It is hard to imagine a world without Shakespeare. Since their composition four hundred years ago, Shakespeare’s plays and poems have traveled the globe, inviting those who see and read his works to make them their own.
Readers of the New Folger Editions are part of this ongoing process of “taking up Shakespeare,” finding our own thoughts and feelings in language that strikes us as old or unusual and, for that very reason, new. We still struggle to keep up with a writer who could think a mile a minute, whose words paint pictures that shift like clouds. These expertly edited texts are presented to the public as a resource for study, artistic adaptation, and enjoyment. By making the classic texts of the New Folger Editions available in electronic form as The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), we place a trusted resource in the hands of anyone who wants them.
The New Folger Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, which are the basis for the texts realized here in digital form, are special because of their origin. The Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, is the single greatest documentary source of Shakespeare’s works. An unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and artwork connected to Shakespeare, the Folger’s holdings have been consulted extensively in the preparation of these texts. The Editions also reflect the expertise gained through the regular performance of Shakespeare’s works in the Folger’s Elizabethan Theatre.
I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Michael Witmore
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
Until now, with the release of The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), readers in search of a free online text of Shakespeare’s plays had to be content primarily with using the Moby™ Text, which reproduces a late-nineteenth century version of the plays. What is the difference? Many ordinary readers assume that there is a single text for the plays: what Shakespeare wrote. But Shakespeare’s plays were not published the way modern novels or plays are published today: as a single, authoritative text. In some cases, the plays have come down to us in multiple published versions, represented by various Quartos (Qq) and by the great collection put together by his colleagues in 1623, called the First Folio (F). There are, for example, three very different versions of
Hamlet
, two of
King Lear
,
Henry V
,
Romeo and Juliet
, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
Other editorial decisions involve choices about whether an unfamiliar word could be understood in light of other writings of the period or whether it should be changed; decisions about words that made it into Shakespeare’s text by accident through four hundred years of printings and misprinting; and even decisions based on cultural preference and taste. When the Moby™ Text was created, for example, it was deemed “improper” and “indecent” for Miranda to chastise Caliban for having attempted to rape her. (See
The Tempest
, 1.2: “Abhorred slave,/Which any print of goodness wilt not take,/Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee…”). All Shakespeare editors at the time took the speech away from her and gave it to her father, Prospero.
The editors of the Moby™ Shakespeare produced their text long before scholars fully understood the proper grounds on which to make the thousands of decisions that Shakespeare editors face. The Folger Library Shakespeare Editions, on which the Folger Shakespeare texts depend, make this editorial process as nearly transparent as is possible, in contrast to older texts, like the Moby™, which hide editorial interventions. The reader of the Folger Shakespeare knows where the text has been altered because editorial interventions are signaled by square brackets (for example, from
Othello
: “
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If she in chains of magic were not bound,
square bracket
”), half-square brackets (for example, from
Henry V
: “With
half-square bracket
blood
half-square bracket
and sword and fire to win your right,”), or angle brackets (for example, from
Hamlet
: “O farewell, honest
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soldier.
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Who hath relieved/you?”). At any point in the text, you can hover your cursor over a bracket for more information.
Because the Folger Shakespeare texts are edited in accord with twenty-first century knowledge about Shakespeare’s texts, the Folger here provides them to readers, scholars, teachers, actors, directors, and students, free of charge, confident of their quality as texts of the plays and pleased to be able to make this contribution to the study and enjoyment of Shakespeare.
The “tale” of
The Winter’s Tale
unfolds in scenes set sixteen years apart. In the first part of the play, Leontes, king of Sicilia, plays host to his friend Polixenes, king of Bohemia. Suddenly, Leontes becomes unreasonably jealous of Polixenes and Leontes’s pregnant wife, Hermione. Leontes calls for Polixenes to be killed, but he escapes.
Hermione, under arrest, gives birth to a daughter; Leontes orders the baby to be taken overseas and abandoned. The death of the couple’s young son, Mamillius, brings Leontes to his senses, too late. Word arrives that Hermione, too, has died. In Bohemia, a shepherd finds and adopts the baby girl, Perdita.
Sixteen years later, the story resumes. Polixenes’s son, Florizell, loves Perdita. When Polixenes forbids the unequal match, the couple flees to Sicilia, where the tale reaches its conclusion. Perdita’s identity as a princess is revealed, allowing her and Florizell to marry; Leontes and Polixenes reconcile; and Hermione returns in the form of a statue, steps down from its pedestal, and reunites with her family.
ACT
1
Scene
1
Enter
Camillo
and
Archidamus
.
If
you
shall
chance
,
Camillo
,
to
visit
Bohemia
on
the
like
occasion
whereon
my
services
are
now
on
foot
,
you
shall
see
,
as
I
have
said
,
great
difference
betwixt
our
Bohemia
and
your
Sicilia
.
I
think
this
coming
summer
the
King
of
Sicilia
means
to
pay
Bohemia
the
visitation
which
he
justly
owes
him
.
Wherein
our
entertainment
shall
shame
us
;
we
will
be
justified
in
our
loves
.
For
indeed
—
Beseech
you
—
Verily
,
I
speak
it
in
the
freedom
of
my
knowledge
.
We
cannot
with
such
magnificence
—
in
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
.
You
pay
a
great
deal
too
dear
for
what’s
given
freely
.
Believe
me
,
I
speak
as
my
understanding
instructs
me
and
as
mine
honesty
puts
it
to
utterance
.
Sicilia
cannot
show
himself
over-kind
to
Bohemia
.
They
were
trained
together
in
their
childhoods
,
and
there
rooted
betwixt
them
then
such
an
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
,
hath
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
.
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
.
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
.
Would
they
else
be
content
to
die
?
Yes
,
if
there
were
no
other
excuse
why
they
should
desire
to
live
.
If
the
King
had
no
son
,
they
would
desire
to
live
on
crutches
till
he
had
one
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Leontes
,
Hermione
,
Mamillius
,
Polixenes
,
Camillo
,
and
Attendants
.
Nine
changes
of
the
wat’ry
star
hath
been
The
shepherd’s
note
since
we
have
left
our
throne
Without
a
burden
.
Time
as
long
again
ACT 1. SC. 2
Would
be
filled
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
.
Stay
your
thanks
awhile
,
And
pay
them
when
you
part
.
Sir
,
that’s
tomorrow
.
I
am
questioned
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
stayed
To
tire
your
Royalty
.
We
are
tougher
,
brother
,
Than
you
can
put
us
to
’t
.
No
longer
stay
.
One
sev’nnight
longer
.
Very
sooth
,
tomorrow
.
We’ll
part
the
time
between
’s
,
then
,
and
in
that
I’ll
no
gainsaying
.
Press
me
not
,
beseech
you
,
so
.
There
is
no
tongue
that
moves
,
none
,
none
i’
th’
world
,
So
soon
as
yours
could
win
me
.
So
it
should
now
,
Were
there
necessity
in
your
request
,
although
’Twere
needful
I
denied
it
.
My
affairs
Do
even
drag
me
homeward
,
which
to
hinder
Were
in
your
love
a
whip
to
me
,
my
stay
To
you
a
charge
and
trouble
.
To
save
both
,
Farewell
,
our
brother
.
Tongue-tied
,
our
queen
?
Speak
you
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
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
bygone
day
proclaimed
.
Say
this
to
him
,
He’s
beat
from
his
best
ward
.
Well
said
,
Hermione
.
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
.
To
Polixenes
.
Yet
of
your
royal
presence
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
Prefixed
for
’s
parting
.
—
Yet
,
good
deed
,
Leontes
,
I
love
thee
not
a
jar
o’
th’
clock
behind
What
lady
she
her
lord
.
—
You’ll
stay
?
No
,
madam
.
Nay
,
but
you
will
?
I
may
not
,
verily
.
Verily
?
You
put
me
off
with
limber
vows
.
But
I
,
Though
you
would
seek
t’
unsphere
the
stars
with
oaths
,
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
?
ACT 1. SC. 2
My
prisoner
or
my
guest
?
By
your
dread
verily
,
One
of
them
you
shall
be
.
Your
guest
,
then
,
madam
.
To
be
your
prisoner
should
import
offending
,
Which
is
for
me
less
easy
to
commit
Than
you
to
punish
.
Not
your
jailer
,
then
,
But
your
kind
hostess
.
Come
,
I’ll
question
you
Of
my
lord’s
tricks
and
yours
when
you
were
boys
.
You
were
pretty
lordings
then
?
We
were
,
fair
queen
,
Two
lads
that
thought
there
was
no
more
behind
But
such
a
day
tomorrow
as
today
,
And
to
be
boy
eternal
.
Was
not
my
lord
The
verier
wag
o’
th’
two
?
We
were
as
twinned
lambs
that
did
frisk
i’
th’
sun
And
bleat
the
one
at
th’
other
.
What
we
changed
Was
innocence
for
innocence
.
We
knew
not
The
doctrine
of
ill-doing
,
nor
dreamed
That
any
did
.
Had
we
pursued
that
life
,
And
our
weak
spirits
ne’er
been
higher
reared
With
stronger
blood
,
we
should
have
answered
heaven
Boldly
Not
guilty
,
the
imposition
cleared
Hereditary
ours
.
By
this
we
gather
You
have
tripped
since
.
O
my
most
sacred
lady
,
Temptations
have
since
then
been
born
to
’s
,
for
In
those
unfledged
days
was
my
wife
a
girl
;
Your
precious
self
had
then
not
crossed
the
eyes
Of
my
young
playfellow
.
Grace
to
boot
!
Of
this
make
no
conclusion
,
lest
you
say
ACT 1. SC. 2
Your
queen
and
I
are
devils
.
Yet
go
on
.
Th’
offenses
we
have
made
you
do
we’ll
answer
,
If
you
first
sinned
with
us
,
and
that
with
us
You
did
continue
fault
,
and
that
you
slipped
not
With
any
but
with
us
.
Is
he
won
yet
?
He’ll
stay
,
my
lord
.
At
my
request
he
would
not
.
Hermione
,
my
dearest
,
thou
never
spok’st
To
better
purpose
.
Never
?
Never
but
once
.
What
,
have
I
twice
said
well
?
When
was
’t
before
?
I
prithee
tell
me
.
Cram
’s
with
praise
,
and
make
’s
As
fat
as
tame
things
.
One
good
deed
dying
tongueless
Slaughters
a
thousand
waiting
upon
that
.
Our
praises
are
our
wages
.
You
may
ride
’s
With
one
soft
kiss
a
thousand
furlongs
ere
With
spur
we
heat
an
acre
.
But
to
th’
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
th’
purpose
?
When
?
Nay
,
let
me
have
’t
;
I
long
.
Why
,
that
was
when
Three
crabbèd
months
had
soured
themselves
to
death
Ere
I
could
make
thee
open
thy
white
hand
And
clap
thyself
my
love
;
then
didst
thou
utter
I
am
yours
forever
.
’Tis
grace
indeed
.
Why
,
lo
you
now
,
I
have
spoke
to
th’
purpose
twice
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
The
one
forever
earned
a
royal
husband
,
Th’
other
for
some
while
a
friend
.
She
gives
Polixenes
her
hand
.
,
aside
Too
hot
,
too
hot
!
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
.
’T
may
,
I
grant
.
But
to
be
paddling
palms
and
pinching
fingers
,
As
now
they
are
,
and
making
practiced
smiles
As
in
a
looking
glass
,
and
then
to
sigh
,
as
’twere
The
mort
o’
th’
deer
—
O
,
that
is
entertainment
My
bosom
likes
not
,
nor
my
brows
.
—
Mamillius
,
Art
thou
my
boy
?
Ay
,
my
good
lord
.
I’
fecks
!
Why
,
that’s
my
bawcock
.
What
,
hast
smutched
thy
nose
?
They
say
it
is
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
called
neat
.
—
Still
virginalling
Upon
his
palm
?
—
How
now
,
you
wanton
calf
?
Art
thou
my
calf
?
Yes
,
if
you
will
,
my
lord
.
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’erdyed
blacks
,
as
wind
,
as
waters
,
false
As
dice
are
to
be
wished
by
one
that
fixes
ACT 1. SC. 2
No
bourn
’twixt
his
and
mine
,
yet
were
it
true
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
center
.
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
may’st
co-join
with
something
;
and
thou
dost
,
And
that
beyond
commission
,
and
I
find
it
,
And
that
to
the
infection
of
my
brains
And
hard’ning
of
my
brows
.
What
means
Sicilia
?
He
something
seems
unsettled
.
How
,
my
lord
?
What
cheer
?
How
is
’t
with
you
,
best
brother
?
You
look
As
if
you
held
a
brow
of
much
distraction
.
Are
you
moved
,
my
lord
?
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
,
methoughts
I
did
recoil
Twenty-three
years
,
and
saw
myself
unbreeched
,
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
squash
,
this
gentleman
.
—
Mine
honest
friend
,
Will
you
take
eggs
for
money
?
No
,
my
lord
,
I’ll
fight
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
You
will
?
Why
,
happy
man
be
’s
dole
!
—
My
brother
,
Are
you
so
fond
of
your
young
prince
as
we
Do
seem
to
be
of
ours
?
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
.
So
stands
this
squire
Officed
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
.
If
you
would
seek
us
,
We
are
yours
i’
th’
garden
.
Shall
’s
attend
you
there
?
To
your
own
bents
dispose
you
.
You’ll
be
found
,
Be
you
beneath
the
sky
.
Aside
.
I
am
angling
now
,
Though
you
perceive
me
not
how
I
give
line
.
Go
to
,
go
to
!
How
she
holds
up
the
neb
,
the
bill
to
him
,
And
arms
her
with
the
boldness
of
a
wife
To
her
allowing
husband
!
Exit
Hermione
,
Polixenes
,
and
Attendants
.
Gone
already
.
Inch
thick
,
knee-deep
,
o’er
head
and
ears
a
forked
one
!
—
Go
play
,
boy
,
play
.
Thy
mother
plays
,
and
I
Play
too
,
but
so
disgraced
a
part
,
whose
issue
ACT 1. SC. 2
Will
hiss
me
to
my
grave
.
Contempt
and
clamor
Will
be
my
knell
.
Go
play
,
boy
,
play
.
—
There
have
been
,
Or
I
am
much
deceived
,
cuckolds
ere
now
;
And
many
a
man
there
is
,
even
at
this
present
,
Now
while
I
speak
this
,
holds
his
wife
by
th’
arm
,
That
little
thinks
she
has
been
sluiced
in
’s
absence
,
And
his
pond
fished
by
his
next
neighbor
,
by
Sir
Smile
,
his
neighbor
.
Nay
,
there’s
comfort
in
’t
Whiles
other
men
have
gates
and
those
gates
opened
,
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
’t
,
It
will
let
in
and
out
the
enemy
With
bag
and
baggage
.
Many
thousand
on
’s
Have
the
disease
and
feel
’t
not
.
—
How
now
,
boy
?
I
am
like
you
,
they
say
.
Why
,
that’s
some
comfort
.
—
What
,
Camillo
there
?
,
coming
forward
Ay
,
my
good
lord
.
Go
play
,
Mamillius
.
Thou
’rt
an
honest
man
.
Mamillius
exits
.
Camillo
,
this
great
sir
will
yet
stay
longer
.
You
had
much
ado
to
make
his
anchor
hold
.
When
you
cast
out
,
it
still
came
home
.
Didst
note
it
?
ACT 1. SC. 2
He
would
not
stay
at
your
petitions
,
made
His
business
more
material
.
Didst
perceive
it
?
Aside
.
They’re
here
with
me
already
,
whisp’ring
,
rounding
:
Sicilia
is
a
so-forth
.
’Tis
far
gone
When
I
shall
gust
it
last
.
—
How
came
’t
,
Camillo
,
That
he
did
stay
?
At
the
good
queen’s
entreaty
.
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
,
is
’t
,
But
of
the
finer
natures
,
by
some
severals
Of
headpiece
extraordinary
?
Lower
messes
Perchance
are
to
this
business
purblind
?
Say
.
Business
,
my
lord
?
I
think
most
understand
Bohemia
stays
here
longer
.
Ha
?
Stays
here
longer
.
Ay
,
but
why
?
To
satisfy
your
Highness
and
the
entreaties
Of
our
most
gracious
mistress
.
Satisfy
?
Th’
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-counsels
,
wherein
,
priestlike
,
thou
Hast
cleansed
my
bosom
;
I
from
thee
departed
Thy
penitent
reformed
.
But
we
have
been
ACT 1. SC. 2
Deceived
in
thy
integrity
,
deceived
In
that
which
seems
so
.
Be
it
forbid
,
my
lord
!
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
required
;
or
else
thou
must
be
counted
A
servant
grafted
in
my
serious
trust
And
therein
negligent
;
or
else
a
fool
That
seest
a
game
played
home
,
the
rich
stake
drawn
,
And
tak’st
it
all
for
jest
.
My
gracious
lord
,
I
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
,
Sometime
puts
forth
.
In
your
affairs
,
my
lord
,
If
ever
I
were
willful-negligent
,
It
was
my
folly
;
if
industriously
I
played
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
allowed
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
.
Ha’
not
you
seen
,
Camillo
—
But
that’s
past
doubt
;
you
have
,
or
your
eyeglass
ACT 1. SC. 2
Is
thicker
than
a
cuckold’s
horn
—
or
heard
—
For
to
a
vision
so
apparent
,
rumor
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
To
have
nor
eyes
nor
ears
nor
thought
—
then
say
My
wife’s
a
hobby-horse
,
deserves
a
name
As
rank
as
any
flax-wench
that
puts
to
Before
her
troth-plight
.
Say
’t
,
and
justify
’t
.
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
.
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
.
Good
my
lord
,
be
cured
Of
this
diseased
opinion
,
and
betimes
,
For
’tis
most
dangerous
.
Say
it
be
,
’tis
true
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
No
,
no
,
my
lord
.
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
.
Who
does
infect
her
?
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
honor
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
Have
benched
and
reared
to
worship
,
who
mayst
see
Plainly
as
heaven
sees
Earth
earth
and
Earth
earth
sees
heaven
How
I
am
galled
—
mightst
bespice
a
cup
To
give
mine
enemy
a
lasting
wink
,
Which
draft
to
me
were
cordial
.
Sir
,
my
lord
,
I
could
do
this
,
and
that
with
no
rash
potion
,
But
with
a
ling’ring
dram
that
should
not
work
Maliciously
like
poison
.
But
I
cannot
Believe
this
crack
to
be
in
my
dread
mistress
,
So
sovereignly
being
honorable
.
I
have
loved
thee
—
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
ACT 1. SC. 2
Is
goads
,
thorns
,
nettles
,
tails
of
wasps
—
Give
scandal
to
the
blood
o’
th’
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
.
I
do
,
and
will
fetch
off
Bohemia
for
’t
—
Provided
that
,
when
he’s
removed
,
your
Highness
Will
take
again
your
queen
as
yours
at
first
,
Even
for
your
son’s
sake
,
and
thereby
for
sealing
The
injury
of
tongues
in
courts
and
kingdoms
Known
and
allied
to
yours
.
Thou
dost
advise
me
Even
so
as
I
mine
own
course
have
set
down
.
I’ll
give
no
blemish
to
her
honor
,
none
.
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
.
This
is
all
.
Do
’t
and
thou
hast
the
one
half
of
my
heart
;
Do
’t
not
,
thou
splitt’st
thine
own
.
I’ll
do
’t
,
my
lord
.
I
will
seem
friendly
,
as
thou
hast
advised
me
.
He
exits
.
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
,
ACT 1. SC. 2
Promotion
follows
.
If
I
could
find
example
Of
thousands
that
had
struck
anointed
kings
And
flourished
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
breakneck
.
Happy
star
reign
now
!
Here
comes
Bohemia
.
Enter
Polixenes
.
,
aside
This
is
strange
.
Methinks
My
favor
here
begins
to
warp
.
Not
speak
?
—
Good
day
,
Camillo
.
Hail
,
most
royal
sir
.
What
is
the
news
i’
th’
court
?
None
rare
,
my
lord
.
The
King
hath
on
him
such
a
countenance
As
he
had
lost
some
province
and
a
region
Loved
as
he
loves
himself
.
Even
now
I
met
him
With
customary
compliment
,
when
he
,
Wafting
his
eyes
to
th’
contrary
and
falling
A
lip
of
much
contempt
,
speeds
from
me
,
and
So
leaves
me
to
consider
what
is
breeding
That
changes
thus
his
manners
.
I
dare
not
know
,
my
lord
.
How
,
dare
not
?
Do
not
?
Do
you
know
and
dare
not
?
Be
intelligent
to
me
—
’tis
thereabouts
;
For
to
yourself
what
you
do
know
,
you
must
,
And
cannot
say
you
dare
not
.
Good
Camillo
,
Your
changed
complexions
are
to
me
a
mirror
Which
shows
me
mine
changed
too
,
for
I
must
be
ACT 1. SC. 2
A
party
in
this
alteration
,
finding
Myself
thus
altered
with
’t
.
There
is
a
sickness
Which
puts
some
of
us
in
distemper
,
but
I
cannot
name
the
disease
,
and
it
is
caught
Of
you
that
yet
are
well
.
How
caught
of
me
?
Make
me
not
sighted
like
the
basilisk
.
I
have
looked
on
thousands
who
have
sped
the
better
By
my
regard
,
but
killed
none
so
.
Camillo
,
As
you
are
certainly
a
gentleman
,
thereto
Clerklike
experienced
,
which
no
less
adorns
Our
gentry
than
our
parents’
noble
names
,
In
whose
success
we
are
gentle
,
I
beseech
you
,
If
you
know
aught
which
does
behoove
my
knowledge
Thereof
to
be
informed
,
imprison
’t
not
In
ignorant
concealment
.
I
may
not
answer
.
A
sickness
caught
of
me
,
and
yet
I
well
?
I
must
be
answered
.
Dost
thou
hear
,
Camillo
?
I
conjure
thee
by
all
the
parts
of
man
Which
honor
does
acknowledge
,
whereof
the
least
Is
not
this
suit
of
mine
,
that
thou
declare
What
incidency
thou
dost
guess
of
harm
Is
creeping
toward
me
;
how
far
off
,
how
near
;
Which
way
to
be
prevented
,
if
to
be
;
If
not
,
how
best
to
bear
it
.
Sir
,
I
will
tell
you
,
Since
I
am
charged
in
honor
and
by
him
That
I
think
honorable
.
Therefore
mark
my
counsel
,
Which
must
be
e’en
as
swiftly
followed
as
I
mean
to
utter
it
,
or
both
yourself
and
me
Cry
lost
,
and
so
goodnight
.
ACT 1. SC. 2
On
,
good
Camillo
.
I
am
appointed
him
to
murder
you
.
By
whom
,
Camillo
?
By
the
King
.
For
what
?
He
thinks
,
nay
with
all
confidence
he
swears
,
As
he
had
seen
’t
or
been
an
instrument
To
vice
you
to
’t
,
that
you
have
touched
his
queen
Forbiddenly
.
O
,
then
my
best
blood
turn
To
an
infected
jelly
,
and
my
name
Be
yoked
with
his
that
did
betray
the
Best
!
Turn
then
my
freshest
reputation
to
A
savor
that
may
strike
the
dullest
nostril
Where
I
arrive
,
and
my
approach
be
shunned
,
Nay
,
hated
too
,
worse
than
the
great’st
infection
That
e’er
was
heard
or
read
.
Swear
his
thought
over
By
each
particular
star
in
heaven
and
By
all
their
influences
,
you
may
as
well
Forbid
the
sea
for
to
obey
the
moon
As
or
by
oath
remove
or
counsel
shake
The
fabric
of
his
folly
,
whose
foundation
Is
piled
upon
his
faith
and
will
continue
The
standing
of
his
body
.
How
should
this
grow
?
I
know
not
.
But
I
am
sure
’tis
safer
to
Avoid
what’s
grown
than
question
how
’tis
born
.
If
therefore
you
dare
trust
my
honesty
,
That
lies
enclosèd
in
this
trunk
which
you
Shall
bear
along
impawned
,
away
tonight
!
ACT 1. SC. 2
Your
followers
I
will
whisper
to
the
business
,
And
will
by
twos
and
threes
at
several
posterns
Clear
them
o’
th’
city
.
For
myself
,
I’ll
put
My
fortunes
to
your
service
,
which
are
here
By
this
discovery
lost
.
Be
not
uncertain
,
For
,
by
the
honor
of
my
parents
,
I
Have
uttered
truth
—
which
if
you
seek
to
prove
,
I
dare
not
stand
by
;
nor
shall
you
be
safer
Than
one
condemned
by
the
King’s
own
mouth
,
thereon
His
execution
sworn
.
I
do
believe
thee
.
I
saw
his
heart
in
’s
face
.
Give
me
thy
hand
.
Be
pilot
to
me
and
thy
places
shall
Still
neighbor
mine
.
My
ships
are
ready
and
My
people
did
expect
my
hence
departure
Two
days
ago
.
This
jealousy
Is
for
a
precious
creature
.
As
she’s
rare
,
Must
it
be
great
;
and
as
his
person’s
mighty
,
Must
it
be
violent
;
and
as
he
does
conceive
He
is
dishonored
by
a
man
which
ever
Professed
to
him
,
why
,
his
revenges
must
In
that
be
made
more
bitter
.
Fear
o’ershades
me
.
Good
expedition
be
my
friend
,
and
comfort
The
gracious
queen
,
part
of
his
theme
,
but
nothing
Of
his
ill-ta’en
suspicion
.
Come
,
Camillo
,
I
will
respect
thee
as
a
father
if
Thou
bear’st
my
life
off
hence
.
Let
us
avoid
.
It
is
in
mine
authority
to
command
The
keys
of
all
the
posterns
.
Please
your
Highness
To
take
the
urgent
hour
.
Come
,
sir
,
away
.
They
exit
.
ACT
2
Scene
1
Enter
Hermione
,
Mamillius
,
and
Ladies
.
Take
the
boy
to
you
.
He
so
troubles
me
’Tis
past
enduring
.
Come
,
my
gracious
lord
,
Shall
I
be
your
playfellow
?
No
,
I’ll
none
of
you
.
Why
,
my
sweet
lord
?
You’ll
kiss
me
hard
and
speak
to
me
as
if
I
were
a
baby
still
.
—
I
love
you
better
.
And
why
so
,
my
lord
?
Not
for
because
Your
brows
are
blacker
—
yet
black
brows
,
they
say
,
Become
some
women
best
,
so
that
there
be
not
Too
much
hair
there
,
but
in
a
semicircle
,
Or
a
half-moon
made
with
a
pen
.
Who
taught
this
?
I
learned
it
out
of
women’s
faces
.
—
Pray
now
,
What
color
are
your
eyebrows
?
Blue
,
my
lord
.
ACT 2. SC. 1
Nay
,
that’s
a
mock
.
I
have
seen
a
lady’s
nose
That
has
been
blue
,
but
not
her
eyebrows
.
Hark
ye
,
The
Queen
your
mother
rounds
apace
.
We
shall
Present
our
services
to
a
fine
new
prince
One
of
these
days
,
and
then
you’d
wanton
with
us
If
we
would
have
you
.
She
is
spread
of
late
Into
a
goodly
bulk
.
Good
time
encounter
her
!
What
wisdom
stirs
amongst
you
?
—
Come
,
sir
,
now
I
am
for
you
again
.
Pray
you
sit
by
us
,
And
tell
’s
a
tale
.
Merry
or
sad
shall
’t
be
?
As
merry
as
you
will
.
A
sad
tale’s
best
for
winter
.
I
have
one
Of
sprites
and
goblins
.
Let’s
have
that
,
good
sir
.
Come
on
,
sit
down
.
Come
on
,
and
do
your
best
To
fright
me
with
your
sprites
.
You’re
powerful
at
it
.
There
was
a
man
—
Nay
,
come
sit
down
,
then
on
.
Dwelt
by
a
churchyard
.
I
will
tell
it
softly
,
Yond
crickets
shall
not
hear
it
.
Come
on
then
,
and
give
’t
me
in
mine
ear
.
They
talk
privately
.
Enter
Leontes
,
Antigonus
,
and
Lords
.
Was
he
met
there
?
His
train
?
Camillo
with
him
?
ACT 2. SC. 1
Behind
the
tuft
of
pines
I
met
them
.
Never
Saw
I
men
scour
so
on
their
way
.
I
eyed
them
Even
to
their
ships
.
How
blest
am
I
In
my
just
censure
,
in
my
true
opinion
!
Alack
,
for
lesser
knowledge
!
How
accursed
In
being
so
blest
!
There
may
be
in
the
cup
A
spider
steeped
,
and
one
may
drink
,
depart
,
And
yet
partake
no
venom
,
for
his
knowledge
Is
not
infected
;
but
if
one
present
Th’
abhorred
ingredient
to
his
eye
,
make
known
How
he
hath
drunk
,
he
cracks
his
gorge
,
his
sides
,
With
violent
hefts
.
I
have
drunk
,
and
seen
the
spider
.
Camillo
was
his
help
in
this
,
his
pander
.
There
is
a
plot
against
my
life
,
my
crown
.
All’s
true
that
is
mistrusted
.
That
false
villain
Whom
I
employed
was
pre-employed
by
him
.
He
has
discovered
my
design
,
and
I
Remain
a
pinched
thing
,
yea
,
a
very
trick
For
them
to
play
at
will
.
How
came
the
posterns
So
easily
open
?
By
his
great
authority
,
Which
often
hath
no
less
prevailed
than
so
On
your
command
.
I
know
’t
too
well
.
To
Hermione
.
Give
me
the
boy
.
I
am
glad
you
did
not
nurse
him
.
Though
he
does
bear
some
signs
of
me
,
yet
you
Have
too
much
blood
in
him
.
What
is
this
?
Sport
?
,
to
the
Ladies
Bear
the
boy
hence
.
He
shall
not
come
about
her
.
Away
with
him
,
and
let
her
sport
herself
ACT 2. SC. 1
With
that
she’s
big
with
,
(
to
Hermione
)
for
’tis
Polixenes
Has
made
thee
swell
thus
.
A
Lady
exits
with
Mamillius
.
But
I’d
say
he
had
not
,
And
I’ll
be
sworn
you
would
believe
my
saying
,
Howe’er
you
lean
to
th’
nayward
.
You
,
my
lords
,
Look
on
her
,
mark
her
well
.
Be
but
about
To
say
She
is
a
goodly
lady
,
and
The
justice
of
your
hearts
will
thereto
add
’Tis
pity
she’s
not
honest
,
honorable
.
Praise
her
but
for
this
her
without-door
form
,
Which
on
my
faith
deserves
high
speech
,
and
straight
The
shrug
,
the
hum
,
or
ha
,
these
petty
brands
That
calumny
doth
use
—
O
,
I
am
out
,
That
mercy
does
,
for
calumny
will
sear
Virtue
itself
—
these
shrugs
,
these
hum
s
and
ha
s
,
When
you
have
said
she’s
goodly
,
come
between
Ere
you
can
say
she’s
honest
.
But
be
’t
known
,
From
him
that
has
most
cause
to
grieve
it
should
be
,
She’s
an
adult’ress
.
Should
a
villain
say
so
,
The
most
replenished
villain
in
the
world
,
He
were
as
much
more
villain
.
You
,
my
lord
,
Do
but
mistake
.
You
have
mistook
,
my
lady
,
Polixenes
for
Leontes
.
O
thou
thing
,
Which
I’ll
not
call
a
creature
of
thy
place
Lest
barbarism
,
making
me
the
precedent
,
Should
a
like
language
use
to
all
degrees
,
And
mannerly
distinguishment
leave
out
Betwixt
the
prince
and
beggar
.
—
I
have
said
She’s
an
adult’ress
;
I
have
said
with
whom
.
More
,
she’s
a
traitor
,
and
Camillo
is
A
federary
with
her
,
and
one
that
knows
ACT 2. SC. 1
What
she
should
shame
to
know
herself
But
with
her
most
vile
principal
:
that
she’s
A
bed-swerver
,
even
as
bad
as
those
That
vulgars
give
bold’st
titles
;
ay
,
and
privy
To
this
their
late
escape
.
No
,
by
my
life
,
Privy
to
none
of
this
.
How
will
this
grieve
you
,
When
you
shall
come
to
clearer
knowledge
,
that
You
thus
have
published
me
!
Gentle
my
lord
,
You
scarce
can
right
me
throughly
then
to
say
You
did
mistake
.
No
.
If
I
mistake
In
those
foundations
which
I
build
upon
,
The
center
is
not
big
enough
to
bear
A
schoolboy’s
top
.
—
Away
with
her
to
prison
.
He
who
shall
speak
for
her
is
afar
off
guilty
But
that
he
speaks
.
There’s
some
ill
planet
reigns
.
I
must
be
patient
till
the
heavens
look
With
an
aspect
more
favorable
.
Good
my
lords
,
I
am
not
prone
to
weeping
,
as
our
sex
Commonly
are
,
the
want
of
which
vain
dew
Perchance
shall
dry
your
pities
.
But
I
have
That
honorable
grief
lodged
here
which
burns
Worse
than
tears
drown
.
Beseech
you
all
,
my
lords
,
With
thoughts
so
qualified
as
your
charities
Shall
best
instruct
you
,
measure
me
;
and
so
The
King’s
will
be
performed
.
Shall
I
be
heard
?
Who
is
’t
that
goes
with
me
?
Beseech
your
Highness
My
women
may
be
with
me
,
for
you
see
My
plight
requires
it
.
—
Do
not
weep
,
good
fools
;
There
is
no
cause
.
When
you
shall
know
your
mistress
Has
deserved
prison
,
then
abound
in
tears
As
I
come
out
.
This
action
I
now
go
on
ACT 2. SC. 1
Is
for
my
better
grace
.
—
Adieu
,
my
lord
.
I
never
wished
to
see
you
sorry
;
now
I
trust
I
shall
.
—
My
women
,
come
;
you
have
leave
.
Go
,
do
our
bidding
.
Hence
!
Hermione
exits
,
under
guard
,
with
her
Ladies
.
Beseech
your
Highness
,
call
the
Queen
again
.
Be
certain
what
you
do
,
sir
,
lest
your
justice
Prove
violence
,
in
the
which
three
great
ones
suffer
:
Yourself
,
your
queen
,
your
son
.
For
her
,
my
lord
,
I
dare
my
life
lay
down
—
and
will
do
’t
,
sir
,
Please
you
t’
accept
it
—
that
the
Queen
is
spotless
I’
th’
eyes
of
heaven
,
and
to
you
—
I
mean
In
this
which
you
accuse
her
.
If
it
prove
She’s
otherwise
,
I’ll
keep
my
stables
where
I
lodge
my
wife
.
I’ll
go
in
couples
with
her
;
Than
when
I
feel
and
see
her
,
no
farther
trust
her
.
For
every
inch
of
woman
in
the
world
,
Ay
,
every
dram
of
woman’s
flesh
,
is
false
,
If
she
be
.
Hold
your
peaces
.
Good
my
lord
—
It
is
for
you
we
speak
,
not
for
ourselves
.
You
are
abused
,
and
by
some
putter-on
That
will
be
damned
for
’t
.
Would
I
knew
the
villain
!
I
would
land-damn
him
.
Be
she
honor-flawed
,
I
have
three
daughters
—
the
eldest
is
eleven
;
The
second
and
the
third
,
nine
and
some
five
;
If
this
prove
true
,
they’ll
pay
for
’t
.
By
mine
honor
,
I’ll
geld
’em
all
;
fourteen
they
shall
not
see
To
bring
false
generations
.
They
are
co-heirs
,
ACT 2. SC. 1
And
I
had
rather
glib
myself
than
they
Should
not
produce
fair
issue
.
Cease
.
No
more
.
You
smell
this
business
with
a
sense
as
cold
As
is
a
dead
man’s
nose
.
But
I
do
see
’t
and
feel
’t
,
As
you
feel
doing
thus
,
and
see
withal
The
instruments
that
feel
.
If
it
be
so
,
We
need
no
grave
to
bury
honesty
.
There’s
not
a
grain
of
it
the
face
to
sweeten
Of
the
whole
dungy
Earth
earth
.
What
?
Lack
I
credit
?
I
had
rather
you
did
lack
than
I
,
my
lord
,
Upon
this
ground
.
And
more
it
would
content
me
To
have
her
honor
true
than
your
suspicion
,
Be
blamed
for
’t
how
you
might
.
Why
,
what
need
we
Commune
with
you
of
this
,
but
rather
follow
Our
forceful
instigation
?
Our
prerogative
Calls
not
your
counsels
,
but
our
natural
goodness
Imparts
this
,
which
if
you
—
or
stupefied
Or
seeming
so
in
skill
—
cannot
or
will
not
Relish
a
truth
like
us
,
inform
yourselves
We
need
no
more
of
your
advice
.
The
matter
,
The
loss
,
the
gain
,
the
ord’ring
on
’t
is
all
Properly
ours
.
And
I
wish
,
my
liege
,
You
had
only
in
your
silent
judgment
tried
it
,
Without
more
overture
.
How
could
that
be
?
Either
thou
art
most
ignorant
by
age
,
Or
thou
wert
born
a
fool
.
Camillo’s
flight
,
Added
to
their
familiarity
—
Which
was
as
gross
as
ever
touched
conjecture
,
That
lacked
sight
only
,
naught
for
approbation
ACT 2. SC. 2
But
only
seeing
,
all
other
circumstances
Made
up
to
th’
deed
—
doth
push
on
this
proceeding
.
Yet
,
for
a
greater
confirmation
—
For
in
an
act
of
this
importance
’twere
Most
piteous
to
be
wild
—
I
have
dispatched
in
post
To
sacred
Delphos
,
to
Apollo’s
temple
,
Cleomenes
and
Dion
,
whom
you
know
Of
stuffed
sufficiency
.
Now
from
the
oracle
They
will
bring
all
,
whose
spiritual
counsel
had
Shall
stop
or
spur
me
.
Have
I
done
well
?
Well
done
,
my
lord
.
Though
I
am
satisfied
and
need
no
more
Than
what
I
know
,
yet
shall
the
oracle
Give
rest
to
th’
minds
of
others
,
such
as
he
Whose
ignorant
credulity
will
not
Come
up
to
th’
truth
.
So
have
we
thought
it
good
From
our
free
person
she
should
be
confined
,
Lest
that
the
treachery
of
the
two
fled
hence
Be
left
her
to
perform
.
Come
,
follow
us
.
We
are
to
speak
in
public
,
for
this
business
Will
raise
us
all
.
,
aside
To
laughter
,
as
I
take
it
,
If
the
good
truth
were
known
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Paulina
,
a
Gentleman
,
and
Paulina’s
Attendants
.
,
to
Gentleman
The
keeper
of
the
prison
,
call
to
him
.
Let
him
have
knowledge
who
I
am
.
Gentleman
exits
.
Good
lady
,
ACT 2. SC. 2
No
court
in
Europe
is
too
good
for
thee
.
What
dost
thou
then
in
prison
?
Enter
Jailer
,
with
the
Gentleman
.
Now
,
good
sir
,
You
know
me
,
do
you
not
?
For
a
worthy
lady
And
one
who
much
I
honor
.
Pray
you
then
,
Conduct
me
to
the
Queen
.
I
may
not
,
madam
.
To
the
contrary
I
have
express
commandment
.
Here’s
ado
,
to
lock
up
honesty
and
honor
from
Th’
access
of
gentle
visitors
.
Is
’t
lawful
,
pray
you
,
To
see
her
women
?
Any
of
them
?
Emilia
?
So
please
you
,
madam
,
To
put
apart
these
your
attendants
,
I
Shall
bring
Emilia
forth
.
I
pray
now
,
call
her
.
—
Withdraw
yourselves
.
Attendants
and
Gentleman
exit
.
And
,
madam
,
I
must
be
present
at
your
conference
.
Well
,
be
’t
so
,
prithee
.
Jailer
exits
.
Here’s
such
ado
to
make
no
stain
a
stain
As
passes
coloring
.
Enter
Emilia
with
Jailer
.
Dear
gentlewoman
,
How
fares
our
gracious
lady
?
As
well
as
one
so
great
and
so
forlorn
May
hold
together
.
On
her
frights
and
griefs
,
Which
never
tender
lady
hath
borne
greater
,
She
is
something
before
her
time
delivered
.
ACT 2. SC. 2
A
boy
?
A
daughter
,
and
a
goodly
babe
,
Lusty
and
like
to
live
.
The
Queen
receives
Much
comfort
in
’t
,
says
My
poor
prisoner
,
I
am
innocent
as
you
.
I
dare
be
sworn
.
These
dangerous
unsafe
lunes
i’
th’
King
,
beshrew
them
!
He
must
be
told
on
’t
,
and
he
shall
.
The
office
Becomes
a
woman
best
.
I’ll
take
’t
upon
me
.
If
I
prove
honey-mouthed
,
let
my
tongue
blister
And
never
to
my
red-looked
anger
be
The
trumpet
anymore
.
Pray
you
,
Emilia
,
Commend
my
best
obedience
to
the
Queen
.
If
she
dares
trust
me
with
her
little
babe
,
I’ll
show
’t
the
King
and
undertake
to
be
Her
advocate
to
th’
loud’st
We
do
not
know
How
he
may
soften
at
the
sight
o’
th’
child
.
The
silence
often
of
pure
innocence
Persuades
when
speaking
fails
.
Most
worthy
madam
,
Your
honor
and
your
goodness
is
so
evident
That
your
free
undertaking
cannot
miss
A
thriving
issue
.
There
is
no
lady
living
So
meet
for
this
great
errand
.
Please
your
Ladyship
To
visit
the
next
room
,
I’ll
presently
Acquaint
the
Queen
of
your
most
noble
offer
,
Who
but
today
hammered
of
this
design
,
But
durst
not
tempt
a
minister
of
honor
Lest
she
should
be
denied
.
Tell
her
,
Emilia
,
I’ll
use
that
tongue
I
have
.
If
wit
flow
from
’t
As
boldness
from
my
bosom
,
let
’t
not
be
doubted
I
shall
do
good
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
Now
be
you
blest
for
it
!
I’ll
to
the
Queen
.
Please
you
come
something
nearer
.
,
to
Paulina
Madam
,
if
’t
please
the
Queen
to
send
the
babe
,
I
know
not
what
I
shall
incur
to
pass
it
,
Having
no
warrant
.
You
need
not
fear
it
,
sir
.
This
child
was
prisoner
to
the
womb
,
and
is
By
law
and
process
of
great
nature
thence
Freed
and
enfranchised
,
not
a
party
to
The
anger
of
the
King
,
nor
guilty
of
,
If
any
be
,
the
trespass
of
the
Queen
.
I
do
believe
it
.
Do
not
you
fear
.
Upon
mine
honor
,
I
Will
stand
betwixt
you
and
danger
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Leontes
.
Nor
night
nor
day
no
rest
.
It
is
but
weakness
To
bear
the
matter
thus
,
mere
weakness
.
If
The
cause
were
not
in
being
—
part
o’
th’
cause
,
She
th’
adult’ress
,
for
the
harlot
king
Is
quite
beyond
mine
arm
,
out
of
the
blank
And
level
of
my
brain
,
plot-proof
.
But
she
I
can
hook
to
me
.
Say
that
she
were
gone
,
Given
to
the
fire
,
a
moiety
of
my
rest
Might
come
to
me
again
.
—
Who’s
there
?
Enter
a
Servant
.
My
lord
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
How
does
the
boy
?
He
took
good
rest
tonight
.
’Tis
hoped
His
sickness
is
discharged
.
To
see
his
nobleness
,
Conceiving
the
dishonor
of
his
mother
.
He
straight
declined
,
drooped
,
took
it
deeply
,
Fastened
and
fixed
the
shame
on
’t
in
himself
,
Threw
off
his
spirit
,
his
appetite
,
his
sleep
,
And
downright
languished
.
Leave
me
solely
.
Go
,
See
how
he
fares
.
Servant
exits
.
Fie
,
fie
,
no
thought
of
him
.
The
very
thought
of
my
revenges
that
way
Recoil
upon
me
—
in
himself
too
mighty
,
And
in
his
parties
,
his
alliance
.
Let
him
be
Until
a
time
may
serve
.
For
present
vengeance
,
Take
it
on
her
.
Camillo
and
Polixenes
Laugh
at
me
,
make
their
pastime
at
my
sorrow
.
They
should
not
laugh
if
I
could
reach
them
,
nor
Shall
she
within
my
power
.
Enter
Paulina
,
carrying
the
baby
,
with
Servants
,
Antigonus
,
and
Lords
.
You
must
not
enter
.
Nay
,
rather
,
good
my
lords
,
be
second
to
me
.
Fear
you
his
tyrannous
passion
more
,
alas
,
Than
the
Queen’s
life
?
A
gracious
innocent
soul
,
More
free
than
he
is
jealous
.
That’s
enough
.
Madam
,
he
hath
not
slept
tonight
,
commanded
None
should
come
at
him
.
Not
so
hot
,
good
sir
.
I
come
to
bring
him
sleep
.
’Tis
such
as
you
That
creep
like
shadows
by
him
and
do
sigh
ACT 2. SC. 3
At
each
his
needless
heavings
,
such
as
you
Nourish
the
cause
of
his
awaking
.
I
Do
come
with
words
as
medicinal
as
true
,
Honest
as
either
,
to
purge
him
of
that
humor
That
presses
him
from
sleep
.
What
noise
there
,
ho
?
No
noise
,
my
lord
,
but
needful
conference
About
some
gossips
for
your
Highness
.
How
?
—
Away
with
that
audacious
lady
.
Antigonus
,
I
charged
thee
that
she
should
not
come
about
me
.
I
knew
she
would
.
I
told
her
so
,
my
lord
,
On
your
displeasure’s
peril
and
on
mine
,
She
should
not
visit
you
.
What
,
canst
not
rule
her
?
From
all
dishonesty
he
can
.
In
this
,
Unless
he
take
the
course
that
you
have
done
—
Commit
me
for
committing
honor
—
trust
it
,
He
shall
not
rule
me
.
La
you
now
,
you
hear
.
When
she
will
take
the
rein
I
let
her
run
,
But
she’ll
not
stumble
.
Good
my
liege
,
I
come
—
And
I
beseech
you
hear
me
,
who
professes
Myself
your
loyal
servant
,
your
physician
,
Your
most
obedient
counselor
,
yet
that
dares
Less
appear
so
in
comforting
your
evils
Than
such
as
most
seem
yours
—
I
say
I
come
From
your
good
queen
.
Good
queen
?
Good
queen
,
my
lord
,
good
queen
,
I
say
good
queen
,
ACT 2. SC. 3
And
would
by
combat
make
her
good
,
so
were
I
A
man
,
the
worst
about
you
.
Force
her
hence
.
Let
him
that
makes
but
trifles
of
his
eyes
First
hand
me
.
On
mine
own
accord
I’ll
off
,
But
first
I’ll
do
my
errand
.
—
The
good
queen
,
For
she
is
good
,
hath
brought
you
forth
a
daughter
—
Here
’tis
—
commends
it
to
your
blessing
.
She
lays
down
the
baby
.
Out
!
A
mankind
witch
!
Hence
with
her
,
out
o’
door
.
A
most
intelligencing
bawd
.
Not
so
.
I
am
as
ignorant
in
that
as
you
In
so
entitling
me
,
and
no
less
honest
Than
you
are
mad
—
which
is
enough
,
I’ll
warrant
,
As
this
world
goes
,
to
pass
for
honest
.
Traitors
,
Will
you
not
push
her
out
?
To
Antigonus
.
Give
her
the
bastard
,
Thou
dotard
;
thou
art
woman-tired
,
unroosted
By
thy
Dame
Partlet
here
.
Take
up
the
bastard
,
Take
’t
up
,
I
say
.
Give
’t
to
thy
crone
.
,
to
Antigonus
Forever
Unvenerable
be
thy
hands
if
thou
Tak’st
up
the
Princess
by
that
forced
baseness
Which
he
has
put
upon
’t
.
He
dreads
his
wife
.
So
I
would
you
did
.
Then
’twere
past
all
doubt
You’d
call
your
children
yours
.
A
nest
of
traitors
!
I
am
none
,
by
this
good
light
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
Nor
I
,
nor
any
But
one
that’s
here
,
and
that’s
himself
.
For
he
The
sacred
honor
of
himself
,
his
queen’s
,
His
hopeful
son’s
,
his
babe’s
,
betrays
to
slander
,
Whose
sting
is
sharper
than
the
sword’s
;
and
will
not
—
For
,
as
the
case
now
stands
,
it
is
a
curse
He
cannot
be
compelled
to
’t
—
once
remove
The
root
of
his
opinion
,
which
is
rotten
As
ever
oak
or
stone
was
sound
.
A
callet
Of
boundless
tongue
,
who
late
hath
beat
her
husband
And
now
baits
me
!
This
brat
is
none
of
mine
.
It
is
the
issue
of
Polixenes
.
Hence
with
it
,
and
together
with
the
dam
Commit
them
to
the
fire
.
It
is
yours
,
And
,
might
we
lay
th’
old
proverb
to
your
charge
,
So
like
you
’tis
the
worse
.
—
Behold
,
my
lords
,
Although
the
print
be
little
,
the
whole
matter
And
copy
of
the
father
—
eye
,
nose
,
lip
,
The
trick
of
’s
frown
,
his
forehead
,
nay
,
the
valley
,
The
pretty
dimples
of
his
chin
and
cheek
,
his
smiles
,
The
very
mold
and
frame
of
hand
,
nail
,
finger
.
And
thou
,
good
goddess
Nature
,
which
hast
made
it
So
like
to
him
that
got
it
,
if
thou
hast
The
ordering
of
the
mind
too
,
’mongst
all
colors
No
yellow
in
’t
,
lest
she
suspect
,
as
he
does
,
Her
children
not
her
husband’s
.
A
gross
hag
!
—
And
,
losel
,
thou
art
worthy
to
be
hanged
That
wilt
not
stay
her
tongue
.
Hang
all
the
husbands
That
cannot
do
that
feat
,
you’ll
leave
yourself
Hardly
one
subject
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
Once
more
,
take
her
hence
.
A
most
unworthy
and
unnatural
lord
Can
do
no
more
.
I’ll
ha’
thee
burnt
.
I
care
not
.
It
is
an
heretic
that
makes
the
fire
,
Not
she
which
burns
in
’t
.
I’ll
not
call
you
tyrant
;
But
this
most
cruel
usage
of
your
queen
,
Not
able
to
produce
more
accusation
Than
your
own
weak-hinged
fancy
,
something
savors
Of
tyranny
,
and
will
ignoble
make
you
,
Yea
,
scandalous
to
the
world
.
,
to
Antigonus
On
your
allegiance
,
Out
of
the
chamber
with
her
!
Were
I
a
tyrant
,
Where
were
her
life
?
She
durst
not
call
me
so
If
she
did
know
me
one
.
Away
with
her
!
,
to
Lords
I
pray
you
do
not
push
me
;
I’ll
be
gone
.
—
Look
to
your
babe
,
my
lord
;
’tis
yours
.
Jove
send
her
A
better
guiding
spirit
.
—
What
needs
these
hands
?
You
that
are
thus
so
tender
o’er
his
follies
Will
never
do
him
good
,
not
one
of
you
.
So
,
so
.
Farewell
,
we
are
gone
.
She
exits
.
,
to
Antigonus
Thou
,
traitor
,
hast
set
on
thy
wife
to
this
.
My
child
?
Away
with
’t
!
Even
thou
,
that
hast
A
heart
so
tender
o’er
it
,
take
it
hence
,
And
see
it
instantly
consumed
with
fire
.
Even
thou
,
and
none
but
thou
.
Take
it
up
straight
.
Within
this
hour
bring
me
word
’tis
done
,
And
by
good
testimony
,
or
I’ll
seize
thy
life
,
With
what
thou
else
call’st
thine
.
If
thou
refuse
And
wilt
encounter
with
my
wrath
,
say
so
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
The
bastard
brains
with
these
my
proper
hands
Shall
I
dash
out
.
Go
,
take
it
to
the
fire
,
For
thou
sett’st
on
thy
wife
.
I
did
not
,
sir
.
These
lords
,
my
noble
fellows
,
if
they
please
,
Can
clear
me
in
’t
.
We
can
,
my
royal
liege
.
He
is
not
guilty
of
her
coming
hither
.
You’re
liars
all
.
Beseech
your
Highness
,
give
us
better
credit
.
We
have
always
truly
served
you
,
and
beseech
So
to
esteem
of
us
.
And
on
our
knees
we
beg
,
As
recompense
of
our
dear
services
Past
and
to
come
,
that
you
do
change
this
purpose
,
Which
being
so
horrible
,
so
bloody
,
must
Lead
on
to
some
foul
issue
.
We
all
kneel
.
I
am
a
feather
for
each
wind
that
blows
.
Shall
I
live
on
to
see
this
bastard
kneel
And
call
me
father
?
Better
burn
it
now
Than
curse
it
then
.
But
be
it
;
let
it
live
.
It
shall
not
neither
.
To
Antigonus
.
You
,
sir
,
come
you
hither
,
You
that
have
been
so
tenderly
officious
With
Lady
Margery
,
your
midwife
there
,
To
save
this
bastard’s
life
—
for
’tis
a
bastard
,
So
sure
as
this
beard’s
gray
.
What
will
you
adventure
To
save
this
brat’s
life
?
Anything
,
my
lord
,
That
my
ability
may
undergo
And
nobleness
impose
.
At
least
thus
much
:
I’ll
pawn
the
little
blood
which
I
have
left
To
save
the
innocent
.
Anything
possible
.
ACT 2. SC. 3
It
shall
be
possible
.
Swear
by
this
sword
Thou
wilt
perform
my
bidding
.
,
his
hand
on
the
hilt
I
will
,
my
lord
.
Mark
,
and
perform
it
,
seest
thou
;
for
the
fail
Of
any
point
in
’t
shall
not
only
be
Death
to
thyself
but
to
thy
lewd-tongued
wife
,
Whom
for
this
time
we
pardon
.
We
enjoin
thee
,
As
thou
art
liegeman
to
us
,
that
thou
carry
This
female
bastard
hence
,
and
that
thou
bear
it
To
some
remote
and
desert
place
quite
out
Of
our
dominions
,
and
that
there
thou
leave
it
,
Without
more
mercy
,
to
it
own
protection
And
favor
of
the
climate
.
As
by
strange
fortune
It
came
to
us
,
I
do
in
justice
charge
thee
,
On
thy
soul’s
peril
and
thy
body’s
torture
,
That
thou
commend
it
strangely
to
some
place
Where
chance
may
nurse
or
end
it
.
Take
it
up
.
I
swear
to
do
this
,
though
a
present
death
Had
been
more
merciful
.
—
Come
on
,
poor
babe
.
He
picks
up
the
baby
.
Some
powerful
spirit
instruct
the
kites
and
ravens
To
be
thy
nurses
!
Wolves
and
bears
,
they
say
,
Casting
their
savageness
aside
,
have
done
Like
offices
of
pity
.
To
Leontes
.
Sir
,
be
prosperous
In
more
than
this
deed
does
require
.
—
And
blessing
Against
this
cruelty
fight
on
thy
side
,
Poor
thing
,
condemned
to
loss
.
He
exits
,
carrying
the
baby
.
No
,
I’ll
not
rear
Another’s
issue
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
Please
your
Highness
,
posts
ACT 2. SC. 3
From
those
you
sent
to
th’
oracle
are
come
An
hour
since
.
Cleomenes
and
Dion
,
Being
well
arrived
from
Delphos
,
are
both
landed
,
Hasting
to
th’
court
.
,
to
Leontes
So
please
you
,
sir
,
their
speed
Hath
been
beyond
account
.
Twenty-three
days
They
have
been
absent
.
’Tis
good
speed
,
foretells
The
great
Apollo
suddenly
will
have
The
truth
of
this
appear
.
Prepare
you
,
lords
.
Summon
a
session
,
that
we
may
arraign
Our
most
disloyal
lady
;
for
,
as
she
hath
Been
publicly
accused
,
so
shall
she
have
A
just
and
open
trial
.
While
she
lives
,
My
heart
will
be
a
burden
to
me
.
Leave
me
,
And
think
upon
my
bidding
.
They
exit
.
ACT
3
Scene
1
Enter
Cleomenes
and
Dion
.
The
climate’s
delicate
,
the
air
most
sweet
,
Fertile
the
isle
,
the
temple
much
surpassing
The
common
praise
it
bears
.
I
shall
report
,
For
most
it
caught
me
,
the
celestial
habits
—
Methinks
I
so
should
term
them
—
and
the
reverence
Of
the
grave
wearers
.
O
,
the
sacrifice
,
How
ceremonious
,
solemn
,
and
unearthly
It
was
i’
th’
off’ring
!
But
of
all
,
the
burst
And
the
ear-deaf’ning
voice
o’
th’
oracle
,
Kin
to
Jove’s
thunder
,
so
surprised
my
sense
That
I
was
nothing
.
If
th’
event
o’
th’
journey
Prove
as
successful
to
the
Queen
—
O
,
be
’t
so
!
—
As
it
hath
been
to
us
rare
,
pleasant
,
speedy
,
The
time
is
worth
the
use
on
’t
.
Great
Apollo
Turn
all
to
th’
best
!
These
proclamations
,
So
forcing
faults
upon
Hermione
,
I
little
like
.
The
violent
carriage
of
it
Will
clear
or
end
the
business
when
the
oracle
,
ACT 3. SC. 2
Thus
by
Apollo’s
great
divine
sealed
up
,
Shall
the
contents
discover
.
Something
rare
Even
then
will
rush
to
knowledge
.
Go
.
Fresh
horses
;
And
gracious
be
the
issue
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Leontes
,
Lords
,
and
Officers
.
This
sessions
,
to
our
great
grief
we
pronounce
,
Even
pushes
’gainst
our
heart
:
the
party
tried
The
daughter
of
a
king
,
our
wife
,
and
one
Of
us
too
much
beloved
.
Let
us
be
cleared
Of
being
tyrannous
,
since
we
so
openly
Proceed
in
justice
,
which
shall
have
due
course
Even
to
the
guilt
or
the
purgation
.
Produce
the
prisoner
.
It
is
his
Highness’
pleasure
that
the
Queen
Appear
in
person
here
in
court
.
Enter
Hermione
,
as
to
her
trial
,
Paulina
,
and
Ladies
.
Silence
!
Read
the
indictment
.
reads
Hermione
,
queen
to
the
worthy
Leontes
,
King
of
Sicilia
,
thou
art
here
accused
and
arraigned
of
high
treason
,
in
committing
adultery
with
Polixenes
,
King
of
Bohemia
,
and
conspiring
with
Camillo
to
take
away
the
life
of
our
sovereign
lord
the
King
,
thy
royal
husband
;
the
pretense
whereof
being
by
circumstances
partly
laid
open
,
thou
,
Hermione
,
contrary
to
the
faith
and
allegiance
of
a
true
subject
,
didst
counsel
and
aid
them
,
for
their
better
safety
,
to
fly
away
by
night
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Since
what
I
am
to
say
must
be
but
that
Which
contradicts
my
accusation
,
and
The
testimony
on
my
part
no
other
But
what
comes
from
myself
,
it
shall
scarce
boot
me
To
say
Not
guilty
.
Mine
integrity
,
Being
counted
falsehood
,
shall
,
as
I
express
it
,
Be
so
received
.
But
thus
:
if
powers
divine
Behold
our
human
actions
,
as
they
do
,
I
doubt
not
then
but
innocence
shall
make
False
accusation
blush
and
tyranny
Tremble
at
patience
.
You
,
my
lord
,
best
know
,
Whom
least
will
seem
to
do
so
,
my
past
life
Hath
been
as
continent
,
as
chaste
,
as
true
,
As
I
am
now
unhappy
;
which
is
more
Than
history
can
pattern
,
though
devised
And
played
to
take
spectators
.
For
behold
me
,
A
fellow
of
the
royal
bed
,
which
owe
A
moiety
of
the
throne
,
a
great
king’s
daughter
,
The
mother
to
a
hopeful
prince
,
here
standing
To
prate
and
talk
for
life
and
honor
fore
Who
please
to
come
and
hear
.
For
life
,
I
prize
it
As
I
weigh
grief
,
which
I
would
spare
.
For
honor
,
’Tis
a
derivative
from
me
to
mine
,
And
only
that
I
stand
for
.
I
appeal
To
your
own
conscience
,
sir
,
before
Polixenes
Came
to
your
court
,
how
I
was
in
your
grace
,
How
merited
to
be
so
;
since
he
came
,
With
what
encounter
so
uncurrent
I
Have
strained
t’
appear
thus
;
if
one
jot
beyond
The
bound
of
honor
,
or
in
act
or
will
That
way
inclining
,
hardened
be
the
hearts
Of
all
that
hear
me
,
and
my
near’st
of
kin
Cry
fie
upon
my
grave
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
I
ne’er
heard
yet
That
any
of
these
bolder
vices
wanted
Less
impudence
to
gainsay
what
they
did
Than
to
perform
it
first
.
That’s
true
enough
,
Though
’tis
a
saying
,
sir
,
not
due
to
me
.
You
will
not
own
it
.
More
than
mistress
of
Which
comes
to
me
in
name
of
fault
,
I
must
not
At
all
acknowledge
.
For
Polixenes
,
With
whom
I
am
accused
,
I
do
confess
I
loved
him
as
in
honor
he
required
,
With
such
a
kind
of
love
as
might
become
A
lady
like
me
,
with
a
love
even
such
,
So
and
no
other
,
as
yourself
commanded
,
Which
not
to
have
done
,
I
think
,
had
been
in
me
Both
disobedience
and
ingratitude
To
you
and
toward
your
friend
,
whose
love
had
spoke
,
Even
since
it
could
speak
,
from
an
infant
,
freely
That
it
was
yours
.
Now
,
for
conspiracy
,
I
know
not
how
it
tastes
,
though
it
be
dished
For
me
to
try
how
.
All
I
know
of
it
Is
that
Camillo
was
an
honest
man
;
And
why
he
left
your
court
,
the
gods
themselves
,
Wotting
no
more
than
I
,
are
ignorant
.
You
knew
of
his
departure
,
as
you
know
What
you
have
underta’en
to
do
in
’s
absence
.
Sir
,
You
speak
a
language
that
I
understand
not
.
My
life
stands
in
the
level
of
your
dreams
,
Which
I’ll
lay
down
.
Your
actions
are
my
dreams
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
You
had
a
bastard
by
Polixenes
,
And
I
but
dreamed
it
.
As
you
were
past
all
shame
—
Those
of
your
fact
are
so
—
so
past
all
truth
,
Which
to
deny
concerns
more
than
avails
;
for
as
Thy
brat
hath
been
cast
out
,
like
to
itself
,
No
father
owning
it
—
which
is
indeed
More
criminal
in
thee
than
it
—
so
thou
Shalt
feel
our
justice
,
in
whose
easiest
passage
Look
for
no
less
than
death
.
Sir
,
spare
your
threats
.
The
bug
which
you
would
fright
me
with
I
seek
.
To
me
can
life
be
no
commodity
.
The
crown
and
comfort
of
my
life
,
your
favor
,
I
do
give
lost
,
for
I
do
feel
it
gone
,
But
know
not
how
it
went
.
My
second
joy
And
first
fruits
of
my
body
,
from
his
presence
I
am
barred
like
one
infectious
.
My
third
comfort
,
Starred
most
unluckily
,
is
from
my
breast
,
The
innocent
milk
in
it
most
innocent
mouth
,
Haled
out
to
murder
;
myself
on
every
post
Proclaimed
a
strumpet
;
with
immodest
hatred
The
childbed
privilege
denied
,
which
longs
To
women
of
all
fashion
;
lastly
,
hurried
Here
to
this
place
,
i’
th’
open
air
,
before
I
have
got
strength
of
limit
.
Now
,
my
liege
,
Tell
me
what
blessings
I
have
here
alive
,
That
I
should
fear
to
die
?
Therefore
proceed
.
But
yet
hear
this
(
mistake
me
not
:
no
life
,
I
prize
it
not
a
straw
,
but
for
mine
honor
,
Which
I
would
free
)
,
if
I
shall
be
condemned
Upon
surmises
,
all
proofs
sleeping
else
But
what
your
jealousies
awake
,
I
tell
you
’Tis
rigor
,
and
not
law
.
Your
Honors
all
,
I
do
refer
me
to
the
oracle
.
Apollo
be
my
judge
.
This
your
request
ACT 3. SC. 2
Is
altogether
just
.
Therefore
bring
forth
,
And
in
Apollo’s
name
,
his
oracle
.
Officers
exit
.
The
Emperor
of
Russia
was
my
father
.
O
,
that
he
were
alive
and
here
beholding
His
daughter’s
trial
,
that
he
did
but
see
The
flatness
of
my
misery
,
yet
with
eyes
Of
pity
,
not
revenge
.
Enter
Cleomenes
,
Dion
,
with
Officers
.
,
presenting
a
sword
You
here
shall
swear
upon
this
sword
of
justice
That
you
,
Cleomenes
and
Dion
,
have
Been
both
at
Delphos
,
and
from
thence
have
brought
This
sealed-up
oracle
,
by
the
hand
delivered
Of
great
Apollo’s
priest
,
and
that
since
then
You
have
not
dared
to
break
the
holy
seal
Nor
read
the
secrets
in
’t
.
All
this
we
swear
.
Break
up
the
seals
and
read
.
reads
Hermione
is
chaste
,
Polixenes
blameless
,
Camillo
a
true
subject
,
Leontes
a
jealous
tyrant
,
his
innocent
babe
truly
begotten
;
and
the
King
shall
live
without
an
heir
if
that
which
is
lost
be
not
found
.
Now
blessèd
be
the
great
Apollo
!
Praised
!
Hast
thou
read
truth
?
Ay
,
my
lord
,
even
so
as
it
is
here
set
down
.
There
is
no
truth
at
all
i’
th’
oracle
.
The
sessions
shall
proceed
.
This
is
mere
falsehood
.
ACT 3. SC. 2
Enter
a
Servant
.
My
lord
the
King
,
the
King
!
What
is
the
business
?
O
sir
,
I
shall
be
hated
to
report
it
.
The
Prince
your
son
,
with
mere
conceit
and
fear
Of
the
Queen’s
speed
,
is
gone
.
How
?
Gone
?
Is
dead
.
Apollo’s
angry
,
and
the
heavens
themselves
Do
strike
at
my
injustice
.
Hermione
falls
.
How
now
there
?
This
news
is
mortal
to
the
Queen
.
Look
down
And
see
what
death
is
doing
.
Take
her
hence
.
Her
heart
is
but
o’ercharged
.
She
will
recover
.
I
have
too
much
believed
mine
own
suspicion
.
Beseech
you
,
tenderly
apply
to
her
Some
remedies
for
life
.
Paulina
exits
with
Officers
carrying
Hermione
.
Apollo
,
pardon
My
great
profaneness
’gainst
thine
oracle
.
I’ll
reconcile
me
to
Polixenes
,
New
woo
my
queen
,
recall
the
good
Camillo
,
Whom
I
proclaim
a
man
of
truth
,
of
mercy
;
For
,
being
transported
by
my
jealousies
To
bloody
thoughts
and
to
revenge
,
I
chose
Camillo
for
the
minister
to
poison
ACT 3. SC. 2
My
friend
Polixenes
,
which
had
been
done
But
that
the
good
mind
of
Camillo
tardied
My
swift
command
,
though
I
with
death
and
with
Reward
did
threaten
and
encourage
him
,
Not
doing
it
and
being
done
.
He
,
most
humane
And
filled
with
honor
,
to
my
kingly
guest
Unclasped
my
practice
,
quit
his
fortunes
here
,
Which
you
knew
great
,
and
to
the
hazard
Of
all
incertainties
himself
commended
,
No
richer
than
his
honor
.
How
he
glisters
Through
my
rust
,
and
how
his
piety
Does
my
deeds
make
the
blacker
!
Enter
Paulina
.
Woe
the
while
!
O
,
cut
my
lace
,
lest
my
heart
,
cracking
it
,
Break
too
!
What
fit
is
this
,
good
lady
?
,
to
Leontes
What
studied
torments
,
tyrant
,
hast
for
me
?
What
wheels
,
racks
,
fires
?
What
flaying
?
Boiling
In
leads
or
oils
?
What
old
or
newer
torture
Must
I
receive
,
whose
every
word
deserves
To
taste
of
thy
most
worst
?
Thy
tyranny
,
Together
working
with
thy
jealousies
,
Fancies
too
weak
for
boys
,
too
green
and
idle
For
girls
of
nine
,
O
,
think
what
they
have
done
,
And
then
run
mad
indeed
,
stark
mad
,
for
all
Thy
bygone
fooleries
were
but
spices
of
it
.
That
thou
betrayedst
Polixenes
,
’twas
nothing
;
That
did
but
show
thee
of
a
fool
,
inconstant
And
damnable
ingrateful
.
Nor
was
’t
much
Thou
wouldst
have
poisoned
good
Camillo’s
honor
,
To
have
him
kill
a
king
:
poor
trespasses
,
More
monstrous
standing
by
,
whereof
I
reckon
ACT 3. SC. 2
The
casting
forth
to
crows
thy
baby
daughter
To
be
or
none
or
little
,
though
a
devil
Would
have
shed
water
out
of
fire
ere
done
’t
.
Nor
is
’t
directly
laid
to
thee
the
death
Of
the
young
prince
,
whose
honorable
thoughts
,
Thoughts
high
for
one
so
tender
,
cleft
the
heart
That
could
conceive
a
gross
and
foolish
sire
Blemished
his
gracious
dam
.
This
is
not
,
no
,
Laid
to
thy
answer
.
But
the
last
—
O
lords
,
When
I
have
said
,
cry
woe
!
—
the
Queen
,
the
Queen
,
The
sweet’st
,
dear’st
creature’s
dead
,
and
vengeance
for
’t
Not
dropped
down
yet
.
The
higher
powers
forbid
!
I
say
she’s
dead
.
I’ll
swear
’t
.
If
word
nor
oath
Prevail
not
,
go
and
see
.
If
you
can
bring
Tincture
or
luster
in
her
lip
,
her
eye
,
Heat
outwardly
or
breath
within
,
I’ll
serve
you
As
I
would
do
the
gods
.
—
But
,
O
thou
tyrant
,
Do
not
repent
these
things
,
for
they
are
heavier
Than
all
thy
woes
can
stir
.
Therefore
betake
thee
To
nothing
but
despair
.
A
thousand
knees
Ten
thousand
years
together
,
naked
,
fasting
,
Upon
a
barren
mountain
,
and
still
winter
In
storm
perpetual
,
could
not
move
the
gods
To
look
that
way
thou
wert
.
Go
on
,
go
on
.
Thou
canst
not
speak
too
much
.
I
have
deserved
All
tongues
to
talk
their
bitt’rest
.
,
to
Paulina
Say
no
more
.
Howe’er
the
business
goes
,
you
have
made
fault
I’
th’
boldness
of
your
speech
.
I
am
sorry
for
’t
.
All
faults
I
make
,
when
I
shall
come
to
know
them
,
ACT 3. SC. 3
I
do
repent
.
Alas
,
I
have
showed
too
much
The
rashness
of
a
woman
.
He
is
touched
To
th’
noble
heart
.
—
What’s
gone
and
what’s
past
help
Should
be
past
grief
.
Do
not
receive
affliction
At
my
petition
.
I
beseech
you
,
rather
Let
me
be
punished
,
that
have
minded
you
Of
what
you
should
forget
.
Now
,
good
my
liege
,
Sir
,
royal
sir
,
forgive
a
foolish
woman
.
The
love
I
bore
your
queen
—
lo
,
fool
again
!
—
I’ll
speak
of
her
no
more
,
nor
of
your
children
.
I’ll
not
remember
you
of
my
own
lord
,
Who
is
lost
too
.
Take
your
patience
to
you
,
And
I’ll
say
nothing
.
Thou
didst
speak
but
well
When
most
the
truth
,
which
I
receive
much
better
Than
to
be
pitied
of
thee
.
Prithee
,
bring
me
To
the
dead
bodies
of
my
queen
and
son
.
One
grave
shall
be
for
both
.
Upon
them
shall
The
causes
of
their
death
appear
,
unto
Our
shame
perpetual
.
Once
a
day
I’ll
visit
The
chapel
where
they
lie
,
and
tears
shed
there
Shall
be
my
recreation
.
So
long
as
nature
Will
bear
up
with
this
exercise
,
so
long
I
daily
vow
to
use
it
.
Come
,
and
lead
me
To
these
sorrows
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Antigonus
carrying
the
babe
,
and
a
Mariner
.
Thou
art
perfect
,
then
,
our
ship
hath
touched
upon
The
deserts
of
Bohemia
?
ACT 3. SC. 3
Ay
,
my
lord
,
and
fear
We
have
landed
in
ill
time
.
The
skies
look
grimly
And
threaten
present
blusters
.
In
my
conscience
,
The
heavens
with
that
we
have
in
hand
are
angry
And
frown
upon
’s
.
Their
sacred
wills
be
done
.
Go
,
get
aboard
.
Look
to
thy
bark
.
I’ll
not
be
long
before
I
call
upon
thee
.
Make
your
best
haste
,
and
go
not
Too
far
i’
th’
land
.
’Tis
like
to
be
loud
weather
.
Besides
,
this
place
is
famous
for
the
creatures
Of
prey
that
keep
upon
’t
.
Go
thou
away
.
I’ll
follow
instantly
.
I
am
glad
at
heart
To
be
so
rid
o’
th’
business
.
He
exits
.
Come
,
poor
babe
.
I
have
heard
,
but
not
believed
,
the
spirits
o’
th’
dead
May
walk
again
.
If
such
thing
be
,
thy
mother
Appeared
to
me
last
night
,
for
ne’er
was
dream
So
like
a
waking
.
To
me
comes
a
creature
,
Sometimes
her
head
on
one
side
,
some
another
.
I
never
saw
a
vessel
of
like
sorrow
,
So
filled
and
so
becoming
.
In
pure
white
robes
,
Like
very
sanctity
,
she
did
approach
My
cabin
where
I
lay
,
thrice
bowed
before
me
,
And
,
gasping
to
begin
some
speech
,
her
eyes
Became
two
spouts
.
The
fury
spent
,
anon
Did
this
break
from
her
:
Good
Antigonus
,
Since
fate
,
against
thy
better
disposition
,
Hath
made
thy
person
for
the
thrower-out
Of
my
poor
babe
,
according
to
thine
oath
,
Places
remote
enough
are
in
Bohemia
.
There
weep
,
and
leave
it
crying
.
And
,
for
the
babe
Is
counted
lost
forever
,
Perdita
ACT 3. SC. 3
I
prithee
call
’t
.
For
this
ungentle
business
Put
on
thee
by
my
lord
,
thou
ne’er
shalt
see
Thy
wife
Paulina
more
.
And
so
,
with
shrieks
,
She
melted
into
air
.
Affrighted
much
,
I
did
in
time
collect
myself
and
thought
This
was
so
and
no
slumber
.
Dreams
are
toys
,
Yet
for
this
once
,
yea
,
superstitiously
,
I
will
be
squared
by
this
.
I
do
believe
Hermione
hath
suffered
death
,
and
that
Apollo
would
,
this
being
indeed
the
issue
Of
King
Polixenes
,
it
should
here
be
laid
,
Either
for
life
or
death
,
upon
the
earth
Of
its
right
father
.
—
Blossom
,
speed
thee
well
.
There
lie
,
and
there
thy
character
;
there
these
,
He
lays
down
the
baby
,
a
bundle
,
and
a
box
.
Which
may
,
if
fortune
please
,
both
breed
thee
,
pretty
,
And
still
rest
thine
.
Thunder
.
The
storm
begins
.
Poor
wretch
,
That
for
thy
mother’s
fault
art
thus
exposed
To
loss
and
what
may
follow
.
Weep
I
cannot
,
But
my
heart
bleeds
,
and
most
accurst
am
I
To
be
by
oath
enjoined
to
this
.
Farewell
.
The
day
frowns
more
and
more
.
Thou
’rt
like
to
have
A
lullaby
too
rough
.
I
never
saw
The
heavens
so
dim
by
day
.
Thunder
,
and
sounds
of
hunting
.
A
savage
clamor
!
Well
may
I
get
aboard
!
This
is
the
chase
.
I
am
gone
forever
!
He
exits
,
pursued
by
a
bear
.
Enter
Shepherd
.
I
would
there
were
no
age
between
ten
and
three-and-twenty
,
or
that
youth
would
sleep
out
the
rest
,
for
there
is
nothing
in
the
between
but
getting
wenches
with
child
,
wronging
the
ancientry
,
stealing
,
ACT 3. SC. 3
fighting
—
Hark
you
now
.
Would
any
but
these
boiled
brains
of
nineteen
and
two-and-twenty
hunt
this
weather
?
They
have
scared
away
two
of
my
best
sheep
,
which
I
fear
the
wolf
will
sooner
find
than
the
master
.
If
anywhere
I
have
them
,
’tis
by
the
seaside
,
browsing
of
ivy
.
Good
luck
,
an
’t
be
thy
will
,
what
have
we
here
?
Mercy
on
’s
,
a
bairn
!
A
very
pretty
bairn
.
A
boy
or
a
child
,
I
wonder
?
A
pretty
one
,
a
very
pretty
one
.
Sure
some
scape
.
Though
I
am
not
bookish
,
yet
I
can
read
waiting-gentlewoman
in
the
scape
.
This
has
been
some
stair-work
,
some
trunk-work
,
some
behind-door
work
.
They
were
warmer
that
got
this
than
the
poor
thing
is
here
.
I’ll
take
it
up
for
pity
.
Yet
I’ll
tarry
till
my
son
come
.
He
halloed
but
even
now
.
—
Whoa-ho-ho
!
Enter
Shepherd’s
Son
.
Hilloa
,
loa
!
What
,
art
so
near
?
If
thou
’lt
see
a
thing
to
talk
on
when
thou
art
dead
and
rotten
,
come
hither
.
What
ail’st
thou
,
man
?
I
have
seen
two
such
sights
,
by
sea
and
by
land
—
but
I
am
not
to
say
it
is
a
sea
,
for
it
is
now
the
sky
;
betwixt
the
firmament
and
it
,
you
cannot
thrust
a
bodkin’s
point
.
Why
,
boy
,
how
is
it
?
I
would
you
did
but
see
how
it
chafes
,
how
it
rages
,
how
it
takes
up
the
shore
.
But
that’s
not
to
the
point
.
O
,
the
most
piteous
cry
of
the
poor
souls
!
Sometimes
to
see
’em
,
and
not
to
see
’em
.
Now
the
ship
boring
the
moon
with
her
mainmast
,
and
anon
swallowed
with
yeast
and
froth
,
as
you’d
thrust
a
cork
into
a
hogshead
.
And
then
for
the
land
service
,
to
see
how
the
bear
tore
out
his
shoulder-bone
,
how
he
cried
to
me
for
help
,
and
said
his
ACT 3. SC. 3
name
was
Antigonus
,
a
nobleman
.
But
to
make
an
end
of
the
ship
:
to
see
how
the
sea
flap-dragoned
it
.
But
,
first
,
how
the
poor
souls
roared
and
the
sea
mocked
them
,
and
how
the
poor
gentleman
roared
and
the
bear
mocked
him
,
both
roaring
louder
than
the
sea
or
weather
.
Name
of
mercy
,
when
was
this
,
boy
?
Now
,
now
.
I
have
not
winked
since
I
saw
these
sights
.
The
men
are
not
yet
cold
under
water
,
nor
the
bear
half
dined
on
the
gentleman
.
He’s
at
it
now
.
Would
I
had
been
by
to
have
helped
the
old
man
.
I
would
you
had
been
by
the
ship
side
,
to
have
helped
her
.
There
your
charity
would
have
lacked
footing
.
Heavy
matters
,
heavy
matters
.
But
look
thee
here
,
boy
.
Now
bless
thyself
.
Thou
met’st
with
things
dying
,
I
with
things
newborn
.
Here’s
a
sight
for
thee
.
Look
thee
,
a
bearing
cloth
for
a
squire’s
child
.
Look
thee
here
.
Take
up
,
take
up
,
boy
.
Open
’t
.
So
,
let’s
see
.
It
was
told
me
I
should
be
rich
by
the
fairies
.
This
is
some
changeling
.
Open
’t
.
What’s
within
,
boy
?
,
opening
the
box
You’re
a
made
old
man
.
If
the
sins
of
your
youth
are
forgiven
you
,
you’re
well
to
live
.
Gold
,
all
gold
.
This
is
fairy
gold
,
boy
,
and
’twill
prove
so
.
Up
with
’t
,
keep
it
close
.
Home
,
home
,
the
next
way
.
We
are
lucky
,
boy
,
and
to
be
so
still
requires
nothing
but
secrecy
.
Let
my
sheep
go
.
Come
,
good
boy
,
the
next
way
home
.
Go
you
the
next
way
with
your
findings
.
I’ll
go
see
if
the
bear
be
gone
from
the
gentleman
and
how
much
he
hath
eaten
.
They
are
ACT 3. SC. 3
never
curst
but
when
they
are
hungry
.
If
there
be
any
of
him
left
,
I’ll
bury
it
.
That’s
a
good
deed
.
If
thou
mayest
discern
by
that
which
is
left
of
him
what
he
is
,
fetch
me
to
th’
sight
of
him
.
Marry
,
will
I
,
and
you
shall
help
to
put
him
i’
th’
ground
.
’Tis
a
lucky
day
,
boy
,
and
we’ll
do
good
deeds
on
’t
.
They
exit
.
ACT
4
Scene
1
Enter
Time
,
the
Chorus
.
I
,
that
please
some
,
try
all
—
both
joy
and
terror
Of
good
and
bad
,
that
makes
and
unfolds
error
—
Now
take
upon
me
,
in
the
name
of
Time
,
To
use
my
wings
.
Impute
it
not
a
crime
To
me
or
my
swift
passage
that
I
slide
O’er
sixteen
years
,
and
leave
the
growth
untried
Of
that
wide
gap
,
since
it
is
in
my
power
To
o’erthrow
law
and
in
one
self-born
hour
To
plant
and
o’erwhelm
custom
.
Let
me
pass
The
same
I
am
ere
ancient’st
order
was
Or
what
is
now
received
.
I
witness
to
The
times
that
brought
them
in
.
So
shall
I
do
To
th’
freshest
things
now
reigning
,
and
make
stale
The
glistering
of
this
present
,
as
my
tale
Now
seems
to
it
.
Your
patience
this
allowing
,
I
turn
my
glass
and
give
my
scene
such
growing
As
you
had
slept
between
.
Leontes
leaving
,
Th’
effects
of
his
fond
jealousies
so
grieving
That
he
shuts
up
himself
,
imagine
me
,
Gentle
spectators
,
that
I
now
may
be
In
fair
Bohemia
.
And
remember
well
I
mentioned
a
son
o’
th’
King’s
,
which
Florizell
I
now
name
to
you
,
and
with
speed
so
pace
ACT 4. SC. 2
To
speak
of
Perdita
,
now
grown
in
grace
Equal
with
wond’ring
.
What
of
her
ensues
I
list
not
prophesy
;
but
let
Time’s
news
Be
known
when
’tis
brought
forth
.
A
shepherd’s
daughter
And
what
to
her
adheres
,
which
follows
after
,
Is
th’
argument
of
Time
.
Of
this
allow
,
If
ever
you
have
spent
time
worse
ere
now
.
If
never
,
yet
that
Time
himself
doth
say
He
wishes
earnestly
you
never
may
.
He
exits
.
Scene
2
Enter
Polixenes
and
Camillo
.
I
pray
thee
,
good
Camillo
,
be
no
more
importunate
.
’Tis
a
sickness
denying
thee
anything
,
a
death
to
grant
this
.
It
is
fifteen
years
since
I
saw
my
country
.
Though
I
have
for
the
most
part
been
aired
abroad
,
I
desire
to
lay
my
bones
there
.
Besides
,
the
penitent
king
,
my
master
,
hath
sent
for
me
,
to
whose
feeling
sorrows
I
might
be
some
allay
—
or
I
o’erween
to
think
so
—
which
is
another
spur
to
my
departure
.
As
thou
lov’st
me
,
Camillo
,
wipe
not
out
the
rest
of
thy
services
by
leaving
me
now
.
The
need
I
have
of
thee
thine
own
goodness
hath
made
.
Better
not
to
have
had
thee
than
thus
to
want
thee
.
Thou
,
having
made
me
businesses
which
none
without
thee
can
sufficiently
manage
,
must
either
stay
to
execute
them
thyself
or
take
away
with
thee
the
very
services
thou
hast
done
,
which
if
I
have
not
enough
considered
,
as
too
much
I
cannot
,
to
be
more
thankful
to
thee
shall
be
my
study
,
and
my
profit
therein
the
heaping
friendships
.
Of
that
fatal
country
ACT 4. SC. 2
Sicilia
,
prithee
speak
no
more
,
whose
very
naming
punishes
me
with
the
remembrance
of
that
penitent
,
as
thou
call’st
him
,
and
reconciled
king
my
brother
,
whose
loss
of
his
most
precious
queen
and
children
are
even
now
to
be
afresh
lamented
.
Say
to
me
,
when
sawst
thou
the
Prince
Florizell
,
my
son
?
Kings
are
no
less
unhappy
,
their
issue
not
being
gracious
,
than
they
are
in
losing
them
when
they
have
approved
their
virtues
.
Sir
,
it
is
three
days
since
I
saw
the
Prince
.
What
his
happier
affairs
may
be
are
to
me
unknown
,
but
I
have
missingly
noted
he
is
of
late
much
retired
from
court
and
is
less
frequent
to
his
princely
exercises
than
formerly
he
hath
appeared
.
I
have
considered
so
much
,
Camillo
,
and
with
some
care
,
so
far
that
I
have
eyes
under
my
service
which
look
upon
his
removedness
,
from
whom
I
have
this
intelligence
:
that
he
is
seldom
from
the
house
of
a
most
homely
shepherd
,
a
man
,
they
say
,
that
from
very
nothing
,
and
beyond
the
imagination
of
his
neighbors
,
is
grown
into
an
unspeakable
estate
.
I
have
heard
,
sir
,
of
such
a
man
,
who
hath
a
daughter
of
most
rare
note
.
The
report
of
her
is
extended
more
than
can
be
thought
to
begin
from
such
a
cottage
.
That’s
likewise
part
of
my
intelligence
,
but
,
I
fear
,
the
angle
that
plucks
our
son
thither
.
Thou
shalt
accompany
us
to
the
place
,
where
we
will
,
not
appearing
what
we
are
,
have
some
question
with
the
shepherd
,
from
whose
simplicity
I
think
it
not
uneasy
to
get
the
cause
of
my
son’s
resort
thither
.
Prithee
be
my
present
partner
in
this
business
,
and
lay
aside
the
thoughts
of
Sicilia
.
I
willingly
obey
your
command
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
My
best
Camillo
.
We
must
disguise
ourselves
.
They
exit
.
Scene
3
Enter
Autolycus
singing
.
When
daffodils
begin
to
peer
,
With
heigh
,
the
doxy
over
the
dale
,
Why
,
then
comes
in
the
sweet
o’
the
year
,
For
the
red
blood
reigns
in
the
winter’s
pale
.
The
white
sheet
bleaching
on
the
hedge
,
With
heigh
,
the
sweet
birds
,
O
how
they
sing
!
Doth
set
my
pugging
tooth
an
edge
,
For
a
quart
of
ale
is
a
dish
for
a
king
.
The
lark
,
that
tirralirra
chants
,
With
heigh
,
with
heigh
,
the
thrush
and
the
jay
,
Are
summer
songs
for
me
and
my
aunts
,
While
we
lie
tumbling
in
the
hay
.
I
have
served
Prince
Florizell
and
in
my
time
wore
three-pile
,
but
now
I
am
out
of
service
.
But
shall
I
go
mourn
for
that
,
my
dear
?
The
pale
moon
shines
by
night
,
And
when
I
wander
here
and
there
,
I
then
do
most
go
right
.
If
tinkers
may
have
leave
to
live
,
And
bear
the
sow-skin
budget
,
Then
my
account
I
well
may
give
,
And
in
the
stocks
avouch
it
.
ACT 4. SC. 3
My
traffic
is
sheets
.
When
the
kite
builds
,
look
to
lesser
linen
.
My
father
named
me
Autolycus
,
who
,
being
,
as
I
am
,
littered
under
Mercury
,
was
likewise
a
snapper-up
of
unconsidered
trifles
.
With
die
and
drab
I
purchased
this
caparison
,
and
my
revenue
is
the
silly
cheat
.
Gallows
and
knock
are
too
powerful
on
the
highway
.
Beating
and
hanging
are
terrors
to
me
.
For
the
life
to
come
,
I
sleep
out
the
thought
of
it
.
A
prize
,
a
prize
!
Enter
Shepherd’s
Son
.
Let
me
see
,
every
’leven
wether
tods
,
every
tod
yields
pound
and
odd
shilling
;
fifteen
hundred
shorn
,
what
comes
the
wool
to
?
,
aside
If
the
springe
hold
,
the
cock’s
mine
.
He
lies
down
.
I
cannot
do
’t
without
counters
.
Let
me
see
,
what
am
I
to
buy
for
our
sheep-shearing
feast
?
(
He
reads
a
paper
.
)
Three
pound
of
sugar
,
five
pound
of
currants
,
rice
—
what
will
this
sister
of
mine
do
with
rice
?
But
my
father
hath
made
her
mistress
of
the
feast
,
and
she
lays
it
on
.
She
hath
made
me
four-and-twenty
nosegays
for
the
shearers
,
three-man
song
men
all
,
and
very
good
ones
;
but
they
are
most
of
them
means
and
basses
,
but
one
Puritan
amongst
them
,
and
he
sings
psalms
to
hornpipes
.
I
must
have
saffron
to
color
the
warden
pies
;
mace
;
dates
,
none
,
that’s
out
of
my
note
;
nutmegs
,
seven
;
a
race
or
two
of
ginger
,
but
that
I
may
beg
;
four
pound
of
prunes
,
and
as
many
of
raisins
o’
th’
sun
.
,
writhing
as
if
in
pain
O
,
that
ever
I
was
born
!
I’
th’
name
of
me
!
ACT 4. SC. 3
O
,
help
me
,
help
me
!
Pluck
but
off
these
rags
,
and
then
death
,
death
.
Alack
,
poor
soul
,
thou
hast
need
of
more
rags
to
lay
on
thee
rather
than
have
these
off
.
O
sir
,
the
loathsomeness
of
them
offends
me
more
than
the
stripes
I
have
received
,
which
are
mighty
ones
and
millions
.
Alas
,
poor
man
,
a
million
of
beating
may
come
to
a
great
matter
.
I
am
robbed
,
sir
,
and
beaten
,
my
money
and
apparel
ta’en
from
me
,
and
these
detestable
things
put
upon
me
.
What
,
by
a
horseman
,
or
a
footman
?
A
footman
,
sweet
sir
,
a
footman
.
Indeed
,
he
should
be
a
footman
by
the
garments
he
has
left
with
thee
.
If
this
be
a
horseman’s
coat
,
it
hath
seen
very
hot
service
.
Lend
me
thy
hand
;
I’ll
help
thee
.
Come
,
lend
me
thy
hand
.
O
,
good
sir
,
tenderly
,
O
!
Alas
,
poor
soul
.
O
,
good
sir
,
softly
,
good
sir
.
I
fear
,
sir
,
my
shoulder
blade
is
out
.
How
now
?
Canst
stand
?
,
stealing
the
Shepherd’s
Son’s
purse
Softly
,
dear
sir
,
good
sir
,
softly
.
You
ha’
done
me
a
charitable
office
.
Dost
lack
any
money
?
I
have
a
little
money
for
thee
.
No
,
good
sweet
sir
,
no
,
I
beseech
you
,
sir
.
I
have
a
kinsman
not
past
three-quarters
of
a
mile
hence
,
unto
whom
I
was
going
.
I
shall
there
have
money
or
anything
I
want
.
Offer
me
no
money
,
I
pray
you
;
that
kills
my
heart
.
What
manner
of
fellow
was
he
that
robbed
you
?
ACT 4. SC. 3
A
fellow
,
sir
,
that
I
have
known
to
go
about
with
troll-my-dames
.
I
knew
him
once
a
servant
of
the
Prince
.
I
cannot
tell
,
good
sir
,
for
which
of
his
virtues
it
was
,
but
he
was
certainly
whipped
out
of
the
court
.
His
vices
,
you
would
say
.
There’s
no
virtue
whipped
out
of
the
court
.
They
cherish
it
to
make
it
stay
there
,
and
yet
it
will
no
more
but
abide
.
Vices
,
I
would
say
,
sir
.
I
know
this
man
well
.
He
hath
been
since
an
ape-bearer
,
then
a
process-server
,
a
bailiff
.
Then
he
compassed
a
motion
of
the
Prodigal
Son
,
and
married
a
tinker’s
wife
within
a
mile
where
my
land
and
living
lies
,
and
,
having
flown
over
many
knavish
professions
,
he
settled
only
in
rogue
.
Some
call
him
Autolycus
.
Out
upon
him
!
Prig
,
for
my
life
,
prig
!
He
haunts
wakes
,
fairs
,
and
bearbaitings
.
Very
true
,
sir
:
he
,
sir
,
he
.
That’s
the
rogue
that
put
me
into
this
apparel
.
Not
a
more
cowardly
rogue
in
all
Bohemia
.
If
you
had
but
looked
big
and
spit
at
him
,
he’d
have
run
.
I
must
confess
to
you
,
sir
,
I
am
no
fighter
.
I
am
false
of
heart
that
way
,
and
that
he
knew
,
I
warrant
him
.
How
do
you
now
?
Sweet
sir
,
much
better
than
I
was
.
I
can
stand
and
walk
.
I
will
even
take
my
leave
of
you
and
pace
softly
towards
my
kinsman’s
.
Shall
I
bring
thee
on
the
way
?
No
,
good-faced
sir
,
no
,
sweet
sir
.
Then
fare
thee
well
.
I
must
go
buy
spices
for
our
sheep-shearing
.
Prosper
you
,
sweet
sir
.
Shepherd’s
Son
exits
.
Your
purse
is
not
hot
enough
to
purchase
your
ACT 4. SC. 4
spice
.
I’ll
be
with
you
at
your
sheep-shearing
too
.
If
I
make
not
this
cheat
bring
out
another
,
and
the
shearers
prove
sheep
,
let
me
be
unrolled
and
my
name
put
in
the
book
of
virtue
.
Sings
.
Jog
on
,
jog
on
,
the
footpath
way
,
And
merrily
hent
the
stile-a
.
A
merry
heart
goes
all
the
day
,
Your
sad
tires
in
a
mile-a
.
He
exits
.
Scene
4
Enter
Florizell
and
Perdita
.
These
your
unusual
weeds
to
each
part
of
you
Does
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
.
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’
th’
land
,
you
have
obscured
With
a
swain’s
wearing
,
and
me
,
poor
lowly
maid
,
Most
goddesslike
pranked
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
,
swoon
,
I
think
,
To
show
myself
a
glass
.
I
bless
the
time
When
my
good
falcon
made
her
flight
across
Thy
father’s
ground
.
Now
Jove
afford
you
cause
.
To
me
the
difference
forges
dread
.
Your
greatness
ACT 4. SC. 4
Hath
not
been
used
to
fear
.
Even
now
I
tremble
To
think
your
father
by
some
accident
Should
pass
this
way
as
you
did
.
O
the
Fates
,
How
would
he
look
to
see
his
work
,
so
noble
,
Vilely
bound
up
?
What
would
he
say
?
Or
how
Should
I
,
in
these
my
borrowed
flaunts
,
behold
The
sternness
of
his
presence
?
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
bellowed
;
the
green
Neptune
A
ram
,
and
bleated
;
and
the
fire-robed
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
honor
,
nor
my
lusts
Burn
hotter
than
my
faith
.
O
,
but
sir
,
Your
resolution
cannot
hold
when
’tis
Opposed
,
as
it
must
be
,
by
th’
power
of
the
King
.
One
of
these
two
must
be
necessities
,
Which
then
will
speak
:
that
you
must
change
this
purpose
Or
I
my
life
.
Thou
dear’st
Perdita
,
With
these
forced
thoughts
I
prithee
darken
not
The
mirth
o’
th’
feast
.
Or
I’ll
be
thine
,
my
fair
,
Or
not
my
father’s
.
For
I
cannot
be
Mine
own
,
nor
anything
to
any
,
if
I
be
not
thine
.
To
this
I
am
most
constant
,
Though
destiny
say
no
.
Be
merry
,
gentle
.
Strangle
such
thoughts
as
these
with
anything
That
you
behold
the
while
.
Your
guests
are
coming
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
Lift
up
your
countenance
as
it
were
the
day
Of
celebration
of
that
nuptial
which
We
two
have
sworn
shall
come
.
O
Lady
Fortune
,
Stand
you
auspicious
!
See
,
your
guests
approach
.
Address
yourself
to
entertain
them
sprightly
,
And
let’s
be
red
with
mirth
.
Enter
Shepherd
,
Shepherd’s
Son
,
Mopsa
,
Dorcas
,
Shepherds
and
Shepherdesses
,
Servants
,
Musicians
,
and
Polixenes
and
Camillo
in
disguise
.
Fie
,
daughter
,
when
my
old
wife
lived
,
upon
This
day
she
was
both
pantler
,
butler
,
cook
,
Both
dame
and
servant
;
welcomed
all
;
served
all
;
Would
sing
her
song
and
dance
her
turn
,
now
here
At
upper
end
o’
th’
table
,
now
i’
th’
middle
;
On
his
shoulder
,
and
his
;
her
face
afire
With
labor
,
and
the
thing
she
took
to
quench
it
She
would
to
each
one
sip
.
You
are
retired
As
if
you
were
a
feasted
one
and
not
The
hostess
of
the
meeting
.
Pray
you
bid
These
unknown
friends
to
’s
welcome
,
for
it
is
A
way
to
make
us
better
friends
,
more
known
.
Come
,
quench
your
blushes
and
present
yourself
That
which
you
are
,
mistress
o’
th’
feast
.
Come
on
,
And
bid
us
welcome
to
your
sheep-shearing
,
As
your
good
flock
shall
prosper
.
,
to
Polixenes
Sir
,
welcome
.
It
is
my
father’s
will
I
should
take
on
me
The
hostess-ship
o’
th’
day
.
To
Camillo
.
You’re
welcome
,
sir
.
—
Give
me
those
flowers
there
,
Dorcas
.
—
Reverend
sirs
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
For
you
there’s
rosemary
and
rue
.
These
keep
Seeming
and
savor
all
the
winter
long
.
Grace
and
remembrance
be
to
you
both
,
And
welcome
to
our
shearing
.
Shepherdess
—
A
fair
one
are
you
—
well
you
fit
our
ages
With
flowers
of
winter
.
Sir
,
the
year
growing
ancient
,
Not
yet
on
summer’s
death
nor
on
the
birth
Of
trembling
winter
,
the
fairest
flowers
o’
th’
season
Are
our
carnations
and
streaked
gillyvors
,
Which
some
call
nature’s
bastards
.
Of
that
kind
Our
rustic
garden’s
barren
,
and
I
care
not
To
get
slips
of
them
.
Wherefore
,
gentle
maiden
,
Do
you
neglect
them
?
For
I
have
heard
it
said
There
is
an
art
which
in
their
piedness
shares
With
great
creating
nature
.
Say
there
be
;
Yet
nature
is
made
better
by
no
mean
But
nature
makes
that
mean
.
So
,
over
that
art
Which
you
say
adds
to
nature
is
an
art
That
nature
makes
.
You
see
,
sweet
maid
,
we
marry
A
gentler
scion
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
.
So
it
is
.
Then
make
your
garden
rich
in
gillyvors
,
And
do
not
call
them
bastards
.
I’ll
not
put
The
dibble
in
earth
to
set
one
slip
of
them
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
No
more
than
,
were
I
painted
,
I
would
wish
This
youth
should
say
’twere
well
,
and
only
therefore
Desire
to
breed
by
me
.
Here’s
flowers
for
you
:
Hot
lavender
,
mints
,
savory
,
marjoram
,
The
marigold
,
that
goes
to
bed
wi’
th’
sun
And
with
him
rises
weeping
.
These
are
flowers
Of
middle
summer
,
and
I
think
they
are
given
To
men
of
middle
age
.
You’re
very
welcome
.
I
should
leave
grazing
,
were
I
of
your
flock
,
And
only
live
by
gazing
.
Out
,
alas
!
You’d
be
so
lean
that
blasts
of
January
Would
blow
you
through
and
through
.
(
To
Florizell
.
)
Now
,
my
fair’st
friend
,
I
would
I
had
some
flowers
o’
th’
spring
,
that
might
Become
your
time
of
day
,
(
to
the
Shepherdesses
)
and
yours
,
and
yours
,
That
wear
upon
your
virgin
branches
yet
Your
maidenheads
growing
.
O
Proserpina
,
For
the
flowers
now
that
,
frighted
,
thou
let’st
fall
From
Dis’s
wagon
!
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
Or
Cytherea’s
breath
;
pale
primroses
,
That
die
unmarried
ere
they
can
behold
Bright
Phoebus
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
.
What
,
like
a
corse
?
ACT 4. SC. 4
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
flowers
.
Methinks
I
play
as
I
have
seen
them
do
In
Whitsun
pastorals
.
Sure
this
robe
of
mine
Does
change
my
disposition
.
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
ord’ring
your
affairs
,
To
sing
them
too
.
When
you
do
dance
,
I
wish
you
A
wave
o’
th’
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
.
O
Doricles
,
Your
praises
are
too
large
.
But
that
your
youth
And
the
true
blood
which
peeps
fairly
through
’t
Do
plainly
give
you
out
an
unstained
shepherd
,
With
wisdom
I
might
fear
,
my
Doricles
,
You
wooed
me
the
false
way
.
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
.
I’ll
swear
for
’em
.
,
to
Camillo
This
is
the
prettiest
lowborn
lass
that
ever
Ran
on
the
greensward
.
Nothing
she
does
or
seems
But
smacks
of
something
greater
than
herself
,
Too
noble
for
this
place
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
He
tells
her
something
That
makes
her
blood
look
out
.
Good
sooth
,
she
is
The
queen
of
curds
and
cream
.
,
to
Musicians
Come
on
,
strike
up
.
Mopsa
must
be
your
mistress
?
Marry
,
garlic
To
mend
her
kissing
with
.
Now
,
in
good
time
!
Not
a
word
,
a
word
.
We
stand
upon
our
manners
.
—
Come
,
strike
up
.
Music
begins
.
Here
a
Dance
of
Shepherds
and
Shepherdesses
.
Pray
,
good
shepherd
,
what
fair
swain
is
this
Which
dances
with
your
daughter
?
They
call
him
Doricles
,
and
boasts
himself
To
have
a
worthy
feeding
.
But
I
have
it
Upon
his
own
report
,
and
I
believe
it
.
He
looks
like
sooth
.
He
says
he
loves
my
daughter
.
I
think
so
too
,
for
never
gazed
the
moon
Upon
the
water
as
he’ll
stand
and
read
,
As
’twere
,
my
daughter’s
eyes
.
And
,
to
be
plain
,
I
think
there
is
not
half
a
kiss
to
choose
Who
loves
another
best
.
She
dances
featly
.
So
she
does
anything
,
though
I
report
it
That
should
be
silent
.
If
young
Doricles
Do
light
upon
her
,
she
shall
bring
him
that
Which
he
not
dreams
of
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
O
,
master
,
if
you
did
but
hear
the
peddler
at
the
door
,
you
would
never
dance
again
after
a
tabor
and
pipe
;
no
,
the
bagpipe
could
not
move
you
.
He
ACT 4. SC. 4
sings
several
tunes
faster
than
you’ll
tell
money
.
He
utters
them
as
he
had
eaten
ballads
and
all
men’s
ears
grew
to
his
tunes
.
He
could
never
come
better
.
He
shall
come
in
.
I
love
a
ballad
but
even
too
well
if
it
be
doleful
matter
merrily
set
down
,
or
a
very
pleasant
thing
indeed
and
sung
lamentably
.
He
hath
songs
for
man
or
woman
,
of
all
sizes
.
No
milliner
can
so
fit
his
customers
with
gloves
.
He
has
the
prettiest
love
songs
for
maids
,
so
without
bawdry
,
which
is
strange
,
with
such
delicate
burdens
of
dildos
and
fadings
,
Jump
her
and
thump
her
.
And
where
some
stretch-mouthed
rascal
would
,
as
it
were
,
mean
mischief
and
break
a
foul
gap
into
the
matter
,
he
makes
the
maid
to
answer
Whoop
,
do
me
no
harm
,
good
man
;
puts
him
off
,
slights
him
,
with
Whoop
,
do
me
no
harm
,
good
man
.
This
is
a
brave
fellow
.
Believe
me
,
thou
talkest
of
an
admirable
conceited
fellow
.
Has
he
any
unbraided
wares
?
He
hath
ribbons
of
all
the
colors
i’
th’
rainbow
;
points
more
than
all
the
lawyers
in
Bohemia
can
learnedly
handle
,
though
they
come
to
him
by
th’
gross
;
inkles
,
caddises
,
cambrics
,
lawns
—
why
,
he
sings
’em
over
as
they
were
gods
or
goddesses
.
You
would
think
a
smock
were
a
she-angel
,
he
so
chants
to
the
sleeve-hand
and
the
work
about
the
square
on
’t
.
Prithee
bring
him
in
,
and
let
him
approach
singing
.
Forewarn
him
that
he
use
no
scurrilous
words
in
’s
tunes
.
Servant
exits
.
You
have
of
these
peddlers
that
have
more
in
them
than
you’d
think
,
sister
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
Ay
,
good
brother
,
or
go
about
to
think
.
Enter
Autolycus
,
wearing
a
false
beard
,
singing
.
Lawn
as
white
as
driven
snow
,
Cypress
black
as
e’er
was
crow
,
Gloves
as
sweet
as
damask
roses
,
Masks
for
faces
and
for
noses
,
Bugle
bracelet
,
necklace
amber
,
Perfume
for
a
lady’s
chamber
,
Golden
coifs
and
stomachers
For
my
lads
to
give
their
dears
,
Pins
and
poking-sticks
of
steel
,
What
maids
lack
from
head
to
heel
,
Come
buy
of
me
,
come
.
Come
buy
,
come
buy
.
Buy
,
lads
,
or
else
your
lasses
cry
.
Come
buy
.
If
I
were
not
in
love
with
Mopsa
,
thou
shouldst
take
no
money
of
me
;
but
being
enthralled
as
I
am
,
it
will
also
be
the
bondage
of
certain
ribbons
and
gloves
.
I
was
promised
them
against
the
feast
,
but
they
come
not
too
late
now
.
He
hath
promised
you
more
than
that
,
or
there
be
liars
.
He
hath
paid
you
all
he
promised
you
.
Maybe
he
has
paid
you
more
,
which
will
shame
you
to
give
him
again
.
Is
there
no
manners
left
among
maids
?
Will
they
wear
their
plackets
where
they
should
bear
their
faces
?
Is
there
not
milking
time
,
when
you
are
going
to
bed
,
or
kiln-hole
,
to
whistle
of
these
secrets
,
but
you
must
be
tittle-tattling
before
all
our
guests
?
’Tis
well
they
are
whisp’ring
.
Clamor
your
tongues
,
and
not
a
word
more
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
I
have
done
.
Come
,
you
promised
me
a
tawdry
lace
and
a
pair
of
sweet
gloves
.
Have
I
not
told
thee
how
I
was
cozened
by
the
way
and
lost
all
my
money
?
And
indeed
,
sir
,
there
are
cozeners
abroad
;
therefore
it
behooves
men
to
be
wary
.
Fear
not
thou
,
man
.
Thou
shalt
lose
nothing
here
.
I
hope
so
,
sir
,
for
I
have
about
me
many
parcels
of
charge
.
What
hast
here
?
Ballads
?
Pray
now
,
buy
some
.
I
love
a
ballad
in
print
alife
,
for
then
we
are
sure
they
are
true
.
Here’s
one
to
a
very
doleful
tune
,
how
a
usurer’s
wife
was
brought
to
bed
of
twenty
moneybags
at
a
burden
,
and
how
she
longed
to
eat
adders’
heads
and
toads
carbonadoed
.
Is
it
true
,
think
you
?
Very
true
,
and
but
a
month
old
.
Bless
me
from
marrying
a
usurer
!
Here’s
the
midwife’s
name
to
’t
,
one
Mistress
Taleporter
,
and
five
or
six
honest
wives
that
were
present
.
Why
should
I
carry
lies
abroad
?
,
to
Shepherd’s
Son
Pray
you
now
,
buy
it
.
,
to
Autolycus
Come
on
,
lay
it
by
,
and
let’s
first
see
more
ballads
.
We’ll
buy
the
other
things
anon
.
Here’s
another
ballad
,
of
a
fish
that
appeared
upon
the
coast
on
Wednesday
the
fourscore
of
April
,
forty
thousand
fathom
above
water
,
and
sung
this
ballad
against
the
hard
hearts
of
maids
.
It
was
thought
she
was
a
woman
,
and
was
turned
into
a
cold
fish
for
she
would
not
exchange
flesh
with
one
that
loved
her
.
The
ballad
is
very
pitiful
,
and
as
true
.
Is
it
true
too
,
think
you
?
ACT 4. SC. 4
Five
justices’
hands
at
it
,
and
witnesses
more
than
my
pack
will
hold
.
Lay
it
by
too
.
Another
.
This
is
a
merry
ballad
,
but
a
very
pretty
one
.
Let’s
have
some
merry
ones
.
Why
,
this
is
a
passing
merry
one
and
goes
to
the
tune
of
Two
Maids
Wooing
a
Man
.
There’s
scarce
a
maid
westward
but
she
sings
it
.
’Tis
in
request
,
I
can
tell
you
.
We
can
both
sing
it
.
If
thou
’lt
bear
a
part
,
thou
shalt
hear
;
’tis
in
three
parts
.
We
had
the
tune
on
’t
a
month
ago
.
I
can
bear
my
part
.
You
must
know
’tis
my
occupation
.
Have
at
it
with
you
.
Song
.
Get
you
hence
,
for
I
must
go
Where
it
fits
not
you
to
know
.
Whither
?
O
,
whither
?
Whither
?
It
becomes
thy
oath
full
well
Thou
to
me
thy
secrets
tell
.
Me
too
.
Let
me
go
thither
.
Or
thou
goest
to
th’
grange
or
mill
.
If
to
either
,
thou
dost
ill
.
Neither
.
What
,
neither
?
Neither
.
Thou
hast
sworn
my
love
to
be
.
Thou
hast
sworn
it
more
to
me
.
Then
whither
goest
?
Say
whither
.
We’ll
have
this
song
out
anon
by
ourselves
.
My
father
and
the
gentlemen
are
in
sad
ACT 4. SC. 4
talk
,
and
we’ll
not
trouble
them
.
Come
,
bring
away
thy
pack
after
me
.
—
Wenches
,
I’ll
buy
for
you
both
.
—
Peddler
,
let’s
have
the
first
choice
.
—
Follow
me
,
girls
.
He
exits
with
Mopsa
,
Dorcas
,
Shepherds
and
Shepherdesses
.
And
you
shall
pay
well
for
’em
.
Song
.
Will
you
buy
any
tape
,
Or
lace
for
your
cape
,
My
dainty
duck
,
my
dear-a
?
Any
silk
,
any
thread
,
Any
toys
for
your
head
,
Of
the
new’st
and
fin’st
,
fin’st
wear-a
?
Come
to
the
peddler
.
Money’s
a
meddler
That
doth
utter
all
men’s
ware-a
.
He
exits
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
,
to
Shepherd
Master
,
there
is
three
carters
,
three
shepherds
,
three
neatherds
,
three
swineherds
,
that
have
made
themselves
all
men
of
hair
.
They
call
themselves
saultiers
,
and
they
have
a
dance
which
the
wenches
say
is
a
gallimaufry
of
gambols
,
because
they
are
not
in
’t
,
but
they
themselves
are
o’
th’
mind
,
if
it
be
not
too
rough
for
some
that
know
little
but
bowling
,
it
will
please
plentifully
.
Away
!
We’ll
none
on
’t
.
Here
has
been
too
much
homely
foolery
already
.
—
I
know
,
sir
,
we
weary
you
.
You
weary
those
that
refresh
us
.
Pray
,
let’s
see
these
four
threes
of
herdsmen
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
One
three
of
them
,
by
their
own
report
,
sir
,
hath
danced
before
the
King
,
and
not
the
worst
of
the
three
but
jumps
twelve
foot
and
a
half
by
th’
square
.
Leave
your
prating
.
Since
these
good
men
are
pleased
,
let
them
come
in
—
but
quickly
now
.
Why
,
they
stay
at
door
,
sir
.
He
admits
the
herdsmen
.
Here
a
Dance
of
twelve
herdsmen
,
dressed
as
Satyrs
.
Herdsmen
,
Musicians
,
and
Servants
exit
.
,
to
Shepherd
O
father
,
you’ll
know
more
of
that
hereafter
.
Aside
to
Camillo
.
Is
it
not
too
far
gone
?
’Tis
time
to
part
them
.
He’s
simple
,
and
tells
much
.
To
Florizell
.
How
now
,
fair
shepherd
?
Your
heart
is
full
of
something
that
does
take
Your
mind
from
feasting
.
Sooth
,
when
I
was
young
And
handed
love
,
as
you
do
,
I
was
wont
To
load
my
she
with
knacks
.
I
would
have
ransacked
The
peddler’s
silken
treasury
and
have
poured
it
To
her
acceptance
.
You
have
let
him
go
And
nothing
marted
with
him
.
If
your
lass
Interpretation
should
abuse
and
call
this
Your
lack
of
love
or
bounty
,
you
were
straited
For
a
reply
,
at
least
if
you
make
a
care
Of
happy
holding
her
.
Old
sir
,
I
know
She
prizes
not
such
trifles
as
these
are
.
The
gifts
she
looks
from
me
are
packed
and
locked
Up
in
my
heart
,
which
I
have
given
already
,
But
not
delivered
.
To
Perdita
.
O
,
hear
me
breathe
my
life
Before
this
ancient
sir
,
who
,
it
should
seem
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
Hath
sometime
loved
.
I
take
thy
hand
,
this
hand
As
soft
as
dove’s
down
and
as
white
as
it
,
Or
Ethiopian’s
tooth
,
or
the
fanned
snow
that’s
bolted
By
th’
northern
blasts
twice
o’er
.
What
follows
this
?
—
How
prettily
th’
young
swain
seems
to
wash
The
hand
was
fair
before
.
—
I
have
put
you
out
.
But
to
your
protestation
.
Let
me
hear
What
you
profess
.
Do
,
and
be
witness
to
’t
.
And
this
my
neighbor
too
?
And
he
,
and
more
Than
he
,
and
men
—
the
Earth
earth
,
the
heavens
,
and
all
—
That
were
I
crowned
the
most
imperial
monarch
,
Thereof
most
worthy
,
were
I
the
fairest
youth
That
ever
made
eye
swerve
,
had
force
and
knowledge
More
than
was
ever
man’s
,
I
would
not
prize
them
Without
her
love
;
for
her
employ
them
all
,
Commend
them
and
condemn
them
to
her
service
Or
to
their
own
perdition
.
Fairly
offered
.
This
shows
a
sound
affection
.
But
my
daughter
,
Say
you
the
like
to
him
?
I
cannot
speak
So
well
,
nothing
so
well
,
no
,
nor
mean
better
.
By
th’
pattern
of
mine
own
thoughts
I
cut
out
The
purity
of
his
.
Take
hands
,
a
bargain
.
—
And
,
friends
unknown
,
you
shall
bear
witness
to
’t
:
I
give
my
daughter
to
him
and
will
make
Her
portion
equal
his
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
O
,
that
must
be
I’
th’
virtue
of
your
daughter
.
One
being
dead
,
I
shall
have
more
than
you
can
dream
of
yet
,
Enough
then
for
your
wonder
.
But
come
on
,
Contract
us
fore
these
witnesses
.
Come
,
your
hand
—
And
daughter
,
yours
.
,
To
Florizell
Soft
,
swain
,
awhile
,
beseech
you
.
Have
you
a
father
?
I
have
,
but
what
of
him
?
Knows
he
of
this
?
He
neither
does
nor
shall
.
Methinks
a
father
Is
at
the
nuptial
of
his
son
a
guest
That
best
becomes
the
table
.
Pray
you
once
more
,
Is
not
your
father
grown
incapable
Of
reasonable
affairs
?
Is
he
not
stupid
With
age
and
alt’ring
rheums
?
Can
he
speak
?
Hear
?
Know
man
from
man
?
Dispute
his
own
estate
?
Lies
he
not
bedrid
,
and
again
does
nothing
But
what
he
did
being
childish
?
No
,
good
sir
.
He
has
his
health
and
ampler
strength
indeed
Than
most
have
of
his
age
.
By
my
white
beard
,
You
offer
him
,
if
this
be
so
,
a
wrong
Something
unfilial
.
Reason
my
son
Should
choose
himself
a
wife
,
but
as
good
reason
The
father
,
all
whose
joy
is
nothing
else
But
fair
posterity
,
should
hold
some
counsel
In
such
a
business
.
I
yield
all
this
;
But
for
some
other
reasons
,
my
grave
sir
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
Which
’tis
not
fit
you
know
,
I
not
acquaint
My
father
of
this
business
.
Let
him
know
’t
.
He
shall
not
.
Prithee
let
him
.
No
,
he
must
not
.
Let
him
,
my
son
.
He
shall
not
need
to
grieve
At
knowing
of
thy
choice
.
Come
,
come
,
he
must
not
.
Mark
our
contract
.
,
removing
his
disguise
Mark
your
divorce
,
young
sir
,
Whom
son
I
dare
not
call
.
Thou
art
too
base
To
be
acknowledged
.
Thou
a
scepter’s
heir
That
thus
affects
a
sheep-hook
!
—
Thou
,
old
traitor
,
I
am
sorry
that
by
hanging
thee
I
can
But
shorten
thy
life
one
week
.
—
And
thou
,
fresh
piece
Of
excellent
witchcraft
,
whom
of
force
must
know
The
royal
fool
thou
cop’st
with
—
O
,
my
heart
!
I’ll
have
thy
beauty
scratched
with
briers
and
made
More
homely
than
thy
state
.
—
For
thee
,
fond
boy
,
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’r
than
Deucalion
off
.
Mark
thou
my
words
.
Follow
us
to
the
court
.
To
Shepherd
.
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
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
That
makes
himself
,
but
for
our
honor
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
.
He
exits
.
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
.
To
Florizell
.
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
.
,
to
Shepherd
Why
,
how
now
,
father
?
Speak
ere
thou
diest
.
I
cannot
speak
,
nor
think
,
Nor
dare
to
know
that
which
I
know
.
To
Florizell
.
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
.
To
Perdita
.
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
have
lived
To
die
when
I
desire
.
He
exits
.
,
to
Perdita
Why
look
you
so
upon
me
?
I
am
but
sorry
,
not
afeard
;
delayed
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
But
nothing
altered
.
What
I
was
,
I
am
,
More
straining
on
for
plucking
back
,
not
following
My
leash
unwillingly
.
Gracious
my
lord
,
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
.
I
not
purpose
it
.
I
think
Camillo
?
,
removing
his
disguise
Even
he
,
my
lord
.
,
to
Florizell
How
often
have
I
told
you
’twould
be
thus
?
How
often
said
my
dignity
would
last
But
till
’twere
known
?
It
cannot
fail
but
by
The
violation
of
my
faith
;
and
then
Let
nature
crush
the
sides
o’
th’
Earth
earth
together
And
mar
the
seeds
within
.
Lift
up
thy
looks
.
From
my
succession
wipe
me
,
father
.
I
Am
heir
to
my
affection
.
Be
advised
.
I
am
,
and
by
my
fancy
.
If
my
reason
Will
thereto
be
obedient
,
I
have
reason
.
If
not
,
my
senses
,
better
pleased
with
madness
,
Do
bid
it
welcome
.
This
is
desperate
,
sir
.
So
call
it
;
but
it
does
fulfill
my
vow
.
I
needs
must
think
it
honesty
.
Camillo
,
Not
for
Bohemia
nor
the
pomp
that
may
Be
thereat
gleaned
,
for
all
the
sun
sees
or
The
close
earth
wombs
or
the
profound
seas
hides
ACT 4. SC. 4
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
honored
friend
,
When
he
shall
miss
me
,
as
in
faith
I
mean
not
To
see
him
anymore
,
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
who
here
I
cannot
hold
on
shore
.
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
.
O
my
lord
,
I
would
your
spirit
were
easier
for
advice
Or
stronger
for
your
need
.
Hark
,
Perdita
.
—
I’ll
hear
you
by
and
by
.
Florizell
and
Perdita
walk
aside
.
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
honor
,
Purchase
the
sight
again
of
dear
Sicilia
And
that
unhappy
king
,
my
master
,
whom
I
so
much
thirst
to
see
.
,
coming
forward
Now
,
good
Camillo
,
I
am
so
fraught
with
curious
business
that
I
leave
out
ceremony
.
Sir
,
I
think
You
have
heard
of
my
poor
services
i’
th’
love
That
I
have
borne
your
father
?
Very
nobly
Have
you
deserved
.
It
is
my
father’s
music
ACT 4. SC. 4
To
speak
your
deeds
,
not
little
of
his
care
To
have
them
recompensed
as
thought
on
.
Well
,
my
lord
,
If
you
may
please
to
think
I
love
the
King
And
,
through
him
,
what’s
nearest
to
him
,
which
is
Your
gracious
self
,
embrace
but
my
direction
,
If
your
more
ponderous
and
settled
project
May
suffer
alteration
.
On
mine
honor
,
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
—
marry
her
,
And
with
my
best
endeavors
in
your
absence
,
Your
discontenting
father
strive
to
qualify
And
bring
him
up
to
liking
.
How
,
Camillo
,
May
this
,
almost
a
miracle
,
be
done
,
That
I
may
call
thee
something
more
than
man
,
And
after
that
trust
to
thee
?
Have
you
thought
on
A
place
whereto
you’ll
go
?
Not
any
yet
.
But
as
th’
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
.
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
ACT 4. SC. 4
Leontes
opening
his
free
arms
and
weeping
His
welcomes
forth
,
asks
thee
,
the
son
,
forgiveness
,
As
’twere
i’
th’
father’s
person
;
kisses
the
hands
Of
your
fresh
princess
;
o’er
and
o’er
divides
him
’Twixt
his
unkindness
and
his
kindness
.
Th’
one
He
chides
to
hell
and
bids
the
other
grow
Faster
than
thought
or
time
.
Worthy
Camillo
,
What
color
for
my
visitation
shall
I
Hold
up
before
him
?
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
,
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
.
I
am
bound
to
you
.
There
is
some
sap
in
this
.
A
course
more
promising
Than
a
wild
dedication
of
yourselves
To
unpathed
waters
,
undreamed
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
.
One
of
these
is
true
.
I
think
affliction
may
subdue
the
cheek
But
not
take
in
the
mind
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
Yea
,
say
you
so
?
There
shall
not
at
your
father’s
house
these
seven
years
Be
born
another
such
.
My
good
Camillo
,
She’s
as
forward
of
her
breeding
as
she
is
I’
th’
rear
our
birth
.
I
cannot
say
’tis
pity
She
lacks
instructions
,
for
she
seems
a
mistress
To
most
that
teach
.
Your
pardon
,
sir
.
For
this
I’ll
blush
you
thanks
.
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
furnished
like
Bohemia’s
son
,
Nor
shall
appear
in
Sicilia
.
My
lord
,
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
step
aside
and
talk
.
Enter
Autolycus
.
Ha
,
ha
,
what
a
fool
Honesty
honesty
is
!
And
Trust
trust
,
his
sworn
brother
,
a
very
simple
gentleman
!
I
have
sold
all
my
trumpery
.
Not
a
counterfeit
stone
,
not
a
ribbon
,
glass
,
pomander
,
brooch
,
table
book
,
ballad
,
knife
,
tape
,
glove
,
shoe
tie
,
bracelet
,
horn
ring
,
to
keep
my
pack
from
fasting
.
They
throng
who
should
buy
first
,
as
if
my
trinkets
had
been
hallowed
and
brought
a
benediction
to
the
buyer
;
by
which
means
I
saw
whose
purse
was
best
in
picture
,
and
ACT 4. SC. 4
what
I
saw
,
to
my
good
use
I
remembered
.
My
clown
,
who
wants
but
something
to
be
a
reasonable
man
,
grew
so
in
love
with
the
wenches’
song
that
he
would
not
stir
his
pettitoes
till
he
had
both
tune
and
words
,
which
so
drew
the
rest
of
the
herd
to
me
that
all
their
other
senses
stuck
in
ears
.
You
might
have
pinched
a
placket
,
it
was
senseless
;
’twas
nothing
to
geld
a
codpiece
of
a
purse
.
I
could
have
filed
keys
off
that
hung
in
chains
.
No
hearing
,
no
feeling
,
but
my
sir’s
song
and
admiring
the
nothing
of
it
.
So
that
in
this
time
of
lethargy
I
picked
and
cut
most
of
their
festival
purses
.
And
had
not
the
old
man
come
in
with
a
hubbub
against
his
daughter
and
the
King’s
son
,
and
scared
my
choughs
from
the
chaff
,
I
had
not
left
a
purse
alive
in
the
whole
army
.
Camillo
,
Florizell
,
and
Perdita
come
forward
.
,
to
Florizell
Nay
,
but
my
letters
,
by
this
means
being
there
So
soon
as
you
arrive
,
shall
clear
that
doubt
.
And
those
that
you’ll
procure
from
King
Leontes
—
Shall
satisfy
your
father
.
Happy
be
you
!
All
that
you
speak
shows
fair
.
,
noticing
Autolycus
Who
have
we
here
?
We’ll
make
an
instrument
of
this
,
omit
Nothing
may
give
us
aid
.
,
aside
If
they
have
overheard
me
now
,
why
,
hanging
.
How
now
,
good
fellow
?
Why
shak’st
thou
so
?
Fear
not
,
man
.
Here’s
no
harm
intended
to
thee
.
I
am
a
poor
fellow
,
sir
.
Why
,
be
so
still
.
Here’s
nobody
will
steal
that
from
thee
.
Yet
for
the
outside
of
thy
poverty
we
ACT 4. SC. 4
must
make
an
exchange
.
Therefore
discase
thee
instantly
—
thou
must
think
there’s
a
necessity
in
’t
—
and
change
garments
with
this
gentleman
.
Though
the
pennyworth
on
his
side
be
the
worst
,
yet
hold
thee
,
there’s
some
boot
.
He
hands
Autolycus
money
.
I
am
a
poor
fellow
,
sir
.
Aside
.
I
know
you
well
enough
.
Nay
,
prithee
,
dispatch
.
The
gentleman
is
half
flayed
already
.
Are
you
in
earnest
,
sir
?
Aside
.
I
smell
the
trick
on
’t
.
Dispatch
,
I
prithee
.
Indeed
,
I
have
had
earnest
,
but
I
cannot
with
conscience
take
it
.
Unbuckle
,
unbuckle
.
Florizell
and
Autolycus
exchange
garments
.
Fortunate
mistress
—
let
my
prophecy
Come
home
to
you
!
—
you
must
retire
yourself
Into
some
covert
.
Take
your
sweetheart’s
hat
And
pluck
it
o’er
your
brows
,
muffle
your
face
,
Dismantle
you
,
and
,
as
you
can
,
disliken
The
truth
of
your
own
seeming
,
that
you
may
—
For
I
do
fear
eyes
over
—
to
shipboard
Get
undescried
.
I
see
the
play
so
lies
That
I
must
bear
a
part
.
No
remedy
.
—
Have
you
done
there
?
Should
I
now
meet
my
father
,
He
would
not
call
me
son
.
Nay
,
you
shall
have
no
hat
.
He
gives
Florizell’s
hat
to
Perdita
.
Come
,
lady
,
come
.
—
Farewell
,
my
friend
.
Adieu
,
sir
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
O
Perdita
,
what
have
we
twain
forgot
?
Pray
you
,
a
word
.
They
talk
aside
.
,
aside
What
I
do
next
shall
be
to
tell
the
King
Of
this
escape
,
and
whither
they
are
bound
;
Wherein
my
hope
is
I
shall
so
prevail
To
force
him
after
,
in
whose
company
I
shall
re-view
Sicilia
,
for
whose
sight
I
have
a
woman’s
longing
.
Fortune
speed
us
!
—
Thus
we
set
on
,
Camillo
,
to
th’
seaside
.
The
swifter
speed
the
better
.
Camillo
,
Florizell
,
and
Perdita
exit
.
I
understand
the
business
;
I
hear
it
.
To
have
an
open
ear
,
a
quick
eye
,
and
a
nimble
hand
is
necessary
for
a
cutpurse
;
a
good
nose
is
requisite
also
,
to
smell
out
work
for
th’
other
senses
.
I
see
this
is
the
time
that
the
unjust
man
doth
thrive
.
What
an
exchange
had
this
been
without
boot
!
What
a
boot
is
here
with
this
exchange
!
Sure
the
gods
do
this
year
connive
at
us
,
and
we
may
do
anything
extempore
.
The
Prince
himself
is
about
a
piece
of
iniquity
,
stealing
away
from
his
father
with
his
clog
at
his
heels
.
If
I
thought
it
were
a
piece
of
honesty
to
acquaint
the
King
withal
,
I
would
not
do
’t
.
I
hold
it
the
more
knavery
to
conceal
it
,
and
therein
am
I
constant
to
my
profession
.
Enter
Shepherd’s
Son
and
Shepherd
,
carrying
the
bundle
and
the
box
.
Aside
,
aside
!
Here
is
more
matter
for
a
hot
brain
.
Every
lane’s
end
,
every
shop
,
church
,
session
,
hanging
,
yields
a
careful
man
work
.
He
moves
aside
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
,
to
Shepherd
See
,
see
,
what
a
man
you
are
now
!
There
is
no
other
way
but
to
tell
the
King
she’s
a
changeling
and
none
of
your
flesh
and
blood
.
Nay
,
but
hear
me
.
Nay
,
but
hear
me
!
Go
to
,
then
.
She
being
none
of
your
flesh
and
blood
,
your
flesh
and
blood
has
not
offended
the
King
,
and
so
your
flesh
and
blood
is
not
to
be
punished
by
him
.
Show
those
things
you
found
about
her
,
those
secret
things
,
all
but
what
she
has
with
her
.
This
being
done
,
let
the
law
go
whistle
,
I
warrant
you
.
I
will
tell
the
King
all
,
every
word
,
yea
,
and
his
son’s
pranks
too
;
who
,
I
may
say
,
is
no
honest
man
,
neither
to
his
father
nor
to
me
,
to
go
about
to
make
me
the
King’s
brother-in-law
.
Indeed
,
brother-in-law
was
the
farthest
off
you
could
have
been
to
him
,
and
then
your
blood
had
been
the
dearer
by
I
know
how
much
an
ounce
.
,
aside
Very
wisely
,
puppies
.
Well
,
let
us
to
the
King
.
There
is
that
in
this
fardel
will
make
him
scratch
his
beard
.
,
aside
I
know
not
what
impediment
this
complaint
may
be
to
the
flight
of
my
master
.
Pray
heartily
he
be
at’
palace
.
,
aside
Though
I
am
not
naturally
honest
,
I
am
so
sometimes
by
chance
.
Let
me
pocket
up
my
peddler’s
excrement
.
(
He
removes
his
false
beard
.
)
How
now
,
rustics
,
whither
are
you
bound
?
To
th’
palace
,
an
it
like
your
Worship
.
Your
affairs
there
?
What
,
with
whom
,
the
condition
of
that
fardel
,
the
place
of
your
dwelling
,
ACT 4. SC. 4
your
names
,
your
ages
,
of
what
having
,
breeding
,
and
anything
that
is
fitting
to
be
known
,
discover
!
We
are
but
plain
fellows
,
sir
.
A
lie
;
you
are
rough
and
hairy
.
Let
me
have
no
lying
.
It
becomes
none
but
tradesmen
,
and
they
often
give
us
soldiers
the
lie
,
but
we
pay
them
for
it
with
stamped
coin
,
not
stabbing
steel
;
therefore
they
do
not
give
us
the
lie
.
Your
Worship
had
like
to
have
given
us
one
,
if
you
had
not
taken
yourself
with
the
manner
.
Are
you
a
courtier
,
an
’t
like
you
,
sir
?
Whether
it
like
me
or
no
,
I
am
a
courtier
.
Seest
thou
not
the
air
of
the
court
in
these
enfoldings
?
Hath
not
my
gait
in
it
the
measure
of
the
court
?
Receives
not
thy
nose
court
odor
from
me
?
Reflect
I
not
on
thy
baseness
court
contempt
?
Think’st
thou
,
for
that
I
insinuate
and
toze
from
thee
thy
business
,
I
am
therefore
no
courtier
?
I
am
courtier
cap-a-pie
;
and
one
that
will
either
push
on
or
pluck
back
thy
business
there
.
Whereupon
I
command
thee
to
open
thy
affair
.
My
business
,
sir
,
is
to
the
King
.
What
advocate
hast
thou
to
him
?
I
know
not
,
an
’t
like
you
.
,
aside
to
Shepherd
Advocate
’s
the
court
word
for
a
pheasant
.
Say
you
have
none
.
,
to
Autolycus
None
,
sir
.
I
have
no
pheasant
,
cock
nor
hen
.
How
blest
are
we
that
are
not
simple
men
!
Yet
Nature
might
have
made
me
as
these
are
.
Therefore
I
will
not
disdain
.
,
to
Shepherd
This
cannot
be
but
a
great
courtier
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
His
garments
are
rich
,
but
he
wears
them
not
handsomely
.
He
seems
to
be
the
more
noble
in
being
fantastical
.
A
great
man
,
I’ll
warrant
.
I
know
by
the
picking
on
’s
teeth
.
The
fardel
there
.
What’s
i’
th’
fardel
?
Wherefore
that
box
?
Sir
,
there
lies
such
secrets
in
this
fardel
and
box
which
none
must
know
but
the
King
,
and
which
he
shall
know
within
this
hour
if
I
may
come
to
th’
speech
of
him
.
Age
,
thou
hast
lost
thy
labor
.
Why
,
sir
?
The
King
is
not
at
the
palace
.
He
is
gone
aboard
a
new
ship
to
purge
melancholy
and
air
himself
,
for
,
if
thou
beest
capable
of
things
serious
,
thou
must
know
the
King
is
full
of
grief
.
So
’tis
said
,
sir
—
about
his
son
,
that
should
have
married
a
shepherd’s
daughter
.
If
that
shepherd
be
not
in
handfast
,
let
him
fly
.
The
curses
he
shall
have
,
the
tortures
he
shall
feel
,
will
break
the
back
of
man
,
the
heart
of
monster
.
Think
you
so
,
sir
?
Not
he
alone
shall
suffer
what
wit
can
make
heavy
and
vengeance
bitter
;
but
those
that
are
germane
to
him
,
though
removed
fifty
times
,
shall
all
come
under
the
hangman
—
which
,
though
it
be
great
pity
,
yet
it
is
necessary
.
An
old
sheep-whistling
rogue
,
a
ram
tender
,
to
offer
to
have
his
daughter
come
into
grace
!
Some
say
he
shall
be
stoned
,
but
that
death
is
too
soft
for
him
,
say
I
.
Draw
our
throne
into
a
sheepcote
?
All
deaths
are
too
few
,
the
sharpest
too
easy
.
Has
the
old
man
e’er
a
son
,
sir
,
do
you
hear
,
an
’t
like
you
,
sir
?
ACT 4. SC. 4
He
has
a
son
,
who
shall
be
flayed
alive
;
then
’nointed
over
with
honey
,
set
on
the
head
of
a
wasps’-nest
;
then
stand
till
he
be
three-quarters
and
a
dram
dead
,
then
recovered
again
with
aqua
vitae
or
some
other
hot
infusion
;
then
,
raw
as
he
is
,
and
in
the
hottest
day
prognostication
proclaims
,
shall
he
be
set
against
a
brick
wall
,
the
sun
looking
with
a
southward
eye
upon
him
,
where
he
is
to
behold
him
with
flies
blown
to
death
.
But
what
talk
we
of
these
traitorly
rascals
,
whose
miseries
are
to
be
smiled
at
,
their
offenses
being
so
capital
?
Tell
me
—
for
you
seem
to
be
honest
plain
men
—
what
you
have
to
the
King
.
Being
something
gently
considered
,
I’ll
bring
you
where
he
is
aboard
,
tender
your
persons
to
his
presence
,
whisper
him
in
your
behalfs
;
and
if
it
be
in
man
besides
the
King
to
effect
your
suits
,
here
is
man
shall
do
it
.
,
to
Shepherd
He
seems
to
be
of
great
authority
.
Close
with
him
,
give
him
gold
;
and
though
authority
be
a
stubborn
bear
,
yet
he
is
oft
led
by
the
nose
with
gold
.
Show
the
inside
of
your
purse
to
the
outside
of
his
hand
,
and
no
more
ado
.
Remember
:
stoned
,
and
flayed
alive
.
,
to
Autolycus
An
’t
please
you
,
sir
,
to
undertake
the
business
for
us
,
here
is
that
gold
I
have
.
I’ll
make
it
as
much
more
,
and
leave
this
young
man
in
pawn
till
I
bring
it
you
.
After
I
have
done
what
I
promised
?
Ay
,
sir
.
Well
,
give
me
the
moiety
.
Shepherd
hands
him
money
.
Are
you
a
party
in
this
business
?
In
some
sort
,
sir
;
but
though
my
case
be
a
pitiful
one
,
I
hope
I
shall
not
be
flayed
out
of
it
.
O
,
that’s
the
case
of
the
shepherd’s
son
!
Hang
him
,
he’ll
be
made
an
example
.
,
to
Shepherd
Comfort
,
good
comfort
.
ACT 4. SC. 4
We
must
to
the
King
,
and
show
our
strange
sights
.
He
must
know
’tis
none
of
your
daughter
nor
my
sister
.
We
are
gone
else
.
—
Sir
,
I
will
give
you
as
much
as
this
old
man
does
when
the
business
is
performed
,
and
remain
,
as
he
says
,
your
pawn
till
it
be
brought
you
.
I
will
trust
you
.
Walk
before
toward
the
seaside
.
Go
on
the
right
hand
.
I
will
but
look
upon
the
hedge
,
and
follow
you
.
,
to
Shepherd
We
are
blessed
in
this
man
,
as
I
may
say
,
even
blessed
.
Let’s
before
,
as
he
bids
us
.
He
was
provided
to
do
us
good
.
Shepherd
and
his
son
exit
.
If
I
had
a
mind
to
be
honest
,
I
see
Fortune
would
not
suffer
me
.
She
drops
booties
in
my
mouth
.
I
am
courted
now
with
a
double
occasion
:
gold
,
and
a
means
to
do
the
Prince
my
master
good
;
which
who
knows
how
that
may
turn
back
to
my
advancement
?
I
will
bring
these
two
moles
,
these
blind
ones
,
aboard
him
.
If
he
think
it
fit
to
shore
them
again
and
that
the
complaint
they
have
to
the
King
concerns
him
nothing
,
let
him
call
me
rogue
for
being
so
far
officious
,
for
I
am
proof
against
that
title
and
what
shame
else
belongs
to
’t
.
To
him
will
I
present
them
.
There
may
be
matter
in
it
.
He
exits
.
ACT
5
Scene
1
Enter
Leontes
,
Cleomenes
,
Dion
,
Paulina
,
and
Servants
.
Sir
,
you
have
done
enough
,
and
have
performed
A
saintlike
sorrow
.
No
fault
could
you
make
Which
you
have
not
redeemed
—
indeed
,
paid
down
More
penitence
than
done
trespass
.
At
the
last
,
Do
as
the
heavens
have
done
:
forget
your
evil
;
With
them
forgive
yourself
.
Whilst
I
remember
Her
and
her
virtues
,
I
cannot
forget
My
blemishes
in
them
,
and
so
still
think
of
The
wrong
I
did
myself
,
which
was
so
much
That
heirless
it
hath
made
my
kingdom
and
Destroyed
the
sweet’st
companion
that
e’er
man
Bred
his
hopes
out
of
.
True
,
too
true
,
my
lord
.
If
one
by
one
you
wedded
all
the
world
,
Or
from
the
all
that
are
took
something
good
To
make
a
perfect
woman
,
she
you
killed
Would
be
unparalleled
.
I
think
so
.
Killed
?
She
I
killed
?
I
did
so
,
but
thou
strik’st
me
Sorely
to
say
I
did
.
It
is
as
bitter
ACT 5. SC. 1
Upon
thy
tongue
as
in
my
thought
.
Now
,
good
now
,
Say
so
but
seldom
.
Not
at
all
,
good
lady
.
You
might
have
spoken
a
thousand
things
that
would
Have
done
the
time
more
benefit
and
graced
Your
kindness
better
.
You
are
one
of
those
Would
have
him
wed
again
.
If
you
would
not
so
,
You
pity
not
the
state
nor
the
remembrance
Of
his
most
sovereign
name
,
consider
little
What
dangers
by
his
Highness’
fail
of
issue
May
drop
upon
his
kingdom
and
devour
Incertain
lookers-on
.
What
were
more
holy
Than
to
rejoice
the
former
queen
is
well
?
What
holier
than
,
for
royalty’s
repair
,
For
present
comfort
,
and
for
future
good
,
To
bless
the
bed
of
majesty
again
With
a
sweet
fellow
to
’t
?
There
is
none
worthy
,
Respecting
her
that’s
gone
.
Besides
,
the
gods
Will
have
fulfilled
their
secret
purposes
.
For
has
not
the
divine
Apollo
said
,
Is
’t
not
the
tenor
of
his
oracle
,
That
King
Leontes
shall
not
have
an
heir
Till
his
lost
child
be
found
?
Which
that
it
shall
Is
all
as
monstrous
to
our
human
reason
As
my
Antigonus
to
break
his
grave
And
come
again
to
me
—
who
,
on
my
life
,
Did
perish
with
the
infant
.
’Tis
your
counsel
My
lord
should
to
the
heavens
be
contrary
,
Oppose
against
their
wills
.
Care
not
for
issue
.
The
crown
will
find
an
heir
.
Great
Alexander
Left
his
to
th’
worthiest
;
so
his
successor
Was
like
to
be
the
best
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Good
Paulina
,
Who
hast
the
memory
of
Hermione
,
I
know
,
in
honor
,
O
,
that
ever
I
Had
squared
me
to
thy
counsel
!
Then
even
now
I
might
have
looked
upon
my
queen’s
full
eyes
,
Have
taken
treasure
from
her
lips
—
And
left
them
More
rich
for
what
they
yielded
.
Thou
speak’st
truth
.
No
more
such
wives
,
therefore
no
wife
.
One
worse
,
And
better
used
,
would
make
her
sainted
spirit
Again
possess
her
corpse
,
and
on
this
stage
,
Where
we
offenders
now
appear
,
soul-vexed
,
And
begin
Why
to
me
?
Had
she
such
power
,
She
had
just
cause
.
She
had
,
and
would
incense
me
To
murder
her
I
married
.
I
should
so
.
Were
I
the
ghost
that
walked
,
I’d
bid
you
mark
Her
eye
,
and
tell
me
for
what
dull
part
in
’t
You
chose
her
.
Then
I’d
shriek
,
that
even
your
ears
Should
rift
to
hear
me
,
and
the
words
that
followed
Should
be
Remember
mine
.
Stars
,
stars
,
And
all
eyes
else
dead
coals
!
Fear
thou
no
wife
;
I’ll
have
no
wife
,
Paulina
.
Will
you
swear
Never
to
marry
but
by
my
free
leave
?
Never
,
Paulina
,
so
be
blest
my
spirit
.
Then
,
good
my
lords
,
bear
witness
to
his
oath
.
You
tempt
him
over-much
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
Unless
another
As
like
Hermione
as
is
her
picture
Affront
his
eye
.
Good
madam
—
I
have
done
.
Yet
if
my
lord
will
marry
—
if
you
will
,
sir
,
No
remedy
but
you
will
—
give
me
the
office
To
choose
you
a
queen
.
She
shall
not
be
so
young
As
was
your
former
,
but
she
shall
be
such
As
,
walked
your
first
queen’s
ghost
,
it
should
take
joy
To
see
her
in
your
arms
.
My
true
Paulina
,
We
shall
not
marry
till
thou
bid’st
us
.
That
Shall
be
when
your
first
queen’s
again
in
breath
,
Never
till
then
.
Enter
a
Servant
.
One
that
gives
out
himself
Prince
Florizell
,
Son
of
Polixenes
,
with
his
princess
—
she
The
fairest
I
have
yet
beheld
—
desires
access
To
your
high
presence
.
What
with
him
?
He
comes
not
Like
to
his
father’s
greatness
.
His
approach
,
So
out
of
circumstance
and
sudden
,
tells
us
’Tis
not
a
visitation
framed
,
but
forced
By
need
and
accident
.
What
train
?
But
few
,
And
those
but
mean
.
His
princess
,
say
you
,
with
him
?
Ay
,
the
most
peerless
piece
of
earth
,
I
think
,
That
e’er
the
sun
shone
bright
on
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
O
Hermione
,
As
every
present
time
doth
boast
itself
Above
a
better
gone
,
so
must
thy
grave
Give
way
to
what’s
seen
now
.
To
Servant
.
Sir
,
you
yourself
Have
said
and
writ
so
—
but
your
writing
now
Is
colder
than
that
theme
—
she
had
not
been
Nor
was
not
to
be
equalled
.
Thus
your
verse
Flowed
with
her
beauty
once
.
’Tis
shrewdly
ebbed
To
say
you
have
seen
a
better
.
Pardon
,
madam
.
The
one
I
have
almost
forgot
—
your
pardon
;
The
other
,
when
she
has
obtained
your
eye
,
Will
have
your
tongue
too
.
This
is
a
creature
,
Would
she
begin
a
sect
,
might
quench
the
zeal
Of
all
professors
else
,
make
proselytes
Of
who
she
but
bid
follow
.
How
,
not
women
?
Women
will
love
her
that
she
is
a
woman
More
worth
than
any
man
;
men
,
that
she
is
The
rarest
of
all
women
.
Go
,
Cleomenes
.
Yourself
,
assisted
with
your
honored
friends
,
Bring
them
to
our
embracement
.
Cleomenes
and
others
exit
.
Still
,
’tis
strange
He
thus
should
steal
upon
us
.
Had
our
prince
,
Jewel
of
children
,
seen
this
hour
,
he
had
paired
Well
with
this
lord
.
There
was
not
full
a
month
Between
their
births
.
Prithee
,
no
more
;
cease
.
Thou
know’st
He
dies
to
me
again
when
talked
of
.
Sure
,
When
I
shall
see
this
gentleman
,
thy
speeches
ACT 5. SC. 1
Will
bring
me
to
consider
that
which
may
Unfurnish
me
of
reason
.
They
are
come
.
Enter
Florizell
,
Perdita
,
Cleomenes
,
and
others
.
Your
mother
was
most
true
to
wedlock
,
prince
,
For
she
did
print
your
royal
father
off
,
Conceiving
you
.
Were
I
but
twenty-one
,
Your
father’s
image
is
so
hit
in
you
,
His
very
air
,
that
I
should
call
you
brother
,
As
I
did
him
,
and
speak
of
something
wildly
By
us
performed
before
.
Most
dearly
welcome
,
And
your
fair
princess
—
goddess
!
O
,
alas
,
I
lost
a
couple
that
’twixt
heaven
and
Earth
earth
Might
thus
have
stood
,
begetting
wonder
,
as
You
,
gracious
couple
,
do
.
And
then
I
lost
—
All
mine
own
folly
—
the
society
,
Amity
too
,
of
your
brave
father
,
whom
,
Though
bearing
misery
,
I
desire
my
life
Once
more
to
look
on
him
.
By
his
command
Have
I
here
touched
Sicilia
,
and
from
him
Give
you
all
greetings
that
a
king
,
at
friend
,
Can
send
his
brother
.
And
but
infirmity
,
Which
waits
upon
worn
times
,
hath
something
seized
His
wished
ability
,
he
had
himself
The
lands
and
waters
’twixt
your
throne
and
his
Measured
to
look
upon
you
,
whom
he
loves
—
He
bade
me
say
so
—
more
than
all
the
scepters
And
those
that
bear
them
living
.
O
my
brother
,
Good
gentleman
,
the
wrongs
I
have
done
thee
stir
Afresh
within
me
,
and
these
thy
offices
,
So
rarely
kind
,
are
as
interpreters
Of
my
behindhand
slackness
.
Welcome
hither
,
As
is
the
spring
to
th’
earth
.
And
hath
he
too
ACT 5. SC. 1
Exposed
this
paragon
to
th’
fearful
usage
,
At
least
ungentle
,
of
the
dreadful
Neptune
,
To
greet
a
man
not
worth
her
pains
,
much
less
Th’
adventure
of
her
person
?
Good
my
lord
,
She
came
from
Libya
.
Where
the
warlike
Smalus
,
That
noble
honored
lord
,
is
feared
and
loved
?
Most
royal
sir
,
from
thence
,
from
him
,
whose
daughter
His
tears
proclaimed
his
,
parting
with
her
.
Thence
,
A
prosperous
south
wind
friendly
,
we
have
crossed
To
execute
the
charge
my
father
gave
me
For
visiting
your
Highness
.
My
best
train
I
have
from
your
Sicilian
shores
dismissed
,
Who
for
Bohemia
bend
,
to
signify
Not
only
my
success
in
Libya
,
sir
,
But
my
arrival
and
my
wife’s
in
safety
Here
where
we
are
.
The
blessèd
gods
Purge
all
infection
from
our
air
whilst
you
Do
climate
here
!
You
have
a
holy
father
,
A
graceful
gentleman
,
against
whose
person
,
So
sacred
as
it
is
,
I
have
done
sin
,
For
which
the
heavens
,
taking
angry
note
,
Have
left
me
issueless
.
And
your
father’s
blest
,
As
he
from
heaven
merits
it
,
with
you
,
Worthy
his
goodness
.
What
might
I
have
been
Might
I
a
son
and
daughter
now
have
looked
on
,
Such
goodly
things
as
you
?
Enter
a
Lord
.
Most
noble
sir
,
That
which
I
shall
report
will
bear
no
credit
,
ACT 5. SC. 1
Were
not
the
proof
so
nigh
.
Please
you
,
great
sir
,
Bohemia
greets
you
from
himself
by
me
,
Desires
you
to
attach
his
son
,
who
has
—
His
dignity
and
duty
both
cast
off
—
Fled
from
his
father
,
from
his
hopes
,
and
with
A
shepherd’s
daughter
.
Where’s
Bohemia
?
Speak
.
Here
in
your
city
.
I
now
came
from
him
.
I
speak
amazedly
,
and
it
becomes
My
marvel
and
my
message
.
To
your
court
Whiles
he
was
hast’ning
—
in
the
chase
,
it
seems
,
Of
this
fair
couple
—
meets
he
on
the
way
The
father
of
this
seeming
lady
and
Her
brother
,
having
both
their
country
quitted
With
this
young
prince
.
Camillo
has
betrayed
me
,
Whose
honor
and
whose
honesty
till
now
Endured
all
weathers
.
Lay
’t
so
to
his
charge
.
He’s
with
the
King
your
father
.
Who
?
Camillo
?
Camillo
,
sir
.
I
spake
with
him
,
who
now
Has
these
poor
men
in
question
.
Never
saw
I
Wretches
so
quake
.
They
kneel
,
they
kiss
the
earth
,
Forswear
themselves
as
often
as
they
speak
.
Bohemia
stops
his
ears
and
threatens
them
With
divers
deaths
in
death
.
O
my
poor
father
!
The
heaven
sets
spies
upon
us
,
will
not
have
Our
contract
celebrated
.
You
are
married
?
We
are
not
,
sir
,
nor
are
we
like
to
be
.
ACT 5. SC. 1
The
stars
,
I
see
,
will
kiss
the
valleys
first
.
The
odds
for
high
and
low’s
alike
.
My
lord
,
Is
this
the
daughter
of
a
king
?
She
is
When
once
she
is
my
wife
.
That
once
,
I
see
,
by
your
good
father’s
speed
Will
come
on
very
slowly
.
I
am
sorry
,
Most
sorry
,
you
have
broken
from
his
liking
,
Where
you
were
tied
in
duty
,
and
as
sorry
Your
choice
is
not
so
rich
in
worth
as
beauty
,
That
you
might
well
enjoy
her
.
,
to
Perdita
Dear
,
look
up
.
Though
Fortune
,
visible
an
enemy
,
Should
chase
us
with
my
father
,
power
no
jot
Hath
she
to
change
our
loves
.
—
Beseech
you
,
sir
,
Remember
since
you
owed
no
more
to
time
Than
I
do
now
.
With
thought
of
such
affections
,
Step
forth
mine
advocate
.
At
your
request
,
My
father
will
grant
precious
things
as
trifles
.
Would
he
do
so
,
I’d
beg
your
precious
mistress
,
Which
he
counts
but
a
trifle
.
Sir
,
my
liege
,
Your
eye
hath
too
much
youth
in
’t
.
Not
a
month
’Fore
your
queen
died
,
she
was
more
worth
such
gazes
Than
what
you
look
on
now
.
I
thought
of
her
Even
in
these
looks
I
made
.
To
Florizell
.
But
your
petition
Is
yet
unanswered
.
I
will
to
your
father
.
Your
honor
not
o’erthrown
by
your
desires
,
I
am
friend
to
them
and
you
.
Upon
which
errand
ACT 5. SC. 2
I
now
go
toward
him
.
Therefore
follow
me
,
And
mark
what
way
I
make
.
Come
,
good
my
lord
.
They
exit
.
Scene
2
Enter
Autolycus
and
a
Gentleman
.
Beseech
you
,
sir
,
were
you
present
at
this
relation
?
I
was
by
at
the
opening
of
the
fardel
,
heard
the
old
shepherd
deliver
the
manner
how
he
found
it
,
whereupon
,
after
a
little
amazedness
,
we
were
all
commanded
out
of
the
chamber
.
Only
this
,
methought
,
I
heard
the
shepherd
say
:
he
found
the
child
.
I
would
most
gladly
know
the
issue
of
it
.
I
make
a
broken
delivery
of
the
business
,
but
the
changes
I
perceived
in
the
King
and
Camillo
were
very
notes
of
admiration
.
They
seemed
almost
,
with
staring
on
one
another
,
to
tear
the
cases
of
their
eyes
.
There
was
speech
in
their
dumbness
,
language
in
their
very
gesture
.
They
looked
as
they
had
heard
of
a
world
ransomed
,
or
one
destroyed
.
A
notable
passion
of
wonder
appeared
in
them
,
but
the
wisest
beholder
that
knew
no
more
but
seeing
could
not
say
if
th’
importance
were
joy
or
sorrow
;
but
in
the
extremity
of
the
one
it
must
needs
be
.
Enter
another
Gentleman
.
Here
comes
a
gentleman
that
happily
knows
more
.
—
The
news
,
Rogero
?
Nothing
but
bonfires
.
The
oracle
is
fulfilled
:
the
King’s
daughter
is
found
!
Such
a
ACT 5. SC. 2
deal
of
wonder
is
broken
out
within
this
hour
that
ballad
makers
cannot
be
able
to
express
it
.
Enter
another
Gentleman
.
Here
comes
the
Lady
Paulina’s
steward
.
He
can
deliver
you
more
.
—
How
goes
it
now
,
sir
?
This
news
which
is
called
true
is
so
like
an
old
tale
that
the
verity
of
it
is
in
strong
suspicion
.
Has
the
King
found
his
heir
?
Most
true
,
if
ever
truth
were
pregnant
by
circumstance
.
That
which
you
hear
you’ll
swear
you
see
,
there
is
such
unity
in
the
proofs
.
The
mantle
of
Queen
Hermione’s
,
her
jewel
about
the
neck
of
it
,
the
letters
of
Antigonus
found
with
it
,
which
they
know
to
be
his
character
,
the
majesty
of
the
creature
in
resemblance
of
the
mother
,
the
affection
of
nobleness
which
nature
shows
above
her
breeding
,
and
many
other
evidences
proclaim
her
with
all
certainty
to
be
the
King’s
daughter
.
Did
you
see
the
meeting
of
the
two
kings
?
No
.
Then
have
you
lost
a
sight
which
was
to
be
seen
,
cannot
be
spoken
of
.
There
might
you
have
beheld
one
joy
crown
another
,
so
and
in
such
manner
that
it
seemed
sorrow
wept
to
take
leave
of
them
,
for
their
joy
waded
in
tears
.
There
was
casting
up
of
eyes
,
holding
up
of
hands
,
with
countenance
of
such
distraction
that
they
were
to
be
known
by
garment
,
not
by
favor
.
Our
king
,
being
ready
to
leap
out
of
himself
for
joy
of
his
found
daughter
,
as
if
that
joy
were
now
become
a
loss
,
cries
O
,
thy
mother
,
thy
mother
!
then
asks
Bohemia
forgiveness
,
then
embraces
his
son-in-law
,
then
again
worries
he
his
daughter
with
clipping
her
.
Now
he
thanks
the
old
shepherd
,
which
stands
by
ACT 5. SC. 2
like
a
weather-bitten
conduit
of
many
kings’
reigns
.
I
never
heard
of
such
another
encounter
,
which
lames
report
to
follow
it
and
undoes
description
to
do
it
.
What
,
pray
you
,
became
of
Antigonus
,
that
carried
hence
the
child
?
Like
an
old
tale
still
,
which
will
have
matter
to
rehearse
though
credit
be
asleep
and
not
an
ear
open
:
he
was
torn
to
pieces
with
a
bear
.
This
avouches
the
shepherd’s
son
,
who
has
not
only
his
innocence
,
which
seems
much
,
to
justify
him
,
but
a
handkerchief
and
rings
of
his
that
Paulina
knows
.
What
became
of
his
bark
and
his
followers
?
Wracked
the
same
instant
of
their
master’s
death
and
in
the
view
of
the
shepherd
,
so
that
all
the
instruments
which
aided
to
expose
the
child
were
even
then
lost
when
it
was
found
.
But
O
,
the
noble
combat
that
’twixt
joy
and
sorrow
was
fought
in
Paulina
.
She
had
one
eye
declined
for
the
loss
of
her
husband
,
another
elevated
that
the
oracle
was
fulfilled
.
She
lifted
the
Princess
from
the
earth
,
and
so
locks
her
in
embracing
as
if
she
would
pin
her
to
her
heart
that
she
might
no
more
be
in
danger
of
losing
.
The
dignity
of
this
act
was
worth
the
audience
of
kings
and
princes
,
for
by
such
was
it
acted
.
One
of
the
prettiest
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
’t
bravely
confessed
and
lamented
by
the
King
—
how
attentiveness
wounded
his
daughter
,
ACT 5. SC. 2
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
’t
,
the
woe
had
been
universal
.
Are
they
returned
to
the
court
?
No
.
The
Princess
hearing
of
her
mother’s
statue
,
which
is
in
the
keeping
of
Paulina
—
a
piece
many
years
in
doing
and
now
newly
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
he
is
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
.
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
?
Who
would
be
thence
that
has
the
benefit
of
access
?
Every
wink
of
an
eye
some
new
grace
will
be
born
.
Our
absence
makes
us
unthrifty
to
our
knowledge
.
Let’s
along
.
The
Three
Gentlemen
exit
.
Now
,
had
I
not
the
dash
of
my
former
life
in
me
,
would
preferment
drop
on
my
head
.
I
brought
the
old
man
and
his
son
aboard
the
Prince
,
told
him
I
heard
them
talk
of
a
fardel
and
I
know
not
what
.
But
he
at
that
time
,
overfond
of
the
shepherd’s
daughter
—
so
he
then
took
her
to
be
—
who
began
to
be
much
seasick
,
and
himself
little
ACT 5. SC. 2
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
Shepherd’s
Son
,
both
dressed
in
rich
clothing
.
Here
come
those
I
have
done
good
to
against
my
will
,
and
already
appearing
in
the
blossoms
of
their
fortune
.
Come
,
boy
,
I
am
past
more
children
,
but
thy
sons
and
daughters
will
be
all
gentlemen
born
.
,
to
Autolycus
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
.
I
know
you
are
now
,
sir
,
a
gentleman
born
.
Ay
,
and
have
been
so
any
time
these
four
hours
.
And
so
have
I
,
boy
.
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
gentlemanlike
tears
that
ever
we
shed
.
We
may
live
,
son
,
to
shed
many
more
.
Ay
,
or
else
’twere
hard
luck
,
being
in
so
preposterous
estate
as
we
are
.
I
humbly
beseech
you
,
sir
,
to
pardon
me
all
ACT 5. SC. 2
the
faults
I
have
committed
to
your
Worship
and
to
give
me
your
good
report
to
the
Prince
my
master
.
Prithee
,
son
,
do
,
for
we
must
be
gentle
now
we
are
gentlemen
.
,
to
Autolycus
Thou
wilt
amend
thy
life
?
Ay
,
an
it
like
your
good
Worship
.
Give
me
thy
hand
.
I
will
swear
to
the
Prince
thou
art
as
honest
a
true
fellow
as
any
is
in
Bohemia
.
You
may
say
it
,
but
not
swear
it
.
Not
swear
it
,
now
I
am
a
gentleman
?
Let
boors
and
franklins
say
it
;
I’ll
swear
it
.
How
if
it
be
false
,
son
?
If
it
be
ne’er
so
false
,
a
true
gentleman
may
swear
it
in
the
behalf
of
his
friend
.
—
And
I’ll
swear
to
the
Prince
thou
art
a
tall
fellow
of
thy
hands
and
that
thou
wilt
not
be
drunk
;
but
I
know
thou
art
no
tall
fellow
of
thy
hands
and
that
thou
wilt
be
drunk
.
But
I’ll
swear
it
,
and
I
would
thou
wouldst
be
a
tall
fellow
of
thy
hands
.
I
will
prove
so
,
sir
,
to
my
power
.
Ay
,
by
any
means
prove
a
tall
fellow
.
If
I
do
not
wonder
how
thou
dar’st
venture
to
be
drunk
,
not
being
a
tall
fellow
,
trust
me
not
.
Hark
,
the
Kings
and
Princes
,
our
kindred
,
are
going
to
see
the
Queen’s
picture
.
Come
,
follow
us
.
We’ll
be
thy
good
masters
.
They
exit
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Scene
3
Enter
Leontes
,
Polixenes
,
Florizell
,
Perdita
,
Camillo
,
Paulina
,
and
Lords
.
O
grave
and
good
Paulina
,
the
great
comfort
That
I
have
had
of
thee
!
What
,
sovereign
sir
,
I
did
not
well
,
I
meant
well
.
All
my
services
You
have
paid
home
.
But
that
you
have
vouchsafed
,
With
your
crowned
brother
and
these
your
contracted
Heirs
of
your
kingdoms
,
my
poor
house
to
visit
,
It
is
a
surplus
of
your
grace
which
never
My
life
may
last
to
answer
.
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
.
As
she
lived
peerless
,
So
her
dead
likeness
,
I
do
well
believe
,
Excels
whatever
yet
you
looked
upon
Or
hand
of
man
hath
done
.
Therefore
I
keep
it
Lonely
,
apart
.
But
here
it
is
.
Prepare
To
see
the
life
as
lively
mocked
as
ever
Still
sleep
mocked
death
.
Behold
,
and
say
’tis
well
.
She
draws
a
curtain
to
reveal
Hermione
(
like
a
statue
)
.
I
like
your
silence
.
It
the
more
shows
off
Your
wonder
.
But
yet
speak
.
First
you
,
my
liege
.
Comes
it
not
something
near
?
Her
natural
posture
!
—
Chide
me
,
dear
stone
,
that
I
may
say
indeed
Thou
art
Hermione
;
or
rather
,
thou
art
she
ACT 5. SC. 3
In
thy
not
chiding
,
for
she
was
as
tender
As
infancy
and
grace
.
—
But
yet
,
Paulina
,
Hermione
was
not
so
much
wrinkled
,
nothing
So
agèd
as
this
seems
.
O
,
not
by
much
!
So
much
the
more
our
carver’s
excellence
,
Which
lets
go
by
some
sixteen
years
and
makes
her
As
she
lived
now
.
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
wooed
her
.
I
am
ashamed
.
Does
not
the
stone
rebuke
me
For
being
more
stone
than
it
?
—
O
royal
piece
,
There’s
magic
in
thy
majesty
,
which
has
My
evils
conjured
to
remembrance
and
From
thy
admiring
daughter
took
the
spirits
,
Standing
like
stone
with
thee
.
And
give
me
leave
,
And
do
not
say
’tis
superstition
,
that
I
kneel
,
and
then
implore
her
blessing
.
She
kneels
.
Lady
,
Dear
queen
,
that
ended
when
I
but
began
,
Give
me
that
hand
of
yours
to
kiss
.
O
,
patience
!
The
statue
is
but
newly
fixed
;
the
color’s
Not
dry
.
,
to
Leontes
,
who
weeps
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
killed
itself
much
sooner
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Dear
my
brother
,
Let
him
that
was
the
cause
of
this
have
power
To
take
off
so
much
grief
from
you
as
he
Will
piece
up
in
himself
.
Indeed
,
my
lord
,
If
I
had
thought
the
sight
of
my
poor
image
Would
thus
have
wrought
you
—
for
the
stone
is
mine
—
I’d
not
have
showed
it
.
Do
not
draw
the
curtain
.
No
longer
shall
you
gaze
on
’t
,
lest
your
fancy
May
think
anon
it
moves
.
Let
be
,
let
be
.
Would
I
were
dead
but
that
methinks
already
—
What
was
he
that
did
make
it
?
—
See
,
my
lord
,
Would
you
not
deem
it
breathed
?
And
that
those
veins
Did
verily
bear
blood
?
Masterly
done
.
The
very
life
seems
warm
upon
her
lip
.
The
fixture
of
her
eye
has
motion
in
’t
,
As
we
are
mocked
with
art
.
I’ll
draw
the
curtain
.
My
lord’s
almost
so
far
transported
that
He’ll
think
anon
it
lives
.
O
sweet
Paulina
,
Make
me
to
think
so
twenty
years
together
!
No
settled
senses
of
the
world
can
match
The
pleasure
of
that
madness
.
Let
’t
alone
.
I
am
sorry
,
sir
,
I
have
thus
far
stirred
you
,
but
I
could
afflict
you
farther
.
Do
,
Paulina
,
For
this
affliction
has
a
taste
as
sweet
ACT 5. SC. 3
As
any
cordial
comfort
.
Still
methinks
There
is
an
air
comes
from
her
.
What
fine
chisel
Could
ever
yet
cut
breath
?
Let
no
man
mock
me
,
For
I
will
kiss
her
.
Good
my
lord
,
forbear
.
The
ruddiness
upon
her
lip
is
wet
.
You’ll
mar
it
if
you
kiss
it
,
stain
your
own
With
oily
painting
.
Shall
I
draw
the
curtain
?
No
,
not
these
twenty
years
.
,
rising
So
long
could
I
Stand
by
,
a
looker-on
.
Either
forbear
,
Quit
presently
the
chapel
,
or
resolve
you
For
more
amazement
.
If
you
can
behold
it
,
I’ll
make
the
statue
move
indeed
,
descend
And
take
you
by
the
hand
.
But
then
you’ll
think
—
Which
I
protest
against
—
I
am
assisted
By
wicked
powers
.
What
you
can
make
her
do
I
am
content
to
look
on
;
what
to
speak
,
I
am
content
to
hear
,
for
’tis
as
easy
To
make
her
speak
as
move
.
It
is
required
You
do
awake
your
faith
.
Then
all
stand
still
—
Or
those
that
think
it
is
unlawful
business
I
am
about
,
let
them
depart
.
Proceed
.
No
foot
shall
stir
.
Music
,
awake
her
!
Strike
!
Music
sounds
.
’Tis
time
.
Descend
.
Be
stone
no
more
.
Approach
.
Strike
all
that
look
upon
with
marvel
.
Come
,
I’ll
fill
your
grave
up
.
Stir
,
nay
,
come
away
.
Bequeath
to
death
your
numbness
,
for
from
him
Dear
life
redeems
you
.
—
You
perceive
she
stirs
.
ACT 5. SC. 3
Hermione
descends
.
Start
not
.
Her
actions
shall
be
holy
as
You
hear
my
spell
is
lawful
.
Do
not
shun
her
Until
you
see
her
die
again
,
for
then
You
kill
her
double
.
Nay
,
present
your
hand
.
When
she
was
young
,
you
wooed
her
;
now
in
age
Is
she
become
the
suitor
?
O
,
she’s
warm
!
If
this
be
magic
,
let
it
be
an
art
Lawful
as
eating
.
She
embraces
him
.
She
hangs
about
his
neck
.
If
she
pertain
to
life
,
let
her
speak
too
.
Ay
,
and
make
it
manifest
where
she
has
lived
,
Or
how
stol’n
from
the
dead
.
That
she
is
living
,
Were
it
but
told
you
,
should
be
hooted
at
Like
an
old
tale
,
but
it
appears
she
lives
,
Though
yet
she
speak
not
.
Mark
a
little
while
.
To
Perdita
.
Please
you
to
interpose
,
fair
madam
.
Kneel
And
pray
your
mother’s
blessing
.
To
Hermione
.
Turn
,
good
lady
.
Our
Perdita
is
found
.
You
gods
,
look
down
,
And
from
your
sacred
vials
pour
your
graces
Upon
my
daughter’s
head
!
Tell
me
,
mine
own
,
Where
hast
thou
been
preserved
?
Where
lived
?
How
found
Thy
father’s
court
?
For
thou
shalt
hear
that
I
,
Knowing
by
Paulina
that
the
oracle
Gave
hope
thou
wast
in
being
,
have
preserved
Myself
to
see
the
issue
.
There’s
time
enough
for
that
,
Lest
they
desire
upon
this
push
to
trouble
ACT 5. SC. 3
Your
joys
with
like
relation
.
Go
together
,
You
precious
winners
all
.
Your
exultation
Partake
to
everyone
.
I
,
an
old
turtle
,
Will
wing
me
to
some
withered
bough
and
there
My
mate
,
that’s
never
to
be
found
again
,
Lament
till
I
am
lost
.
O
peace
,
Paulina
.
Thou
shouldst
a
husband
take
by
my
consent
,
As
I
by
thine
a
wife
.
This
is
a
match
,
And
made
between
’s
by
vows
.
Thou
hast
found
mine
—
But
how
is
to
be
questioned
,
for
I
saw
her
,
As
I
thought
,
dead
,
and
have
in
vain
said
many
A
prayer
upon
her
grave
.
I’ll
not
seek
far
—
For
him
,
I
partly
know
his
mind
—
to
find
thee
An
honorable
husband
.
—
Come
,
Camillo
,
And
take
her
by
the
hand
,
whose
worth
and
honesty
Is
richly
noted
and
here
justified
By
us
,
a
pair
of
kings
.
Let’s
from
this
place
.
To
Hermione
.
What
,
look
upon
my
brother
!
Both
your
pardons
That
e’er
I
put
between
your
holy
looks
My
ill
suspicion
.
This
your
son-in-law
And
son
unto
the
King
,
whom
heavens
directing
,
Is
troth-plight
to
your
daughter
.
—
Good
Paulina
,
Lead
us
from
hence
,
where
we
may
leisurely
Each
one
demand
and
answer
to
his
part
Performed
in
this
wide
gap
of
time
since
first
We
were
dissevered
.
Hastily
lead
away
.
They
exit
.
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a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified asverse or prose
editorial emendation