54

WINTER'S TALE.

ACT IV.

Clo. Then fare thee well; I must go buy spices for

our sheep-shearing.
[Exit.
Aut. Prosper you, sweet sir! - Your purse is not hot
enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your
aly
sheep-shearing too: If I make not this cheat bring out
another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be un-
rolled, and my name put in the book of virtue !5

Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way
And merrily hent the stile-a :6

A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.

SCENE III.

[Exit.

The same. A Shepherd's Cottage. Enter FLORIZEL and PER

DITA.

Flo. These your unusual weeds to each part of you Do 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.

Per. 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' the land, & you have obscur'd
With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddess-like prank'd 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; sworn, I think,
To show myself a glass. 9
Flo. I bless the time,

When my good falcon made her flight across

JOHNS.

[5] Begging gypsies, in the time of our author, were in gangs and compa nies, that had something of the show of an incorporated body. From this noble society he wishes he may be unrolled, if he does not so and so. WARB. [6] To hent the stile, is to take hold of it. STEEV. [7] Thar is, your excesses, the extravagance of your praise. [8] The object of all men's notice and expectation. JOHNS. [9] That is, one would think that in putting on this habit of a shepherd, you had sworn to put me out of countenance; for, in this, as in a glass, you show me how much below yourself you must descend, before you can get upon a level with me. The sentiment is fine, and expresses all the delicacy, as well as humble modesty of the character. WARB.

I think she means to say, that the prince by the rustic habit that he wears, seems as if he had sworn to show her a glass, in which she might behold how she ought to be attired, instead of being "most goddess-like prank'd up." MALONE.

Erit pet hot

at your

ring out be un

[Exit

2nd PES

of you

aring

r'd

aid,

sts

Per. Now Jove afford you cause!

To me, the difference forges dread; your greatness
Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble
To think, your father, by some accident,
Should pass this way as you did: Oh, the fates !
How would he look, to see his work, so noble,
Vilely bound up!2 what would he say? Or how
Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
The sternness of his presence !

Flo. 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 bellow'd; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd 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 honour; nor my lusts
Burn hotter than my faith.

Per. O but, dear sir,

Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis

Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power o'the king:
One of these two must be necessities,

Which then will speak; that you must change this pur
Or I my life.

Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,

With these forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o'the feast: or I'll be thine, my fair,

Or not my father's: For I cannot be

Mine own, nor any thing to any, if

[pose

I be not thine : to this I am most constant,
Though destiny say, No. Be merry, gentle ;
Strangle such thoughts as these, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming :
Lift up your countenance; as it were the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which

Per. O lady fortune,

Stand you auspicious!

Enter Shepherd, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO, disguised,

Clown, MOPSA, Dorcas, and others.

Flo. See, your guests approach:

Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife liv'd, upon
This day, she was both pantler, butler, cook;
Both dame and servant: welcom'd all, serv'd all;
Would sing her song, and dance her turn: now here,
At upper end o'the table, now, i'the middle;
On his shoulder, and his her face o' fire

With labour; and the thing, she took to quench it,
She would to each one sip. You are retir'd,
As if you were a feasted one, and not
The hostess of the meeting: Pray you, bid
These unknown friends to us welcome; for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench you blushes; and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o'the feast. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.

Per. Welcome, sir!

[TO POL.

It is my father's will, I should take on me
The hostesship o'the day. - You're welcome, sir. [TOCAM.
-Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. - Reverend sirs,
For you there's rosemary, and rue ;3 these keep
Seeming, and savour, all the winter long:
Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing.

Pol. Shepherdess !

(A fair one are you.) well you fit our ages With flowers of winter.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o'the season Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers. Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not To get slips of them.

[3] Rue was called herb of grace. Rosemary was the emblem of remembrance; I know not why, unless because it was carried at funerals. JOHNS. Rosemary was nciently supposed to strengthen the memors, and is prescribed for that purpose in the books of ancient physic. STEEV.

Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it said,

There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares
With great creating nature.

Pol. Say, there be;

Yet nature is made better by no mean,
But nature makes that mean: so o'er that art,
Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marr
A gentler scyon 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.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers And do not call them bastards.

Per. 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 theref
Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping: these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age. You are very welcome.
Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your flo

And only live by gazing.

Per. Out, alas!

flock

You'd be so lean, that blasts of January
Would blow you through and through. -Now, my fain

friend,

I would, I had some flowers o'the spring, that might
Become your time of day; and your's, and your's,
That wear upon your virgin-branches yet
Your maiden-heads growing:-O Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon !4 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,5
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phœbus 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.

Flo. What? like a corse ?

Per. 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 flow'rs; Methinks, I play, as I have seen them do

In Whitsun' pastorals: sure, this robe of mine

Does change my disposition.

Flo. 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 ordering your affairs,
To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you

A wave o'the 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.

Per. O Doricles,

Your praises are too large: but that your youth
And the true blood, which fairly peeps through it,
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd;
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
You woo'd me the false way.

Flo. 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.
Per. I'll swear for 'em.

Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Ran on the green-sward; nothing she does, or seems, But smacks of something greater than herself;

[5] I suspect that our author mistakes Juno for Pali s, who was the goddess of blue eyes. JOHN. The eyes of Juno were as remarkable as those of Pallas.