Per.
Even here undone:
I was not much afraid; for once or twice
I was about to speak, and tell him plainly,
The self-same sun that shines upon his court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike. Wilt please you, Sir, be gone? [To Flo.
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.

Cam.
Why how now, father?
Speak ere thou diest.

Shep.
I cannot speak, nor think,
Nor dare to know that which I know. O Sir, [To Flo.
You have undone a man of fourscore three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,

To die upon the bed my father dy'd,
To lye close by his honest bones; but now
Some hangman must put on my shroud, and lay me
Where no priest shovels in dust. Oh cursed wretch! [To Perdita.
That knew'st this was the prince, and would'st adventure
To mingle faith with him. Undone, undone!
If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd
To die when I desire. [Exit.

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