Something unfilial: Reafon, my fon
Should chufe himself a wife; but as good reason,
The father (all whofe joy is nothing else
But fair pofterity) fhould hold fome counfel
In fuch a business.
But for fome other reasons, my grave Sir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this business.
Pol. Let him know't.
Flo. He fhall not.
Pol. Pr'ythee, let him.
Flo. No; he must not..
Shep. Let him, my fon, he fhall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice.
Flo. Come, come, he muft not:
Mark our contract.
Pol. Mark your divorce, young Sir,
[Difcovering himself. Whom fon I dare not call: thou art too base To be acknowledg'd. Thou a fcepter's heir, That thus affect'ft a fheep-hook! Thou old traytor, I'm forry, that, by hanging thee, I can but Shorten thy life one week. And thou fresh piece Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know The royal fool thou coap'ft with
Pol. I'll have thy beauty fcratch'd with briars, and
made
More homely than thy ftate. For thee, fond boy,
If I may ever know thou doft but figh
That thou no more fhalt fee this knack, as never
I mean thou fhalt, we'll bar thee from fucceffion;
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Far than Deucalion off: mark thou my words;
Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,
Tho' full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it: and you, enchantment,
Worthy enough a herdfman; yea him too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee; if ever, henceforth, thou
These rural latches to his entrance open,
Or hoope his body more with thy embraces,
I will devife a death as cruel for thee,
As thou art tender to it.
Per. Even here undone :
I was not much afraid; for once or twice
I was about to fpeak, and tell him plainly,
The self-fame fun, that shines upon
this court,
Hides not his vifage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike. Wilt please you, Sir, be gone?
[To Florizel.
I told you, what would come of this. 'Befeech you,
Of your own ftate 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 dieft.
Shep. I cannot fpeak, nor think,
Nor dare to know That which I know. O Sir,
You have undone a man of four core three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,
To die upon the bed my father dy'd,
To lye close by his honeft bones; but now
Some hangman must put on my fhrowd, and lay me
Where no priest shovels in duft. O curfed wretch !
[To Perdita. That knew'ft, This was the Prince; and would'ft ad
To mingle faith with him. Undone, undone!
If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd
To die when I defire.
Flo. Why look you fo upon me?
I am but forry, not afraid; delay'd,
But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am;
More ftraining on, for plucking back; not following
My leash unwillingly.
Cam. Gracious my Lord,
You know your father's temper: at this time
He will allow no fpeech, (which I do guess,
You do not purpofe to him ;) and as hardly
Will he endure your fight, as yet I fear;
Then, 'till the fury of his Highness settle,
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 last
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 reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
If not, my fenfes, better pleas'd with madness,
Do bid it welcome.
Cam. This is desperate, 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 fadoms, 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 miss me, (as, in faith, I mean not
To fee him any more) caft your good counfels
Upon his paffion; let myself 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.
I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or ftronger for
Flo. Hark, Perdita-
I'll hear you by and by.
Cam. He's irremovable,
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 mafter, whom
I fo much thirst to fee.
Flo. Now, good Camillo;
I am fo fraught with curious business, that
I leave out ceremony.
You have heard of my poor fervices, i'th' love
That I have borne your father?
Have you deferv'd: it is my father's mufick
To speak your deeds, not little of his care
To have them recompenc'd, as thought on.
Cam. Well, my lord,
If you may please to think I love the King,
And through him, what's nearest to him, which is
Your gracious felf, embrace but my direction;
(If your more ponderous and settled project
May fuffer alteration,) on mine honour,
I'll point you where you fhall have fuch receiving
As fhall become your highness, where you may
Enjoy your mistrefs; from the whom, I 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 discontented father I'll strive to qualifie,
And bring him up to liking.
Flo. How, Camillo,
May this, almoft a miracle, be done?
That I may call thee fomething more than man,
And after That truft to thee?
Cam. Have you thought on
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
Our felves to be the flaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.
This follows, if you will not change your purpose,
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia ;
And there prefent your felf, and your fair Princess
(For fo, I fee, she must be) 'fore Leontes;
She shall be habited, as it becomes
The partner of your bed. Methinks, I fee
Leontes opening his free arms, and weeping
His welcomes forth; asks thee, the fon, forgiveness,'
As 'twere i'th' father's perfon; kiffes the hands
Of your fresh Princess; 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 shall 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;(15)
The which fhall point you forth at every fitting,
What you must fay; that he fhall not perceive,
But that you have your father's bofom there,
(15) Things known betwixt us three I'll write you down,
The which shall point you forth at ev'ry fitting,
What you must say ;-] Every Sitting, 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 speak of such, or such, a Point.
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