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I would your spirit were eafier for advice,
Cam. He's irremovable,
Refolv'd for flight: now were I happy, if
And that unhappy King, my mafter, whom
Flo. Now, good Camillo;
I am fo fraught with curious bufinefs, that
Cam. Sir, I think,
You have heard of my poor fervices, i'th' love
Flo. Very nobly.
deferv'd: it is my father's mufick
To speak your deeds, not little of his care
If you may pleafe to think I love the King,
And thorough him, what's near'ft to him, which is
I'll point you where you fhall have fuch receiving
rlo. How, Camillo,
I lay this, almoft a miracle, be done?
hat I may call thee fomething more than man, iter that truft to thee?
Cum. 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 profefs
Ourselves to be the flaves of chance, and flies
Cam. Then lift to me:
This follows, if you will not change your purpose,
The partner of your bed. Methinks, I fee
your fresh Princefs
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,
And speak his very heart.
(28) Things known betwixt us three I'll write you down, The which fall 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 t› speak 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
Fl. 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 most certain,
Whofe fresh complexion and whofe heart together
Per. One of these is true:
I think, affliction may fubdue the cheek,
Cam Yea, fay you fo?
There fhall not at your father's houfe, these seven
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 mistress
Per. Your pardon, Sir, for this:
I'll blufh you thanks.
Flo. My prettiest 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
To have you royally appointed, as if
The ene, you play, were mine. For inftance, Sir, That you may know you shall not want; one word.. [They talk afde.
Aut. Ha, ha, what a fool honefty is! and truft, his Sworn 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 first, as if my trinkets had been hollowed, 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 ftir his pettitoes 'till he had both tune and words; which fo drew the reft of the herd to me, that all their other fenfes ftuck 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 admir ing the nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy, I pick'd and cut most of their festival 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 purse 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 Leontes
Per. Happy be you!
(29) Not a counterfeit fione, not a ribbon, &c. to keep my pack from fafning.] But thefe wares, all together, would not keep the packa from fafning, unless they crouded it fo, that it could not shut 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 thofe 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 said to have nothing left to stay its ftomach.
All that you fpeak fhews fair.
Cam. Who have we here?
We'll make an inftrument of this; omit
Nothing may give us aid.
Aut. If they have over-heard me now: why, hanging.
Cam. How now, good fellow,
Cam. Why, be fo ftill; here's nobody will steal that from thee; yet for the outfide of thy property, we must make an exchange; therefore difcafe thee inftantly: (thou muft think, there's a neceffity in't) and change garments with this gentleman: tho' the pennyworth, on his fide, be the worst, yet hold thee, there's fome boot. Aut. I am a poor fellow, Sir; (I know ye well enough.) Cam. Nay, pr'ythee, difpatch: the gentleman is half flead already.
Aut. Are you in earnest, Sir? (I fmell the trick on't.)-
Aut. Indeed, I have had earnest, but I cannot with confcience take it.
Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle.
Fortunate miftrefs! (let my prophecy
Come home to ye,) you must retire yourself
Per. I fee, the play fo lies,
That I must bear a part.
Have you done there?
Flo. Should I now meet my father,
He would not call me fon.
Cam. Nay, you fhall have no hat:
Come, Lady, come: farewel, my friend.