(9) Shep. 'Would, I had been by to have help'd the

nobleman.

Clo. I would, you had been by the fhip-fide, to have help'd her; there your charity would have lack'd footing.[Afide.

Shep. Heavy matters, heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now bless thyfelf; thou meet'ft with things dying, I with things new-born. Here's a fight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a fquire's child! look thee here; take up, take up, boy, open't; fo, let's fee: it was told me, I fhould be rich by the fairies. This is fome changling: open't; what's within, boy?

(10) Clo. You're a made old man; if the fins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!

Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and will prove fo. Up with it, keep it clofe: home, home, the next way. We are lucky, boy; and to be fo ftill, requires nothing but fecrefie. Let my sheep go: come, good boy, the next way home.

Clo. Go you the next way with your findings, I'll go fee if the Bear be gone from the gentleman; and how much he hath eaten: they are never curft but when they are hungry if there be any of him left, I'll bury it.

Shep. That's a good deed. If thou may'st discern by

(9) Shep. Would, I had been by to have help'd the old Man.] Tho' all the printed Copies concur in this reading, I am perfuaded, we ought to restore, Nobleman. The Shepherd knew nothing of Antigonus's Age; befides, the Clown had just told his Father, that he faid, his Name was Antigonus a Nobleman, and no less than three times in this fhort Scene, the Clown, fpeaking of him, calls him the Gentleman.

(10) Tou're a mad old Man; if the Sins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all Gold!] This the Clown fays upon his opening his Fardel, and difcovering the Wealth in it. But this is no Reafon why he should call his Father a mad old Man. I have ventur'd to correct in the Text.You're a made old Man: i. e. your Fortune's made by this adventitious Treasure. So our Poet, in a Number of other Paffages.

that

that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to th fight of him.

Clo. Marry, will I; and you fhall help to put him i'th' ground.

Shep. 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds [Exeunt.

on't.

Enter Time, as Chorus.

Time. I, that please fome, try all, both joy and

terror

Of good and bad, that mask and unfold error; (11)
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
To ufe my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me, or my fwift paffage, that I flide
O'er fixteen years, and leave the growth untry'd
Of that wide gap; fince it is in my power
To o'erthrow law, and in one felf-born hour
To plant and o'erwhelm cuftom. Let me pafs
The fame I am, ere ancient'ft 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 ftale
The gliftering of this prefent, as my tale
Now feems to it: your patience this allowing,
I turn my glafs; and give my fcene fuch growing,
As you had flept between. Leontes leaving
Th' effects of his fond jealoufies, fo grieving
That he fhuts up himself; imagine me,
Gentle fpectators, that I now may be
In fair Bohemia; and remember well,

I mention here a fon o'th' King's whom Florizel
I now name to you; and with speed so pace
To fpeak of Perdita, now grown in grace

(11) -That make and unfold Error.] This does not in my Opinion take in the Poet's Thought. Time does not make mistakes, and difcover them, at different Conjunctures; but the Poet means, that Time often for a Season covers Errors, which he afterwards displays and brings to Light. I chufe therefore to read;

that maske and unfold Error.

Equal

Equal with wondring. What of her enfues,
I lift not prophefie. But let Time's news

Be known, when 'tis brought forth. A fhepherd's daughter,
And what to her adheres, which follows after,
Is th' argument of time; of this allow,
If ever you have spent time worfe ere now:
If never, yet that Time himself doth say,
He wishes earnestly, you never may.

[Exit.

SCENE, the Court of Bohemia.

Enter Polixenes and Camillo.

POLIXENES.

'tis a fickness denying thee any thing, a death to grant this.

Cam. It is fifteen years fince I faw my country; though I have for the most part been aired abroad, I defire to lay my bones there. Befides, the penitent King, my mafter, hath fent for me; to whofe feeling forrows I might be fome allay, or I o'erween to think fo, which is another fpur to my departure.

3

Pol. As thou lov'it me, Camillo, wipe not out the reft of thy fervices by leaving me now; the need I have of thee, thine own goodness hath made: better not to have had thee, than thus to want thee. Thou having made me bufineffes, which none, without thee, can fufficiently manage, muft either ftay to execute them thy felf, or take away with thee the very fervices thou haft done; which if I have not enough confider'd, (as too much I' cannot,) to be more thankful to thee fhall be my study; and my profit therein, the heaping friendships. Of that fatal country Sicilia, pr'ythee, fpeak no more; whofe very naming punishes me with the remembrance of that

penitent,

penitent, as thou call'ft him, and reconciled King my brother, whose lofs of his moft precious Queen and children are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when faw'st thou the Prince Florizel my fon? Kings are no lefs unhappy, their iffue not being gracious, than they are in lofing them, when they have approved their virtues.

Cam. Sir, it is three days fince I faw the Prince ; what his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown : but I have (miffingly) noted, he is of late much retired from court, and is lefs frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he hath appear'd. )

Pol. I have confider'd fo much, Camillo, and with fome care fo far, that I have eyes under my service, which look upon his removedness; from whom I have this intelligence, that he is feldom from the house of a most homely shepherd; a man, they fay, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unfpeakable eitate.

Cam. I have heard, Sir, of fuch a man, who hath a daughter of moft rare note; the report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage.

Pol. (12) That's likewife a part of my intelligence; and, I fear, the Engle that plucks our fon thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place, where we will (not ap

(12) That's likewife part of my Intelligence; but, I fear the Angle that plucks our Son thither.] The disjunctive here, I think, makes ftark Nonfence of the Context: and the Editors have palm'd an Allufion in the Word Angle, which seems foreign to the Senfe of the Paffage. As, before, in the Taming of the Shrew, Angel is mistakenly put for Engle: fo, I fufpect, Angle, by the fame eafy Corruption, is here. I have there prov'd the Ufe and Meaning of the Word. I'll proceed briefly to justify the Emendation I have here made, by shewing how naturally it falls in with the Senfe we fhould expect. Camillo had just told the King, he had heard of fuch a Shepherd, and of a Daughter he had of moft rare Note. Ay, replies the King, that's a Part of my Intelligence too; and, I fear, [that Daughter is] the Siren, the Decoy, the Invitation, that plucks our Son thither.

pearing

pearing what we are) have fome question with the fhepherd; from whofe fimplicity, I think it not uneafie to get the cause of my fon's refort thither. Pr'ythee, be my present partner in this business, and lay afide the thoughts of Sicilia.

Cam. I willingly obey your command.

Pol. My belt Camillo-we must disguise our selves.

SCENE changes to the Country.

Enter Autolicus finging.

HEN daffadils begin to peere,

WHE With, heigh! the doxy over the dale,

Why, then comes in the fweet o' th' year;

For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,

[Exeunt.

With, hey! the fweet birds, O how they fing! Doth fet my pugging tooth on edge:

For a quart of ale is a difb for a king.

The lark, that tirra-lyra chaunts,

With, hey! with, hey! the thrush and the jay: Are fummer fongs for me and my aunts,

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

I have ferved Prince Florizel, and in my time wore three-pile, but now I am out of service.

But fhall I go mourn for that, my dear?
The pale moon shines by night:

And when I wander here and there,
I then do go moft right.

If tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the fow-skin budget;
Then my account I well may give,
And in the flocks avouch it.

My traffick is fheets; when the kite builds, look to leffer linnen. My father nam'd me Autolicus, being litter'd under Mercury; who, as I am, was likewife a fnapperup of unconfider'd trifles: with die and drab, I purchas'd this caparifon; and my revenue is the filly cheat. Gallows, and knock, are too powerful on the high-way; V O L. III.

N

beatir