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Something unfilial : Reason, my son
Should chase himself a wife; but as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else
But fair pofterity) should hold some counsel
In such a business.
Flo. I yield all this
But for some 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 shall not.
Pol. Prythee, let him.
Flo. No; he must not.
Shep. Let him, my son, he shall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice.
Flo. Come, come, he must not :
Mark our contract.
Pol. Mark your divorce, young Sir,
Whom son I dare not call : thou art too base
To be acknowledg’d. Thou a fcepter's heir,
That thus affect'ft a sheep-hook! Thou old traytor,
I'm sorry, 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 coapist with
Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briars, and
More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,
If I may ever know thou doft but figh
That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never
I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from succession ;
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Far than Deucalion off : mark thou my
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 herdsman; 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 devise 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 speak, and tell him plainly,
The self-fame sun, that shines upon this court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike. Wilt please you, Sir, be gone?
To Florizel. I told you, what would come of this. 'Beseech you,
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 dieft.
Shep. I cannot speak, nor think,
Nor dare to know That which I know. O Sir,
You have undone a man of fourscore three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet ; yea,
To die upon the bed
To lye close by his honeft bones; but now
Some hangman must put on my shrowd, and lay me
Where no priest shovels in duft. O cursed 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 desire.
Flo. Why look
I am but sorry, 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 speech, (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 said, 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 seeds within !--Lift up thy looks !-
succession wipe me, father, I Ain 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 senses, 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 honesty. Camillo; Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that
may Be thereat glean'd; for all the sun sees, or
The close earth wombs, or the profound feas hide 1 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 see him any more) cast your good counsels * Upon his passion ; let myself and fortune
Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
And so deliver, I am put to sea
With her, whom here I cannot hold on shore ;
And, moft opportune to our need, I have
A vessel rides faft by, but not prepar'd
For this design. What course I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.
Cam. O my lord,
I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for need.
Fl. Hark, Perdita-
I'll hear you by and by:
[To Cam. Cam. He's irremovable, Resolv'd for flight: now were I happy, if His going I could frame to serve 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 so much thirft to see.
Flo. Now, good Camillo ;
I am so fraught with curious business, that
I leave out ceremony;
Cam. Sir, I think,
You have heard of my poor services, i'th' love
That I have borne your father?
Flo. Very nobly
Have you deserv'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 self, embrace but my direction ;
(If your more ponderous and settled project
May suffer alteration,) on mine honour,
I'll point you where you shall have such receiving
As shall become your highness, where you may
Enjoy your mistress; from the whom, I see,
There's no disjunction to be made, but by
(As, heav'ns forefend !) your ruin. Marry her,
And with my best endeavours, in your ablence,
Your discontented father I'll strive to qualifie,
And bring him up to liking.
Flo. How, Camillo,
May this, almost a miracle, be done?
call thee something more than man, And after That trust 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, so we profels
Our selves to be the slaves of chance, and Alies
Of every wind that blows.
Cam. Then lift to me:
This follows, if you will not change your purpose,
But undergo this Aight, make for Sicilia ;
And there present your self, and your fair Princess
(For so, I see, she must be) 'fore Leontes ;
She shall be habited, as it becomes
The partner of your bed. Methinks, I see
Leontes opening his free arms, and weeping
His welcomes forth ; asks thee, the son, forgiveness,
As 'twere i'th' father's person; kisses the hands
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 visitation 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, shall deliver,
Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down ;(15)
The which shall point you forth at every fitting,
What you must say; that he shall not perceive,
But that you have your father's bosom there,
(15) Things known betwixt us three I'll write you down,
The which shall point you forth at ev'ry sitting,
What you must say ;-) Every Sitting, methinks, gives but a very poor Idea. Every firting, as I have ventur'd to correct the Text, means, ev'ry convenient Opportunity: every Jundture, when it is fit to Ipeak of such, or such, a Point.