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

Shep. Pol.

O, my heart!

I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made

More homely than thy state.

For thee, fond boy,

44I

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 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, enchant-
ment,-

Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too,

That makes himself, but for our honour therein, Unworthy thee,-if ever henceforth thou

450

These rural latches* to his entrance open, *Doors.
Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
I will devise a death as cruel for thee
As thou art tender to 't.

[Exit.

Per. 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. 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.

Cam.

461

Why, how now, father!

Speak ere thou diest.
Shep.
I cannot speak, nor think,
Nor dare to know that which I know. 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. 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.

Flo.

470

[Exit.

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 fol

lowing

My leash unwillingly.

Gracious my lord,

Cam.
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.

480

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

Am heir to my affection.

Cam.

Be advised.

Flo. I am, and by my fancy:* if my reason Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

491

*Love.

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

500

The close earth wombs or the profound seas hide 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 honour'd friend,

When he shall miss me,—as, in faith, I mean not To see him any more,-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; 510 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.

Cam.

O my lord!

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

Flo.

Hark, Perdita. [Drawing her aside.

I'll hear you by and by.

Cam.
He's irremoveable,
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 curious business that

I leave out ceremony.

Sir, I think

Cam.
You have 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.

520

530

Well, my lord,

If you may please to think I love the king
And through him what is nearest 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

540

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 forefend!*--your ruin; marry her,
And, with my best endeavours in your absence,
Your discontenting father strive to qualify *Forbid.
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 the 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.

Then list to me:

550

Cam.
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 559
His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness,
As 'twere i' the father's person; kisses the hands
Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him
'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one
He chides to hell and bids the other grow
Faster than thought or time.

Flo.

Worthy Camillo, What colour for my visitation shall I Hold up before him? Cam. 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:

570

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.

Flo.

There is some sap in this.

Cam.

I am bound to you:

A cause more promising

Than a wild dedication of yourselves

580

To unpath'd waters, undream'd 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.

Per.

One of these is true:

I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
But not take in* the mind.

Cam.

*Conquer.

Yea, say you so? There shall not at your father's house these seven

years

Be born another such.

My good Camillo,

Flo.
She is as forward of her breeding as

+She is i' the rear our birth.

Cam.

590

I cannot say 'tis pity

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 furnish'd like Bohemia's son,

Nor shall appear in Sicilia.

Cam.

My lord,

600

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 talk aside.