Time.
I that please some, try all, both joy and terror
Of good and bad, that mask and unfold 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 untry'd
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 receiv'd. 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 ye now may be
In fair Bithynia, and remember well,
I mention here a son o'th' king's, whom Florizel
I now name to you, and with speed so pace
To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace,
Equal with wond'ring. What of her ensues,
I list not prophesie. 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,
And grant to Time your free indulgence now;
Time, who doth all for you; on whom depend
Your hopes and fears, your chiefest foe or friend,
As he is us'd; if well, he on his wings,
Delicious transport to the lover brings;
Comforts the mourner, sets the captive free,
And to the bard gives immortality.
Think well on this; grant then what Time requires,
So may Time grant each honest heart's desires. [Exit. Court of Bithynia. Enter Polixenes and Camillo.

Pol.

I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate; 'tis a sickness denying thee any thing, a death to grant this.

Cam.

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.

Pol.

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 want to thee. Of that fatal country Sicilia, pr'ythee 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 saw'st thou the prince Florizel, my son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing them, when they have approved their virtues.

Cam.

Sir, it is three days, since I saw the prince; what his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have noted, he is of late much retired from court, and is less frequent to his princely exercises, than formerly he hath appear'd.

Pol.

I have consider'd 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 neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate.

Cam.

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.

Pol.

That's likewise part of my intelligence; but, I fear the angel 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. Pr'ythee be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.

Cam.

I willingly obey your command.

Pol.

My best Camillo, we must disguise ourselves.

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