship had seiz'd on us;
And, knowing whom it was their hap to save,
bave helpful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests;
And would have reft the fishers of their prey,
Had not their bark been very slow of sail,

And therefore homeward did they bend their

course.

Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss;
That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.

Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,

Do me the favor to dilate at full

What hath befall'n of them, and thee, till now.
Eze. My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,
At eighteen years became inquisitive
After his brother; and impórtun'd me.
That bis attendant (for his case was like,
Rett of his brother, but retain'd his name)
Might bear him company in the quest of him:
Wan whilst I labor'd of a love to see
I hazarded the loss of whom I lov'd.
give summers have I spent in furthest Greece,
koaming clean through the bounds of Asia,
And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus;
Hapeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought,
(r that, or any place that harbors men.
Eut here must end the story of my life;
And happy were I in my timely death,
Could all my travels warrant me they live.

Dake. Hapless Egeon, whom the fates have

mark'd

To bear the extremity of dire mishap!
Now, trust me, were it not against our laws,
Against my crown, my oath, my dignity.
Which princes, would they, may not disannul,
ly soul should sue as advocate for thee.
But, though thou art adjudged to the death,
And passed sentence may not be recali'd,
but, to our honor's great disparagement,
Yet will I favor thee in what I can:
Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day
To seek thy help by beneficial help:
Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus;
Bez thou, or borrow, to make up the sum,

And live: if not, then thou art doom'd to die:-
Sasier, take him to thy custody.

Gal. I will, my lord.

Ege. Hopeless, and helpless, doth Ægeon wend, But to procrastinate his lifeless end.

SCENE II-A public place.

[Exeunt.

Enter ANTIPHOLUS and DROMIO of Syracuse, and

a Merchant.

Mer. Therefore, give out, you are of Epidamnum,
Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate.
This very day, a Syracusan merchant
apprehended for arrival here;

And not being able to buy out his life,
According to the statute of the town,

Lies ere the weary sun set in the west:

There is your money that I had to keep.

What, will you walk with me about the town,
And then go to my inn, and dine with me?
Mer. I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,
Of whom I hope to make much benefit;
I crave your pardon. Soon, at five o'clock,
Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart,
And afterwards consort you till ɓed-time;
My present business calls me from you now.'
Ant. S. Farewell till then: 1 will go lose mysel
And wander up and down, to view the city.
Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content.
[Exit Merchant
Ant. S. He that commends me to mine own con
tent,

Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
1 to the world am like a drop of water,
That in the ocean seeks another drop;
Who, failing there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:
So 1, to find a mother, and a brother,
In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

Here comes the almanac of my true date,-
What now? How chance, thou art return'd so soon!
Dro. E. Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too
late:

The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit;
The clock has strucken twelve upon the bell,
My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
She is so hot, because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold, because you come not home;
You come not home, because you have no stomach;
You have no stomach, having broke your fast;
But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray,
Are penitent for your default to-day.

Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray;

Where have you left the money that I gave you? Dro. E. 0,-sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday

last,

To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ;-
The saddler had it, sir, I kept it not.

Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humor now:
Teil me, and dally not, where is the money?
We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust
So great a charge from thine own custody?

Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner I from my mistress come to you in post; If I return, I shall be post indeed;

For she will score your fault upon my pate. Methinks, your maw, like mine, should be your

clock,

And strike you home without a messenger.

Ant. S. Coine, Dromio, come, these jests are out

of season;

Reserve them till a merrier hour than this:

Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?

Dro. E. To me, sir? why you gave no gold to me. Ant. S. Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, And tell me, how thou hast dispos'd thy charge. Dro. E. My charge was but to fetch you from the

mart

And stay there. Dromio, till I come to thee.

Within this hour it will be dinner-time:

E that I'll view the manners of the town,
Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
And then return, and sleep within mine inn;
For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
Get thee away.

Dr. S. Many a man would take you at your word,
And go indeed, having so good a mean.
[Exit Dro. S.
Ant. S. A trusty villain, sir; that very oft,
When I am dull with care and melancholy,
Lightens my humor with his merry jests.

* Bereft, deprived.

13.

Clear, completely. i. e. Servant

If I should pay your worship those again,
Perchance, you will not bear them patiently.
Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks! what mistress, slave,
hast thou?

Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the

Phoenix:

She that doth fast, till you come home to dinner, And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. S. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my

face,

Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for heaven's sake, hold your hands;

Nay, an you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.
Exit DRO. E.

SCENE I-A public place.

Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA.

Adr. Neither my husband, nor the slave return'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master! Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.

Luc. Perhaps, some merchant hath invited him, And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine, and never fret:

A man is master of his liberty:

Time is their master; and, when they see time,
They'll go, or come: if so, be patient, sister.

Adr. Why should their liberty than ours be more?

Luc. Because their business still lies out o'door. Alr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. O, know, he is the bridle of your will. Addr. There's none but asses will be bridled so. Luc. Why headstrong liberty is lash'd with woc. There's nothing situate under heaven's eye, But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, Are their males' subjects, and at their controls: Men, more divine, the masters of all these, Lords of the wide world, and wild wat'ry seas, Indued with intellectual sense and souls, Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls, Are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords.

Adr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed. Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear some

pause;

They can be meek, that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry;
But were we burden'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain:
So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me:
But if thou live to see like right bereft,
This fool begg'd patience in thee will be left.

Lic. Well, I will marry one day, but to try;Here comes your man, now is your husband nigh. Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.

A tr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand? Dro. E. Nay, he is at two hands with me, and that my two cars can witness.

Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st

thou his mind?

Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.

Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning!

Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows; and withal so doubtfully, that I could scarce understand them.8

Adr. But say, I prythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure iny master is hornmad.

Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain?

Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, stark mad:

The pig, quoth I, is burn'd; My gold. quoth he. My mistress, sir, quoth I; Hang up thy mistress, I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress! Luc. Quoth who?

Dro. E. Quoth my master:

So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
I know, quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistress;

I thank him, I bear home upon my shoulders;
For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.

Adr. Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him
home.

For God's sake, send some other messenger.
Dro. E. Go back again, and be new beaten home!
Adr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with olla!
beating:

Between you I shall have a holy head.

Adr. Hence, prating peasant; fetch thy master home.

Dro. E. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus! You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither If I last in this service, you must case me in leather

[Era
Luc. Fye, how impatience low'reth in your tace
Adr. His company must do his minions grace,
Whilst I at home starve for a merry look.
Hath homely age the alluring beauty took
From my poor cheek! then he hath wasted it:
Are my discourses dull? barren my wit!
If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd,
Unkindness blunts it, more than marble hard.
That's not my fault, he's master of my state:
Do their gay vestments his aflections bait!
What ruins are in me, that can be found
By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground
of my defeatures: My decayed fair

A sunny look of his would soon repair;
But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale.
And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale."
Luc. Self-arming jealousy!-fye, beat it hence,
Adr. Unteeling fools can with such wrongs dis

pense,

I know his eye doth homage otherwhere,
Or else, what lets it but he would be here!
Sister, you know, he promis'd me a chain-
Would that alone, alone he would detain,
So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
I see, the jewel, best enamelled,
Will lose his beauty; and though gold 'bides stil
That others touch, yet often touching will
Wear gold: and so no man, that hath a name,
But falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy
[Excul

When I desired him to come home to dinner,
He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold:
'Tis dinner-time, quoth 1; My gold, quoth he:
Your meat doth burn, quoth 1'; My gold, quoth he:
Will you come home ? quoth I: My gold, quoth he;
Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?
Over reached.
e Scarce stand under them

9 Alteration of features. Stalking-horse.

1 Fair, for fairne allinders.