Clown.

What hast thou here? ballads?

Mops.

I pray now buy some. I love a ballad or a life in print, for then one is sure they're true.

Aut.

Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burthen; and how she long'd to eat adders heads and toads carbonado'd.

Mops.

But is it true, think you?

Aut.

True, upon my honour. Why do you think, tho' I carry a pack, I'd carry a pack of lies about? here's the midwife's hand to it, one Mrs. Taleporter, and six honest wives that were present. I myself saw five young adders creep out of her nostrils and in again at her mouth.

Dor.

Bless me from marrying an usurer.

Aut.

Here's another ballad of a great huge fish, with eyes like full moons, and twenty rows of teeth as long as plowshares, with a tail like a fiery dragon's, which appear'd upon the coast the 32d of April, new stile, breathing flames and brimstone, and vomiting out pin-cushions and love letters. It sung this very ballad against hard-hearted-maids. It was thought this beautiful monster was a woman, and that she was turn'd into an horrible thornback for having pierc'd so many young men's hearts in this world by turning her back upon them, and she now continues a frightful kind of an old fish, call'd a maid. Come, buy it; the ballad's a very pretty, pitiful ballad, and as true as the former.

Dorc.

Come, lay it by and shew us another.

Aut.

Here's one that I'm sure must please you. It is come from Italy, a master-piece of humour, one of your, your, your hurly burlie's, for most people like it, because they do not understand it.

Clown.

O master, here's the rarest news. There are without, I believe, a dozen goat-herds, neat-herds, shepherds, and all sorts, in their holyday jackets, and every man his lass in his hand; they say they have a dance will please plentifully. There's one tight little fellow among them, that, I believe in my conscience, leaps twelve foot and a half from the ground, and he so capers and spins you in the air, you'd swear he was a shuttlecock, and the floor a racket, which, when he touches, sends him up again. Then there's the trimest little black-ey'd wench, so brisk and so frisky, and she doth wink it and splink it at the lad, that, od's my life, I cou'd have found in my heart to have kiss'd the little jade, she look'd so.—They're all without, and only wait for leave to be admitted.

Alc.

Away, we'll none of them; here has been too much homely foolery already.—I know, sir, we weary you.

King.

You weary those that refresh us. I love such gambols much; pray let us see them.

Clown.

O Sir, these are none of your common dancers at fairs and—

Alc.

Leave your prating; since these good men are pleased, let them come in.

Cam.
Is it not too far gone? 'tis time to part them.

King.
No; I will try both him, and her, and all,
To th' utmost proof. It will be time enough
T' unmask ourselves, when they begin the rites.—
I'll make the machine play.—How now, fair shepherd!
Your heart is full of something, that doth 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 wou'd have ransack'd
The pedlar's silken treasury, and have pour'd it
To her acceptance. You have let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your lass
Interpretation shou'd 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.

Flor.
Old sir, I know
She prizes not such trifles as these are;
The gifts she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd
Up in my heart, which I have giv'n already,
But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient sir, who it should seem
Hath some time lov'd. I take thy hand, this hand
Soft as the down of Venus' doves, and white
As Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow
That's bolted by the northern blast twice o'er.

King.
How prettily, young swain, you seem to wash
The hand, was white before.—
But to your protestation: let me hear
What you profess.

Flor.
Do, and be witness to it.

King.
And this my neighbour too.

Flor.
And he, and more
Then he, and men; the earth, the heav'ns, and all
The ruling planets, in their circling orbs;
That were I crown'd 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 wou'd not prize them
Without her love.

King.
Fairly offer'd,
This shews a sound affection.

Alc.
But, my daughter,
Say you the like to him?

Perd.
I cannot speak
So well, nothing so well, no nor mean better.
By the pattern of my own thoughts, I cut out
The purity of his.

Alc.
Call in the priest.
We'll doubly crown this happy festival. Enter PRIEST, with AUTOLICUS officiously attending him.
And friends unknown, you shall bear witness to it.
Observe the young man well, and note him so,
That in what garb hereafter you may see him,
Still may you paint his features in your mind,
And in remembrance bear his sacred vows.—
I give my daughter to him [hands her to the Priest] and will make
Her portion equal his.

Flor.
O that must be
I' th' virtue of thy daughter; one being dead
I shall have more than you can guess at yet,
Enough then for your wonder.

Aut. [to the King.]

Master Greybeard, hark you, a word with you; be sure you remember to let us all have a kiss at the bride.

King.

O fear it not; when they are marry'd you shall kiss the bride.

Flor.
Come on; why do you now delay my bliss?
Most holy father, do thine office now,
Before these witnesses.

Priest.
My son, thine hand;
And, daughter, thine.

King.
Soft, sir, a while; beseech you,
Have you a father?

Flor.
I have; but what of him?

King.
Knows he of this?

Flor.
He neither does, nor shall.

King.
Methinks a farther
Is, at the nuptials 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 bed-rid, and again plays o'er
The follies of his childhood?

Flor.
No, good sir,
He hath his health, and ampler strength, indeed,
Than most have at his age.

King.
By my white beard,
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
Something unfilial. Reason, my son,
Shou'd chuse himself a wife; but as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else
But fair posterity) shou'd hold some counsel
In such a business.

Flor.
I yield all this;
But, for some other reasons, my grave sir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this business.

King.
Let him know it.

Flor.
He shall not.

King.
Pr'ythee let him.

Flor.
No, he must not.

King.
Let him, my son; he shall not need to grieve
At knowing of thy choice.

Flor.
Come, come, he must not,
You interrupt us, sir; no more of this,
But mark our vows.

King.
Mark your divorce, young sir, [discovers himself.
Whom son I blush to call; thou art too base
To be acknowledg'd. Thou, a scepter's heir,
That thus affect'st a sheephook! thou, old traitor,
I'm sorry that, by hanging thee, I can
But shorten thy life one week. And thou fresh piece
Of excellent witchcraft, who, of force, must know
The royal fool thou cop'st with— [Turning to Florizel.

Perd.
Will't please you, sir, begone.
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.

King.
By heav'n he knows me, yet he blushes not.

Flor.
What blush to love! Shame light on him that does.
I glory in't; for 'tis the next approach
Of mortal souls to the divine perfection.

King.
I tax not love, but thy degen'rate choice.

Flor.
Can you look there, and yet arraign my choice?
No; 'tis the will of heav'n she shou'd be lov'd,
And it were impious pride to contradict it.

King.
Hell! death and furies! dost thou still persist?

Flor.
Persist to death.—My Perdita, my love,
Let not affliction change that lovely cheek.
I've sworn, and will be thine till death.

King.
And thou shall keep thy vow.—Camillo, call
Our guards, and lead this sorc'ress, and her sire,
To instant death.

Flor.
I charge you, sir, forbear,
By heav'n, the first that touches her shall die.

King.
Resistance is in vain. There waits without
An armed force full fifty times your strength.

Aut.
O blood! I shall be hang'd too for the damn'd lies
I told him of himself. [Aside.

King.
For thee, fond boy, if I but see thee sigh,
We will cut off the hopes of thy succession;
Not hold thee of our blood.

Flor.
From my succession wipe me; I shall be
Heir to her love, and reign within her heart.

Cam.
This, sir, is madness.

Flor.
Call it what you will,
To barter shew for happiness is gain.
Not for Bithynia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereout glean'd, for all the sun sees, or
The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide
In unknown fathoms, will I break my faith
Plighted to this my fair, beloved bride.

Perd.
You have:
I cannot answer you with aught, but tears.

Alc.
Most gracious king, if thou'lt vouchsafe to hear
A wretch, whom once you honour'd with your friendship,
As did Camillo, hearken to Antigonus. [Discovers himself.

King.
Antigonus.

Cam.
How, risen from the dead!

King.
'Tis he indeed
If my own senses vouch the wond'rous truth,

'Twas said thou wer't devour'd by hungry wolves.

Alc.
So has it been for sixteen years believ'd.

King.
Whence then this mystry how cam'st thou hither!

Alc.
You may remember our distemper'd king
Leontes growing jealous of his queen,
Far gone with child, most barbarously doom'd
To be expos'd, the infant she shou'd bear.
I undertook the cruel task, through mercy,
First vowing to myself to save the babe,
And fly with it to some more peaceful shore.
Entring the wood, with this determination,
I spy'd the carcass of a man, just newly
Slain, and but half devour'd by a wolf.
On this I put my cloaths, and near it strew'd
The infant's little weeds all smear'd with blood,
Which being found, and known, 'twas thought by all
That we were both devoured by wild beasts.
Then flying with my little charge, I came to seek
An hospitable shelter in Bithynia.—
How well my ward in sixteen years hath grown,
Turn there, and you may see.

Flor.
My Perdita.

Alc.
My lord, I knew that Doricles was Florizel,
Else shou'd he not, however good and kind,
Have leave to look upon her royal beauties.
Take her my lord.—In truth, she is a treasure
More worth than all the riches of the east:
For she 'th been bred, unknowing of her state,
With virtues that may well adorn a throne;
And, in herself, so sweet her disposition,
You wou'd think mercy, charity, and peace,
Come down from heav'n, and lodg'd within her breast.
My child, my child, thou'rt now my child no more;
Yet don't forget, that once you call'd me father.

Perd.
Ne'er shall thou meet less reverence and love
Then heretofore, but much more gratitude.

King.
Since thou hast lost one father, gentlest maid
'Tis fitting I provide thee with another.
Give me thy hand, my son; here take thy Perdita,
And may the gods shower blessings on you both.

Flor.
I am all transport, extacy, and rapture:
O let me fall, and kiss your royal feet. [Kneels to the King.
And you, my Perdita.

Perd.
That you are mine, I joy, howe'er it be;
But no less truly shou'd I joy, had you
Fall'n to my state, than that I rise to yours.

Cam.
Now, to confirm thy joy, Antigonus,
Leontes, satisfy'd his queen was virtuous,
For many years has mour'd his infant lost,
Depriv'd of ev'r child. And now thy Perdita
Is only heiress of Sicilia's crown.

All.

Joy, joy to Perdita and Florizei.

Aut. [kneeling to Perdita.]

O! my good lady princess, let the joy be universal; leave not a wrinkled brow, or cloudy face, in all the realm upon this happy day; begin your reign with graceless act of mercy; intreat the good king, your worthy father-in-law, to forgive me all the damn'd lies I told him of himself. I own I have been a very great rogue, and deserve hanging; but I will mend my life, and promise that I will not never do the like no more. Oh! ho!

Perd.
May I presume to sue for mercy for him?

King.
He needs it not; he is a pleasant knave,
And ne'er offended us.—Be merry sirrah,

Aut.

Huzza! huzza! huzza!—[Leaps about.] a reprieve, a reprieve. But may it please your grace—he, he, he!—I hope you don't forget your promise, he, he, he! that when they were marry'd. I shou'd kiss the bride.

King.

And so thou shalt; I'll set thee an example.

Aut. [kisses her.]

This is the first time I ever kiss'd a princess. [Snatches another kiss.] And this shall be the last. By Jupiter, I think I feel myself inspir'd; and if all your majesties will give me leave, I'll sing you a song I have made extrumpery on the occasion.