And thou, fresh piece

Shorten thy life one week.

Of excellent witchcraft, who, of force, must know
The royal fool thou copest with,

Shep.

O, my heart!

Polix. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briars, and

made

More homely than thy state. - For thee, fond boy,

If I may ever know thou dost but sigh

as never

That thou no more shalt see this knack,
I mean thou shalt, — we'll bar thee from succession ;
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Far' 51 than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words:
Follow us to the Court. -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 honour 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.

Per.

[Exit.

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's alike. - [To FLO.] 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 further,

51 Far', in the old spelling, farre, that is, farther. The ancient comparative of fer was ferrer. This in the time of Chaucer was softened into ferre: "Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre."

But milk my ewes and weep.5
Cam.

Speak ere thou diest.

Shep.

52

Why, how now, father!

I cannot speak, nor think,

Nor dare to know that which I know. - [To FLO.] 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.53 — [To PERDI.] O cursèd

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've lived

To die when I desire.54

Flo.

Why look you so upon me?

I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd,

But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am;

More straining on for plucking back; not following
My leash unwillingly.

[Exit.

52 Coleridge says, "O, how more than exquisite is this whole speech! And that profound nature of noble pride and grief venting themselves in a momentary peevishness of resentment towards Florizel: 'Wilt please you, sir, be gone?'" For my part, I should say, how more than exquisite is every thing about this unfledged angel!

53 In the old burial service, it was the custom for the priest to throw earth on the body in the form of a cross, and then sprinkle it with holy

water.

54 Some of the critics have been rather hard on the old Shepherd, for what they call his characteristic selfishness in thinking so much of his own life, though he be fourscore and three, and showing so little concern for Perdita and Florizel. But it is the thought, not so much of dying, as of dying like a felon, that troubles and engrosses his mind. His unselfish honesty in the treatment of his foundling is quite apparent throughout. The Poet was wiser than to tempt nature overmuch, by making the innate qualities of his heroine triumphant over the influences of a selfish father.

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.

Flo.

I think Camillo ?

Cam.

I not purpose it.

Even he, my lord.

Per. How often have I told you 'twould be thus ! How often said my dignity would last

But till 'twere known!

Flo.

It cannot fail but by

The violation of my faith; and then

Let Nature crush the sides o' the earth together, And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks : — From my succession wipe me, father! I

55 if

my reason

Flo. I am, and by my fancy :

Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,

Do bid it welcome.

Cam.

This is desperate, sir. Flo. So call it: but it does fulfil my vow; I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may Be thereat glean'd; for all the Sun sees, or The close earth wombs, or the profound sea hides In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you,

55 Here, as often, fancy means love.

As you have ever been
When he shall miss me,

To see him any more,

my

father's honour'd friend,

as, in faith, I mean not

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 whom here I cannot hold on shore;
And, most oppórtune 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.

I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for your need!

Flo.

Hark, Perdita. [Taking her aside.

[To CAMILLO.] I'll hear you by-and-by.

Cam.

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 honour;
Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia,

And that unhappy King my master, whom

I so much thirst to see.

Flo.

Now, good Camillo,

I am so fraught with serious business, that

I leave out ceremony.

You've heard of my poor services, i' the love
That I have borne your father?

Flo.

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.

Cam.

Well, my lord,

If you may please to think I love the King,
And, through him, what is near'st to him, which is
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction,
(If your more ponderous and settled project
May suffer alteration,) on mine honour

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 ;-

- with my best endeavours in

marry her;
absence

your

And
Your discontenting 56 father strive to qualify,
And bring him up to liking.

Flo.

How, Camillo,

May this, almost a miracle, be done?

That I may call thee something more than man,

And, after that, trust to thee.

Cam.

A place whereto you'll go?

Flo.

Have you thought on

Not any yet:

But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty

To what we wildly do,57 so we profess

Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies

Of every wind that blows.

Cam.

Then list to me:

This follows: If you will not change your purpose.
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia;

56 Discontenting for discontented; an instance of the indiscriminate use of active and passive forms. See page 25, note 57.

57 This unthought-on accident is the unexpected discovery made by Polix- Guilty to, though it sound harsh to our ears, was the phraseology of Shakespeare. So in The Comedy of Errors, iii. 2:

enes.

But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
I'll stop my ears against the mermaid's song.