SCENE I-Sicilia.

Gaoler.

An old Shepherd, reputed father of Perdita. Clown, son to the old Shepherd. AUTOLYCUS, a rogue. Time, as Chorus. HERMIONE, Queen to Leontes.

PERDITA, daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
PAULINA, wife to Antigonus.

EMILIA, a lady attending on the Queen.
Two Ladies attending on the Queen.
MOPSA, a shepherdess,

DORCAS, a shepherdess.

Lords, Ladies, and Attendants; Satyrs for a dance; Shepherd, Shepherdesses, Guards, &c.

An Antechamber in Leontes' Palace.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame

Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: It is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh; they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life to see him a man.

Arch. Would they else be content to die. Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.

Arch. If the king had no son they would desire to live on crutches till he had one." [Exeunt.

SCENE IL-The same. A Room of State in the Palace.

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificencein so rare-I know not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.

Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities, and royal necessities, made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attorneyed, with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent; shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves!

Arch. I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young Prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note.

LIUS, CAMILLO, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the wat'ry star have been The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne Without a burthen: time as long again Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks; And yet we should, for perpetuity, Go hence in debt: And therefore, like a cipher Yet standing in rich place, I multiply, With one we-thank-you, many thousands more That go before it. Leon. Stay your thanks awhile; And pay them when you part. Pol.

Sir, that's to-morrow. I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance, Or breed upon our absence: That may blow No sneaping winds at home, to make us say, "This is put forth too truly Besides. I have stay'd To tire your royal.. We are tougher, brother,

Leon

Than you can put us to't.

Pol. No longer stay Leon. One seven-night longer Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow. Leon. We'll part the time between's then: and in that I'll no gainsaying. Pol. Press me not, 'beseech you, s0: There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'the world.

Leon. Tongue-tied, our queen? speak you. Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace, until

You had drawn oaths from him,not to stay. You, sir,
Charge him too coldly: Tell him, you are sure
All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim'd; say this to him,
He's beat from his best ward.

Her. To tell he longs to see his son, were strong:
But let him say so then, and let him go;
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.-
Yet of your royal presence [to POLIX.] I'll adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I'll give him my commission,
To let him there a month, behind the gest
Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
What lady she her lord.-You'll stay?
Pol.

Her. Nay, but you will?
Pol.

No, madam. I may not, verily.

Her. Verily!
[oaths,
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with
You put me off with limber vows: But I,
Should yet say, "Sir, no going." Verily,
You shall not go; a lady's verily is

As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,

Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees, When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?

My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread verily,
One of them you shall be.
Pol.
Your guest then, madam:
To be your prisoner should import offending;
Which is for me less easy to commit,
Than you to punish.

Her.
Not your gaoler then,
But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you
Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys;
You were pretty lordlings then.
Pol.

We were, fair queen, Two lads, that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to-morrow as to-day, And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o'the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i'the sun,

And bleat the one at the other: What we chang'd
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd
That any did: Had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd
Heaven

Boldly, "Not guilty;" the imposition clear'd,
Hereditary ours.

Her.
By this we gather,
You have tripp'd since.
Pol.
O my most sacred lady,
Temptations have since then been born to us: for
In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young playfellow.

Leon.

Her. He'll stay, my lord. Leon. At my request, he would not. Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st To better purpose. Her.

Leon.

Never?

Never, but once.

I prithee, tell me : Cram us with praise, and make As fat as tame things: One good deed, dying tongueless,

Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages: You may ride us,
With one soft kiss, a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal;-
My last good deed was to entreat his stay;
What was my first? it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spoke to the purpose: When?
Nay, let me have't; I long.

Leon.
Why, that was when
Three crabbed, months had sour'd themselves to

The one for ever earned a royal husband;
The other, for some while a friend.

[Giving her hand to POL.
Leon.
Too hot, too hot: [Aside.
To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordis on me:-my heart dances;
But not for joy,-not joy.-This entertainment
May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
And well become the agent: it may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are; and making practis'd smiles,
As in a looking-glass;-and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows.-Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?
Ay, my good lord.

Mam. Leon.

I' fecks? Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose ?

They say it's a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd neat.-Still virginalling

[Observing POL. and HER.
Upon his palm?-How now, you wanton calf?
Art thou my calf?
Mam.

Yes, if you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots

that I have,

To be full like me :-yet, they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say anything: But were they false
As o'er-died blacks, as wind, as waters; false
As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true

Now, while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm, That little thinks she has been sluic'd in his absence,

To say this boy were like me.-Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin eye: Sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop!-Can thy dam?-may 't
be?

Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicat'st with dreams;-(How can this be?)
With what's unreal thou coactive art,

And fellow'st nothing: Then, 'tis very credent,
Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost
(And that beyond commission; and I find it);
And that to the infection of my brains,
And hardening of my brows.
Pol.

What means Sicilia?
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.

How! my lord! Leon. What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?

Her. You look

As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov'd, my lord?

Leon.
No, in good earnest.-
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, my thoughts I did recoil
Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This quash, this gentleman:--Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money?

Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.

Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole!my brother,

Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?

Pol.
If at home, sir.
He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy:
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
He makes a July's day short as December;
And, with his varying childness, cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.
Leon.
So stands this squire
Offic'd with me: We two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione,
How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's welcome;
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:
Next to thyself, and my young rover, he's
Apparent to my heart.

Her.

If you would seek us, We are yours i' the garden: Shall 's attend you there?

Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found,

Be you beneath the sky-I am angling now,
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to! [Aside. Observing POL. and HERM.
How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband! Gone already;
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd

one.

[Exeunt POL., HERM., and Attendants. Go play, boy, play;-thy mother plays, and I Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour Will be my knell.-Go play, boy, play;-There have been,

Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now; And many a man there is, even at this present,

And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't, Whiles other men have gates, and those gates open'd,

As mine, against their will: Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. Physic for't there's none;

It is a bawdy planet, that will strike

Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
From east, west, north, and south: Be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly; know it;
It will let in and out the enemy,

With bag and baggage: many a thousand of us
Have the disease, and feel't not.-How now, boy?
Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leon.

Why, that's some comfort.What! Camillo, there?

Leon.

Didst perceive it?— They're here with me already, whispering, rounding,

"Sicilia is a-so-forth :" "Tis far gone,
When I shall gust it last.-How came't, Camillo?
That he did stay?
Cam.
At the good queen's entreaty.
Leon. At the queen's, be't: good, should be
pertinent:

But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks:-Not noted, ist,
But of the finer natures? by some severals
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes
Perchance are to this business purblind? say
Cam. Business, my lord? I think most under-
stand Bohemia stays here longer.
Leon.

C'am.

Ah?

Stays here longer.

Leon. Ay, but why? Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties Of our most gracious mistress. Leon.

Satisfy

The entreaties of your mistress?satisfy ?—
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils: wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleans'd my bosom; I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd
In that which seems so.
Cam.
Be it forbid, my
lord!
Leon. To bide upon't;-Thou art not honest: or,
If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward;
Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
From course requir'd: Or else thou must be
counted

A servant grafted in my serious trust,
And therein negligent or else a fool,
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawr
And tak'st it all for jest.

Cam.

I

Have bench'd and rear'd to worship; who may'st

see

My gracious lord, may be negligent, foolish, and fearful; In every one of these no man is free, But that his negligence, his folly, fear, Among the infinite doings of the world, Sometimes puts forth: In your affairs, my lord, If ever I were wilful-negligent,

It was my folly; if industriously

I play'd 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 allow'd 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.

Leon. Have not you seen, Camillo, (But that's past doubt-you have; or your eye-glass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn), or heard (For, to a vision so apparent, rumour 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,

Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees heaven,
How I am galled,-might'st bespice a cup,
To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
Which draught to me were cordial.

Cam.

Sir, my lord,

I could do this; and that with no rash potion,
But with a ling'ring dram, that should not werk
Maliciously like poison: But I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have lov'd thee,-

Leon. 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' the 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?
I must believe you, sir;

Cam.

I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't:
Provided, that when he's remov'd, your highness
Will take again your queen, as yours at first;

My wife's a hobbyhorse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say it, and justify it.
Cam. 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.
Leon.
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.

Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;

For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon.

Say, it be; 'tis true.

Cam. No, no, my lord. Leon.

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.

Cam.

Who does infect her?

Leon. 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 honour 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

The injury of tongues, in courts and kingdoms Known and allied to yours.

Leon.
Thou dost advise me,
Even so as I mine own course have set down:
I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.
Cam. 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.

Leon.
This is all:
Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
Do't not, thou splitt'st thine own.
Cam.
I'll do't, my lord.
Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd
[Exit.

me.

Cam. 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 flourish'd 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 break-neck. Happy star, reign now! Here comes Bohemia.