SCENE VII.
Enter an old Shepherd.
&wlquo;Shep.
&wlquo;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,
-- 326 --
stealing, fighting—hark you now!—would
any but these boil'd brains of nineteen, and two
and twenty, hunt this weather? They have scar'd
away two of my best sheep, which, I fear, the
wolf will sooner find than the master; if any where
I have them, 'tis by the sea-side, brouzing of ivy.
Good luck, an't be thy will! what have we here?
[Taking up the child.] Mercy on's, a bearne! a very
pretty bearne! a boy, or a child, I wonder! a pretty
one, a very pretty one; sure, some 'scape: tho'
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:&wrquo; 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 hollow'd but even now; Whoa, ho-hoa!
Enter Clown.
Clo.
Hilloa, loa!—
Shep.
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?
Clo.
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.
Shep.
Why, boy, how is it?
&wlquo;Clo.
&wlquo;I would, you did but see how it chases, how it
rages, how it takes up the shore; but that's not to
the point; oh, 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 main-mast,
and anon swallow'd with yest and froth, as you'd
thrust a cork into a hogshead. 6 noteAnd then for the
-- 327 --
land-service.—to see how the bear tore out his
shoulder-bone, how he cry'd to me for help, and
said, his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to
make an end of the ship, to see how the sea flap-dragon'd
it. But first, how the poor souls roar'd,
and the sea mock'd them. And how the poor gentleman
roar'd, and the bear mock'd him; both
roaring louder than the sea, or weather.&wrquo;
Shep.
'Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
Clo.
Now, now, I have not wink'd since I saw these
sights; the men are not yet cold under water, nor the
bear half din'd on the gentleman; he's at it now.
Shep.
'Would, I had been by to have help'd the
old man.
Clo.
I would, you had been by the ship-side, to have
help'd her; there your charity would have lack'd footing.—
[Aside.
Shep.
Heavy matters, heavy matters! but look thee
here, boy. Now bless thyself; thou meet'st with things
dying, I with things new-born. 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 changling: open't; what's within, boy?
Clo.
You're a mad old man; if the sins of your
youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold!
all gold!—
Shep.
This is fairy gold, boy, and will prove so.
Up with it, keep it close: home, home, the next way.
We are lucky, boy; and to be so still, requires nothing
but secresie. Let my sheep go: come, good
boy, the next way home.
Clo.
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 never curst but
when they are hungry: if there be any of him left,
I'll bury it.
-- 328 --
Shep.
That's a good deed If thou may'st discern
by that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to
th' sight of him.
Clo.
Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him
i'th' ground.
Shep.
'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good
deeds on't.
[Exeunt.
Enter Time, as Chorus.
Time.
I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror
Of good and bad, that make 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, 7 note
and leave the gulf 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 I now may be
-- 329 --
In fair Bohemia; 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 wondring. 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,
If ever you have spent time worse ere now:
If never, yet that Time himself doth say,
He wishes earnestly, you never may.
[Exit.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
