Then, 'till the fury of his Highness fettle,

Come not before him.

Flo. I not purpose it.

I think, Camillo

Cam. Even he, my Lord.

Per. How often have I told you, 'twould be thus ? How often faid, my dignity would laft

But 'till 'twere known?

Flo. It cannot fail, but by

The violation of my faith, and then

Let Nature crush the fides o'th' earth together,
And mar the feeds within!-Lift up thy looks!
From my fucceffion wipe me, father, I

Am heir to my affection.

Cam. Be advis'd.

Flo. I am; and by my fancy; if my reafon
Will thereto be obedient, I have reafon ;

If not, my fenfes, better pleas'd with madnefs,
Do bid it welcome.

Cam. This is defperate, Sir.

Flo. So call it; but it does fulfil my vow;

I needs must think it honefty.

Camillo,

Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may

Be thereat glean'd; for all the fun fees, or
The clofe earth wombs, or the profound feas hide
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
To this my fair belov'd: therefore, I pray you,
As you have ever been my father's friend,

When he shall mifs me, (as, in faith, I mean not
To fee him any more) caft your good counfels
Upon his paffion; let myfelf and fortune

Tug

for the time to come. This you may know, And fo deliver, I am put to fea

With her, whom here I cannot hold on fhore;
And, moft opportune to our need, I have

A veffel rides faft by, but not prepar'd

For this defign. What courfe I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.

Cam. O my Lord,

VOL. III.

3

314

I would your fpirit were eafier for advice,
Or ftronger for your need.

Flo. Hark, Perdita.-
I'll hear you by and by.

Cam. He's irremovable,

[To Camille.

Refolv'd for flight: now were I happy, if
His going I could frame to ferve my turn;
Save him from danger, do him love and honour;
Purchase the fight again of dear Sicilia,

And that unhappy King, my master, whom
I fo much thirst to fee.

Fio. Now, good Camillo;

I am fo fraught with curious bufinefs, that
I leave out ceremony.

Cam. Sir, I think,

You have heard of my poor fervices, i'th' love
That I have born your father?

Flo. Very nobly

Have you deferv'd it is my father's mufick
To fpeak your deeds, not little of his care
To have them recompénc'd, as thought on.
Cam. Well, my Lord,

[Afide.

If you may pleafe to think I love the King,
And thorough him, what's neareft to him, which is
Your gracious felf, embrace but my direction;
(If your more ponderous and fettled project
May fuffer alteration,) on mine honour,

I'll point you where you fhall have fuch receiving
As fhall become your Highnefs, where you may
Enjoy your miftrefs; from the whom, Í fee,
There's no disjunction to be made, but by
(As, heav'ns forefend!) your ruin. Marry her,
And with my best endeavours, in your abfence,
Your difcontented father I'll ftrive to qualify,
And bring him up to liking.

Flo. How, Camillo,

May this, almoft a miracle, be done?

may

That I cal thee fomething more than man,
And after that truft to thee?

Cam. Have you thought on

A

A place whereto you'll go?

Flo. Not any yet:

But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty.

Of what we wildly do, fo we profess

Ourselves to be the flaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.

Cam. Then lift to me:

This follows, if you will not change your purpose,
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia;
And there present yourself, and your fair Princess
(For fo, I fee, fhe must be) 'fore Leontes;
She fhall be habited, as it becomes

The partner of your bed. Methinks, I fee
Leontes opening his free arms, and weeping
His welcomes forth; afks thee, the fon, forgiveness,
As 'twere i'th' father's perfon; kiffes the hands
Of your fresh Princefs; o'er and o'er divides him,
"Twixt his unkindness, and his kindness: th' one
He chides to hell, and bids the other grow
Fafter than thought or time.

Flo. Worthy Camillo,

What colour for my vifitation fhall I
Hold up before him?

Cam. Sent by the King your father

To greet him, and to give him comforts. Sir,
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
What you, as from your father, fhall deliver,

Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down; (28)
The which fhall point you forth at every fitting,
What you muft fay; that he fhall not perceive,
But that you have your father's bofom there,
And speak his very heart.

(28) Things known betwixt us three I'll write you down,
The which fhall point you forth at ev'ry fitting,

What you must fay;-] Every fitting, methinks, gives but a very poor idea. Every fitting, as I have ventur'd to correct the text, means, ev'ry convenient opportunity; every juncture, when it is fit to fpcak of fuch, or fuch, a point. So, in the Tempest,

For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting.

02

Flo.

Flo. I am bound to you:

There is fome fap in this.

Cam. A courfe more promifing
Than a wild dedication of yourselves

To unpath'd waters, undream'd fhores; moft certain,
To miferies enough: no hope to help you,
But as you shake off one, to take another:
Nothing fo certain as your anchors, who
Do their best office, if they can but ftay you
Where you'll be loth to be: befides, you know,
Profperity's the very bond of love,

Whofe fresh complexion and whose heart together
Affliction alters.

Per. One of these is true:

I think, affliction may fubdue the cheek,
But not take in the mind.

Cam. Yea, fay you fo?

There shall not at your father's house, these seven years, Be born another fuch.

Flo. My good Camillo,·

She is as forward of her breeding, as

She is i'th' rear o' our birth.

Cam. I cannot fay, 'tis pity

She lacks inftructions, for the feems a miftrefs
To moft that teach.

Per. Your pardon, Sir, for this:

I'll blush you thanks,

Flo. My prettieft Perdita

But, oh, the thorns we ftand upon! Camillo,

Preferver of my father, now of me;

The medicine of our houfe! how fhall we do?

We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's fon,

Nor fhall appear in Sicilia

Cam. My Lord,

Fear none of this: I think, you know, my fortunes Do all lie there: it fhall be fo my care

'To have you royally appointed, as if

The fcene, you play, were mine. For inftance, Sir,

know you

fhall not want; one word.

Enter Autolicus.

Aut. Ha, ha, what a fool honesty is! and truft, his fworn brother, a very fimple gentleman! I have fold all my trumpery; (29) not a counterfeit ftone, not a ribbon, glafs, pomander, browch, table book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, fhoe-tye, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fafting: they throng who should buy firit, as if my trinkets had been hallowed, and brought a benediction to the buyer; by which means, I faw whofe purfe was beft in picture; and what I faw, to my good ufe, I remember'd. My good clown (who wants but fomething to be a reasonable man) grew fo in love with the wenches fong, that he would not flir his pettitoes 'till he had both tune and words; which fo drew the rest of the herd to me, that all their other fenfes stuck in ears; you might have pinch'd a placket, it was fenfelefs; 'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a purfe; I would have filed keys off, that hung in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my Sir's fong, and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy, I pick'd and cut most of their feftival purfes: and had not the old man come in with a whoo-bub against his. daughter and the King's fon, and fear'd my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purfe alive in the whole army. [Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward. Cam. Nay; but my letters by this means being there, So foon as you arrive, fhall clear that doubt.

Flo. And thofe that you'll procure from King LeontesCam. Shall fatisfy your father.

Per. Happy be you!

(29) Not a counterfeit ftone, not a ribbon, &c. to keep my pack from faftning.] But thefe wares, all together, would not keep the pack from faftning, unless they crouded it fo, that it could not fhut close. The error is as old as the second folio edition, and from thence continued down. Mr. Pope, who pretends to have collated impreffions, might have obferv'd that the firft folio has it, as I have corrected, fafting. The metaphor is taken from those who have no provifion left. His pack, as it would hold a great deal, might be call'd a devouring pack : and being now emptied of all its food, it might figuratively be faid to have nothing left to flay its ftomach. 0 3

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