Time.
How many times have you been round? Sixteen? (Phœbus makes sign in the affirmative.
Quite sure? (Phœbus repeats sign.)
That's right! Then now for the next scene. (Music.—Scene closes in.

SCENE IV. —A road near the shepherd's farm. Enter Autolycus, with pedlar's box, R.

Aut.
Any tapes, ribbons, stay-laces to-day?
Hare skins or rabbit skins? Now, girls, this way!
Any old wine or beer bottles to sell?
If not, old silver spoons will do as well.
Good prices given—and then, to make the best of 'em.
No questions asked, of how you came possessed of 'em.
My trade's not bad, in spite of the belief
That the receiver is worse than the thief.
Why shouldn't I be proud of profits made
In mine as well as any other trade;
There's so much swindling now, there's scarce a fig
To choose between the tradesman and the prig.

SONG, Autolycus.—Air,—“Bobbing Around.”
The shopkeeper who gives short weight,
  Is robbing all round, all round, all round;
The grocers who adulterate,
  Like me go robbing all round.
The milkman in his lowly walk,
  Goes robbing all round, all round, all round,
When 'stead of milk, he walks his chalk,
  And so goes robbing around.
The publican dilutes our beer,
  A robbing all round, all round, all round,
With water, and still worse, I fear,
  So he goes robbing around.
In all we eat, or drink, or buy,
  There's robbing all round, all round, all round,
And tradesmen with each other vie,
  Who'll best do robbing all round.
Who'll first at me, then, throw a stone,
  For robbing around, around, around?
My trade's as honest as their own,
  Since all go robbing around.

But who comes here? sure I should know that phiz;
Can it be young Prince Florizel? It is!
What brings him here? I'll watch! Enter Florizel, L.

Flor.
Ho! fellow! stay!
Hast seen a hawking party pass this way?

Aut.
Sir, I'm a hawking party. (opening pack.)

Flor.
So I see,
But curb your hawker's license, sir, with me,
Or of your pedlar's head I'll be a breaker,
And make each pedlar's bone a pedlar's acher.
Leave me.

Aut. (picks his pocket of handkerchief:)
I'm off.

Flor.
Or, stay—go seek my train,
That they may know I've sent you, take this chain, (gives chain from his wrist.
They'll recognize it—

Aut. (aside.)
I'm afraid they'll not,
If I once get it to the melting pot. Exit, L.

Flor.
Heigho! I'm worn out, tired, beaten hollow,
Fool that I was the game so far to follow.
I've lost my party, and I've lost my way,
And now, in seeking both, I've lost the day.
I've had no dinner, though (pray don't feel hurt
At the old joke) I have got my dessert.
Why couldn't I let others seek the game?
I might have said I caught it all the same.
How oft I've known hares, partridges, and pheasants,
By famous sportsmen sent to friends as presents,
And known full well more birds, by ten to one,
Were brought down by their purse than by their gun!
I've known men who kill rabbits by the score,
That late were hanging at the poulterer's door,
And first-rate fishermen their baskets filling
With splendid river trout, at three a-shilling!
Where are my fellows? Ho! Halloa! In vain
I've called so often I can't call again;
I've tried all day, till I've near cracked my throat,
It's no use calling, so I'll send a note. (blows horn.
Still no one comes. Yes! coming steps I hear!

Enter Perdita, with a milk-pail, R.
What's that? My stars!

Per. (starting.)
Oh my!

Flor. (starting.)
Oh lor!

Per.
Oh dear!

Flor.
Smitten completely! Yes, I'm done for surely.

Per.
Oh! something's struck me here, I feel quite poorly.

Flor.
Fair maid!

Per.
Fair sir!

Flor.
I—that is, how d'ye do?

Per.
Considerably worse for seeing you.

Flor.
And my poor heart, you've sent an arrow thro' it.

Per.
Have I? indeed I didn't go to do it.
But let me fly for something that will heal
Your wounds.

Flor.
Not so! first tell me how you feel.

Per.
A little better than I did—but still—

Flor.
Describe the symptons.

Per.
If I can I will.

DUET,—Florizel and Perdita.—Air, “Lilly Baker.’ Per.
Oh! my heart goes pit-a-pat. (symphony piccolo.)
And my brain goes whirligig. (symphony violin.)
Brows all throbbing rub-a-dub. (symphony drum.) Flor.
Just my case precisely, oh. Per.
Trembling like the aspen tree, Flor.
Just my symtoms to a T. Per.
Feeling like I can't tell what, Flor.
Just the ailment I have got. Together.
Both our hearts go pit-a-pat. (sym. piccolo.)
Both our brains go whirligig. (sym. violin.)
Both our brows throb rub-a-dub. (sym. drum.)
And match each others, nicely oh,
Rub-a-dub, whirligig, pit-a-pat. (sym. piccolo.)
Trembling, shivery quivery. (triangle.)
Whirligig, pit-a-pat, rub-a-dub. (sym. drum.)
That's the case precisely oh.

Per.
But I must go.

Flor.
First hear me breathe my vows.

Per.
I've got to feed the sheep and milk the cows.

Flor.
Hear me! I'm rich, you shall in robes of silk walk,

Per.
You're very kind—my walk in life's a milk walk.

Flor.
My station's high as the bright stars that glow
I' the milky way above.

Per.
Mine's milk below.

Flor.
Still what is rank?

Per.
My butter will be soon,

Per.
If I stand talking all the afternoon.

Flor.
Nay, was a churn e'er meant for hands like these?
Though in a cottage bred, you're quite the cheese.
Think not of butter, then, be mine, I pray,
Nor let the paltry curds stand in your way.

Per.
These tender words are hard to be withstood,
But it can't be, I only wish it could.

SONG,—Perdita.—Air, “Kemo Kimo.”
I'm a simple country maid,
  You may sing songs, and folly talk, to try me, oh,
But you don't mean it, I'm afraid,
  Sing song folly meant to guy me, oh.
Some folks, forgetting their condition,
  Sing song stations such as I'm in, oh,
Will give full swing to their ambition,
  Sing song policy and climbin', oh.
Scheme, oh, climb, oh, where? up there.
  You're high, I'm low, our lots together bringing,
Such a medley 'twould be—palace—sheep-cot—
  Sing song folly don't come nigh me, oh.

Flor.
You do not love me, then.

Per.
Oh! don't I though?

Flor.
You do!

Per.
I'm p'raps too bold in saying so.
But—

Flor.
But you do?

Per.
False modesty I'll shelf,

Thus I embrace your offer and yourself. (embraces him.
What have I done? (starting away.)

Flor.
Precisely what you should do.
Under the circumstances—all you could do.
Do it again.

Per.
Nay; but my father—

Flor.
Pshaw!
He'll not object to such a son-in-law.
Lead me to him at once.

Per.
I should be proud
To lead you but “no followers are allowed”
In this place, he on that point is so strict,
Each love-sick shepherd out o' th' farm is kicked.

Flor.
May I ask why?

Per.
He says it doesn't pay,
For Corin to be piping half the day
To Phillis, while they both have work to do.

Flor.
Of course not, when he pays the piper too.
He'll not object to me, though, I'll engage.

Per.
He does to all—he gets in quite a rage,
Flies at them like a tiger.

Flor.
Hah! 'twill be
My offer he will jump at—not at me.

DUET.—Air, “Cheer up, Sam.” Flor.
So come, fear nought, my charmer, you'll see what you shall see. Per.
My father would be furious, if he thought that you loved me. Flor.
However fierce his fury, my passion his shall quell. Per.
Oh, no; I wish you'd leave me, and seek some fairer belle. Flor.
Cheer up, dear! and don't let your spirits go down,
For there's no fairer belle—that you know well—
And I'll make it all right for a crown. Per.
Dear, oh, dear! you'll be done so uncommonly brown,

When my father you tell—that I know well—
And I wouldn't be you for a crown. Exeunt, R. Enter Autolycus, L.

Aut.
Business is looking up. The chain I've sold—
'Twas literally worth its weight in gold.
Then let me see; two watches, three gold rings,
Twelve handkerchiefs, besides a lot of things
Hung out to dry—I thought, their roughness feeling,
They wanted either ironing or stealing.
But stay—by Jove! here comes the prince again.
I shouldn't wonder if he'll want his chain.
What shall I say? I'd best be off, or no—
I'll swear that I've been robbed. (lies down groaning.)
  Help—murder—oh! Enter Florizel, R.

Flor.
I've seen her to the door: she said she'd rather
I saw her pa, before I saw her farther.

Aut.
He doesn't see me—oh!

Flor.
Whence come those groans? (seeing Autolycus starts.
A man!

Aut.
No, sir, a heap of broken bones—
Oh!

Flor.
Speak; how came you thus?

Aut.
Oh, sir! you see,
A band of felons came and fell on me—
Robbed and half killed me.

Flor.
Let me help you—so! (raising him.

Aut.
Gently, good sir—stop! (picks his pocket of purse.)
  That's it now—ah! oh!

Flor.
How feel you know?

Aut.
Sir, to your kindness bound—
Better, I should say, by (feeling weight of purse.) some twenty pound. (aside.)
He doesn't ask me for the chain—it's queer.

Flor.
Tell me—are you a dweller about here?

Aut.
I don't dwell regularly anywhere.

Flor.
Well, do you know the farm house over there?

Aut.
Old Blocus's! well I should think I did.

Flor.
Within that farm-house is a treasure hid,
Which must be mine. Now could you aid me win it?

Aut.
Aid you! we'll crack the crib in half a minute.

Flor.
What mean you?

Aut.
Oh, all right! there's nought to fear,
We shan't meet a policeman far or near.

Flor.
'Twould make but little difference if we should—
The papers say they're not a bit of good.
But all I want is to get in the place.

Aut.
That's all one ever wants in such a case.
The treasure that you speak of then—you snatch it,
And chuck it out—I'll wait below to catch it.

Flor.
Chuck out my treasure!—she, so fair—so tender!

Aut.
She! Stop! here's some mistake about the gender.
A woman! Ah!— (hesitating.)

Flor.
You hesitate—and wherefore?

Aut.
Well, it's not quite the sort of job I care for.

Flor.
Still if I pay you well—

Aut.
Sir, I'm your man.

Flor.
Good! There's my hand: and now, then, what's your plan?

DUET,—Autolycus and Florizel. (With whistle obligato). Air, “Bill Simmons.” Aut.
They're busy sheep-shearing at present, I know,
So in as a lab'rer your plan is to go. Flor.
Though the plan is degrading, I'll not hesitate,
But submit to the shears, as the scissors of Fate. Aut.
Success, then, is sure, 'tis on all hands agreed,
By dint of sheer industry all may succeed. Flor.
Sheer industry! Stuff! At such maxims I scoff!
My shearing will be but with her to sheer off. Aut.
While there to assist you, to-morrow I'll be. Flor.
But how will you do it? Aut.
Just leave it to me. Exeunt—Florizel R., Autolycus L.

SCENE V. —The feast of Sheep-shearing Blocus the Shepherd's farm—trees hung with garlands— the farm house, R.—Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Peasants, &c., all enjoying themselves—a barrel of beer on the stage, C., Florizel and Perdita seated under a tree, R.—Blocus moving about amongst his guests. At the opening of the scene Florizel comes forward.

Flor.
Come friends, take what you please to drink or eat,
There's nought to pay, remember, I stand treat.
See is that cask of home-brewed running short,
If so, roll out another—that's your sort. (another cask is rolled in—cheers.
Fair shepherdess, you do not take your wine,
Your cup's untasted, put your lips to mine.

Per.
I put my lips to yours?

Flor.
Precisely so! (kisses her.) (aside.)
I meant my cup—I like this better, though.

Blocus.
Young stranger!

Flor.
None of that, old fellow, come,
No stranger. (slaps him on the back.)

Blocus.
Well, you make yourself at home,
I must confess; I was about to say,
We've only known you, sir, since yesterday,
Yet twice my daughter you've made free to kiss.

Per.
But not more free than welcome.

Blocus.
Silence, miss! Enter Autolycus, L.

Aut.
Now, then, my lads, look sharp—come on, come on,
This way for the original cheap John (the Peasants, flock around him.
For you, sir, thank you—one for you, now then,
In every sense I may say “sold again.”

Flor.
A word with you.

Aut.
  All right, sir. (aside to him.) Well, what news?
How are things going?

Flor.
Just as I could choose.

Aut.
That's right! I've got disguises in the cart,
So give the word when you're inclined to start.

Flor.
Nay, you mistake, I do not mean to carry her
Away by force if they will let me marry her.

Flor.
I'll ask permission first.

Aut.
If they refuse you'll—

Flor.
Why do without it, to be sure, as usual.

Aut.
Hush! we're observed. Enter Polixenes and Camillo, disguised, Time leading them in, L. H.

Time. (aside.)
He's there, I told you so!

Flor. (looking at Polixenes through eyeglass.)
Who's our friend in the cloak, I'd like to know?

Time.
He does not recognise you.

Polix.
He'd be rather
A wise son in this dress to know his father.

Per. (crosses from R.)
Welcome, sirs, to our sheep-shearing.

Flor.
It savours,
Still more of shearing with you two old shavers.

Polix. (aside.)
Presumptive heir! Now this disguise I'll tear off,
And—stead of sheep-shearing, cut my own heir off.

Time. (L. H.)
Nay, wait a while and watch them.

Cam. (looking at Perdita.)
It's a pity
She's not high-born, she's really very pretty.

Blocus. (C.)
How's this? all silent! come, my friends, I say.

Polix. (L.)
Don't let us interrupt your pastimes, pray.

Aut. (to him.)
Buy a twelve bladed knife, sir.

Polix.
Don't want any.

Aut.
Yard and a half of songs, then, for a penny.

Polix.
No thank you.

Aut.
  I've all sorts of songs, here's what d'ye call
Comic songs—love songs—sentimental—nautical. (Peasants flock round him.

1st Peasant.
Here, give me one!

2nd Peasant.
And me!

3rd Peasant.
And me!

4th Peasant.
And me!

Polix. (watching Florizel and Perdita.)
How lovingly they walk together! See!
Now will I speak. I've seen, you'll grant, I hope, enough.

Time.
Not quite! Just wait a little—give him rope enough.

Polix.
Rope enough! Yes; had I one here, I would,
That is the end of one—'twould do him good. (making signs as if administering personal chastisement. Camillo endeavours to pacify him.

Polix.
I can endure no more! Old man, come hither! (to Blocus.
Who is that maid? and who's that young sprig with her?

Flor.
Young sprig!

Per.
Nay, be not wroth, respect his age,
Old enough—

Flor.
To know better, I'll engage.

Blocus.
This maid's my daughter; this—

Flor.
Stop! friends, draw near;
What I've to say 'tis fit that all should hear.
You wish to know what brings me to this place?
Listen to me, then—I'll explain the case.

SONG,—Florizel.—Air, “The Charming Woman.”
Miss Perdita's going to marry— (all start.)
  Yes, I thought by surprise you 'twould take;
But I swear to you, by the Lord Harry,
  It's a fact, without any mistake.
Now of course you'll be anxious to learn
  Where to look for the merit that can
Deserve such a charming woman? (in an affected style.)
  Well, 'tis I am the fortunate man.
Yes, indeed, she's a charming woman,
  And 'tis I am the fortunate man. Per.
It's quite true we are going to marry,
  No sort of denial he'd take,
Nor e'en for my wedding dress tarry,
  But he's ordered the ring and the cake. Blocus. (aside.)
I know he's uncommonly rich,

  So to make all things pleasant's my plan; (weeping and joining their hands.)
Take my blessing, young man and young woman,
  And forgive a soft-hearted old man.

Polix.
Sorry to thwart your matrimonial plans,
Old gentleman, but I forbid the banns.

Flor.
Forbid the banns, you can't!

Polix.
Why not, young spark?

Flor.
Bands are forbidden only in the park.
Say who are you, to interfere that durst?

Polix. (discovering himself.)
Your father! King Polixenes the First!

Flor.
The king! the deuce! (Autolycus and Peasants sneak off.

Per.
Then every hope has flown!

Flor.
Not a bit, dear! You just let me alone!

Polix.
Follow me to the court, sir!

Flor.
Never!

Polix.
How?

Flor.
That for your court! (snaps his fingers.)

Time.
I see there'll be a row!

Polix.
Degenerate boy! with swineherds to consort,
And show thus plainly your contempt of court.
Think of the station you relinquish thus—

Flor. (embracing Perdita.)
This is my station—nay, my terminus—
Whence I'll not stir—

Cam.
Nay, sir, reflect awhile
Upon your rank.

Flor.
Who cares for rank, old file?

Polix.
Once more, I say, come home with me to court!

Flor.
Once more, sir, I'll do nothing of the sort!

DUET,—Polixenes and Florizel. Air, “Diddle cum dinky do.”—American. Polix.
Boy, do you dare then our anger defy?
  Come, march on directly before us. Flor.
To shew my contempt of your threats I reply
  In the words of the Yankee chorus.
    Diddle cum dinky do. Polix.
      What? Flor.
    Diddle cum dinky do.

Polix.
Dare you such language to use to a king? Flor.
  The language, I own, is a rum un;
But it seems Yankee singers esteem it the thing. Polix.
  Once for all you to court I summon. Flor. (folding his arms and smiling at him)—
    Diddle cum dinky do. Polix.
      Oh! Flor.
    Diddle cum dinky do. (Polixenes rushes out, L., followed by Camillo.

Per.
For my sake, canst thou brave thy father's wrath?

Flor.
Let fifty thousand fathers go to Bath,
Rather than they should part us!

Per.
Oh, how nice!
But say, how shall we act?

Time. (coming down, C.)
On my advice.

Flor.
And that is—

Time.
Cut.

Flor.
Just so; but what we want is
A place to go to.

Time.
Go to King Leontes,
King of Sicilia.

Flor.
Why select that spot?

Time.
Because it's necessary to the plot.
No words—be off!

Per.
But you'll come too?

Time.
Nay—I,
As Chorus, have yet other fish to fry.
I'll follow.

Flor.
Come with us—I wish you would, Time.

Per.
You will, eh? Say your coming, like a good Time.

TRIO,—Time, Florizel, and Perdita. Air, “Turn on Old Time.”—Maritana. Flor.
Come on old Time, a pretty pass,
  You've brought us to if here you stay,
Come on, oh Time, we don't, alas,
  Unto Sicilia know the way. Time.
Now here I stand just like an ass,
  Between two loads of tempting hay,
My wish says go, but then, alas,
  The piece requires me here to stay.

Per. Flor.
Come on, Time, do. Time.
I can't—adieu! Exeunt Florizel and Perdita, R., Time, L. SCENE VI. —An apartment in the palace of Leontes. Enter Leontes, (followed by Guards,) with a lot of stringless shirt collars, R.

Leon. (examining them.)
Now these again! not one with strings on—This is
Too bad, by Jove! Oh! how I miss the missis;
She would my shirts examine ere I wore 'em,
Mending my things almost before I tore 'em.
Sticking sometimes at work the whole day through for me,
Now I have but a housekeeper to do for me.
The difference in them let my wardrobe show,
One all stitch stitch, the other but so-so;
I once had shirts in plenty, but somehow
It seems all dickey with my linen now. (calls.)
Paulina, my good woman! Enter Paulina, L.

Paul.
Well, now then?

Leon.
Here are my collars with no strings again!

Paul.
I can't be always sewing strings on,

Leon. (wildly.)
No,
Of course not, but sometimes you might be though.

Paul.
You're always grumbling.

Leon.
Don't say that now, pray!

Paul.
Expect to have clean collars every day!

Leon.
Nay, but consider,

Paul. (snatching collars.)
Give those things to me,
I'll get you one when you have company—
There's no one coming here to-day. (a loud knock at the door.

Leon.
Halloa! Attendant brings in card on a waiter, L. H.
“Prince Florizel!” Who's he I'd like to know?

Paul.
Say you're not in.

Leon.
A prince, such slight to put on!

Paul.
You know there's nought for dinner, but cold mutton.

Leon.
He's here. Enter Florizel and Perdita, L.

Flor.
Great king I trust you'll pardon us
Coming upon you unexpected thus.

Leon.
Sir, you are welcome heartily, walk in—

Paul. (aside to Attendant.)
Send for a pound of ham and beef—cut thin.

Flor.
Just landed from a long sea trip I am
With my young bride—

Paul. (calling back Attendant who is going.)
Two pounds of beef and ham. Exit Attendant, L.

Flor.
I come, sir, in my father's name,

Leon.
I see.
But may I ask you what his name might be.

Flor.
Polixenes!

Leon.
Polixenes, my brother! (shaking him by the hand.
How is your father, boy—and how's your mother?

Flor.
Well, thank you—(aside.) Oh, my hand he nearly wrings off.

Leon. (to Perdita.)
And you, dear, go up stairs and take your things off.

Per.
Sir, this most kind reception—

Leon.
Sweetest creature, (starts aside.)
What heav'nly beauty dwells in every feature?

Paul. (tapping him on shoulder.)
Now then,

Leon. (taking her by the hand.)
One moment—deem it not amiss,
But, might I ask the favour of— (another loud knocking.
Who's this? Enter Attendant, L.

Attendant.
Your majesty here's—

Polixenes runs in L., pushing past, followed by Camillo.

Polix.
Stand aside, slave—So
I've caught you, eh?

Flor.
The gov'nor! here's a go!

Leon.
Polixenes!

Polix.
Leontes! Best of friends! (they embrace.

Per. (aside.)
Here then my dream of bliss for ever ends.

Leon.
Can you forgive me then—Camillo too?
Come back once more—old fellow how d'ye do?
I am so glad to see you all—(dances about.)

Polix. (L. C.)
But hold,
'Tis time that we our bus'ness here unfold.
Come hither, boy!

Flor. (R.—leading Perdita forward.)
Well, here we are.

Polix.
We?

Flor.
We!

Leon. (L.)
As fair a couple as I'd wish to see.

Polix.
Peace!

Leon.
What's the matter?

Polix.
He's a traitor!

Leon.
What?
And that sweet princess—

Polix. (scornfully.)
Princess!

Leon.
Is she not?

Polix.
Leontes, she's a low-bred shepherd's daughter.

Leon. (looking at her.)
No? Well, she's not so pretty as I thought her.

Flor. (to him.)
Sir, plead for us. (both kneel.)

Leon.
I couldn't think of it.
Tear them asunder, guards! Enter Time, L.

Time.
Here, stop a bit!

Leon.
What means this interruption?

Time.
Stay, you'll see. Enter Blocus, L., carrying a bundle.

Time.
So—come at last. Here, give those things to me.

Take this—(offering bundle to Leontes.) thus all your late proceedings quashing;

Leon.
Sir, you're mistaken: we don't take in washing. (he turns away.

Time.
Come here, fair maid. (to Perdita.) Now all of you give ear,
While I the mystery of her birth make clear.

SONG,—Time, Air, “When the fair land of Poland.”—Bohemian Girl.
When this fair one on cold land without e'er a roof,
  But the sky was left helpless, alone,
This worthy old man, (of the fact I have proof,)
  Took her home—brought her up as his own.
One morn came a stranger, his fancy she caught,
  In two words, 'twas the youth at your side,
With palaver as usual the maiden he sought,
  She was wooed—she was won for his bride.
Her birth is noble, as of the best,
Among you all let this attest. (gives bundle to Leontes, C. Enter Autolycus at back, L. H.

Leon. (opening it.)
What do I see? a lot of baby's frocks!

Paul.
See, see, sir! don't you know those worsted socks?
These pinafores too! Oh, those stripes and checks—
And see one marked—Read, sir!— (holds up a baby's shirt.

Leon.
Leontes Rex!

Paul.
'Tis she—our Perdita! I shall go wild—
Leontes! Sir, it is your long-lost child! (she throws Perdita across into Leontes' arms.

Leon.
My child! I feel with joy my heart will burst. (looking at her.)
She's ten times prettier than I thought at first.

Flor.
When you've quite done with her—

Polix. (crossing to R. C., embraces Perdita, and hands her over to Florizel.)
Hah! that's your style.
I meant that he should have her all the while.

Leon. (to Blocus.)
Friend, for your goodness to her you shall find

Me not ungrateful. (holding out his hand.)

Aut. (taking it.)
Sir, you're very kind.
We've done the best we could for her.

Blocus. (aside to him.)
How we?

Aut.
Well never mind, old fellow—say 'twas me.

Leon.
I thank you both.

Aut.
That's right. I don't see why
I shouldn't have a finger in the pie. (shaking hands with Polixenes.
And how are you, sir—feel yourself the thing?

Polix.
Quite well.

Aut.
That's right. A civil sort of king! (Polixenes crosses to L.

Paul.
Your Majesties, if you will condescend
In my poor house the evening to spend,
I've something there to show you.

Leon.
Eh, what is it?

Paul.
Something that you will own is worth a visit.
A statue I've had years in preparation.
This day is fixed for its inauguration.

Leon.
But why this day?

Paul.
The oracles decree it
Should remain covered till this maid could see it.

Per.
Till I could see it?

Paul.
Ask no questions, dear.
You soon shall learn. Come, all of you.

Aut.
Hear, hear!

CONCERTED PIECE.—Autolycus, Leontes, Polixenes, Perdita, and Florizel. Air, “Statty Fair.” Aut.
  I'll make one! Leon.
And so will I! Polix.
  I, too, will be there, oh! Per.
And I'm all curiosity
  To see this statue fair, oh! Flor.
Statues in the streets abound,
  As you are aware, oh!
Never yet, tho' one I've found,
  To call a statue fair, oh! All.
Let's be off, this sight to see,
  Good ones are so rare, oh!

Novel at the least will be,
  To see a statue fair, oh! Exeunt, L. H. SCENE VII. —The Hall of the Statue. A room in Paulina's house.—C., a recess at some height from the ground, with steps leading to it—footlights in recess. A green curtain like that of a theatre hanging in the recess; R. and L., chairs for spectators. Enter a procession of Guards, Courtiers, Women, &c., Leontes, Polixenes, Camillo, Florizel, Perdita, Autolycus, Blocus, Paulina, &c. They take their seats, and two guards stand one on each side of the recess, like beef-eaters at the Royal box.

Paul.
Your Majesties, the honour you bestow
By this state visit on my humble show
On this its opening night—

Leon.
Nay, we'll dispense
With ceremony. ring up and commence.

Flor.
Don't keep us waiting, pray.

Paul.
Well, then, prepare.

Aut. (whistles.)
Go it!

Flor.
Be quiet in the gallery there.

Per.
I'm all impatience for this sight surprising.

Paul. (rings bell.)
Now then—slow music, for the curtain's rising. (The curtain rises from the recess, and discovers Hermione as a statue on a circular table.

Flor. (looking through ege-glass.)
Not bad, 'pon honour!

Per.
Beautiful! divine!

Leon.
Wonderful!

Aut.
Stunning!

Polix.
Marvellous!

Flor.
Dem fine! (statue revolves—music.

Leon. (L.)
Those eyes!—

Polix. (R.)
That nose!—

Leon.
That mouth!—

Polix.
That form!—

Leon.
That phiz

Polix.
It can't be!

Leon.
Is it?

Polix.
Yes!

Leon.
No!

Polix.
'Tisn't!

Leon.
'Tis!
Perdita, 'tis the image of your mother.

Per.
My mother!

Polix.
Like as one pea to another! (statue stops.)

Per.
Nay, then I'll speak to her. (goes and kneels to statue.

Leon.
What's she about

Per.
Oh, mother, you but little know I'm out
Of all my troubles now. (statue inclines its head.)

Flor.
It's very odd!
I could have sworn I saw the statue nod.

Paul.
Nod! This is madness! Shortly you'll be thinking
It winks as well.

Polix.
By heavens! it is winking. (statue sneezes.

Leon.
There, there! It lives, it breathes, say what you please,
Where's the fine chisel that can cut a sneeze.

Flor.
What means this mystery, beauteous figure speak,
Are you a statue or a pose plastique?
If living, why up there still silent sticking? (Music of the Grecian statues.—Hermione strikes various attitudes.

Leon.
See, see, she moves—she is alive.

Flor.
And kicking!

CONCERTED PIECE,—Florizel, Leontes, Perdita, Polixenes, and Hermione. Air,—“College Hornpipe.” Flor.
Well, of all queer sights that I ever did see,
This beats them all, to a certainty. Leon.
The more I look the more I feel 'tis my Hermione,
That used to sew my strings and tapes and bobbins on. Per. (to Paulina.)
Oh, madam, pray explain these things, of mystery so rife. Polix. (to Leontes.)
Sir, take her to your heart, and no more doubts and strife.

Leon.
But how, if it's my wife, did you bring her back to life? Her.
Why I arn't been dead at all like Jack Robinson. (she comes down from pedestal.

Her. (embracing Pedita.)
Kiss me, my pet—Leontes, how d'ye do? (holds out her hand.)
Once more am I on speaking terms with you.

Leon.
Why not before?

Her.
I by a vow was bound
Never to see you till our child was found.
We've much to say.

Flor.
No doubt, but time is pressing,
So cut it short, and just give us your blessing. (Perdita and Florizel kneel to Hermione, C.

Her.
Take it, my children—there! my daughter's thine.

Leon.
And take my blessing too.

Polix.
And mine!

Aut.
And mine!

Polix. (pulls Autolycus away. R.)
Be off.

Leon.
Then all is settled. Enter Time, L.

Time.
Stop! allow
Time, who works wonders, just to work one now. (to Leontes.)
You've found your wife. (to Paulina.)
Your husband still you miss.
Behold! Enter Antigonus, followed by the Bear, respectably dressed, L.

Paul.
'Tis be! (runs across to embrace him.)

Flor.
It may be, but who's this?
A bear? (Bear bows to the Company, and kisses Perdita's hand.

Per.
Good gracious! what extreme civility.

Flor.
You wouldn't think it a bare possibility.

Anti. (L.)
He took me home to dinner years ago,
I couldn't get away he pressed me so.
I tamed him—by degrees, his tastes advancing,
And finally instructed him in dancing.
Say, would you like to see him dance?

Flor.
I should?

If you, kind friends, (to Audience.) would only be so good
As furnish music. (indicates clapping.) Poor the best of bands,
To the sweet sound of your applauding hands;
Let us hear that, with joy; we all will then dance,
And nightly on your pleasure dance attendance.

FINALE.—Time, Hermione, and Florizel. Air,—“Pull away Cheerily,”—Russell. Time.
Then let us hear from you kindly—one cheer from you,
  Is all we want now our troubles to end. Her.
Don't be too hard on us—all our faults pardon us—
  Let us run on, p'raps in time we may mend. Flor.
If we've made free with the Bard we all venerate,
  'Tis that we prize him beyond all the rest,
Such is the way of the world, we, at any rate,
  Ever make freest with those we love best. Chorus.
Then let us hear from you kindly, &c. CURTAIN. Volume back matter Printed by T. Blower, 313, Strand.

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