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.

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