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I would your spirit were eafier for advice,
Or ftronger før your need.
Flo. Hark, Perdita.-
I'll hear you by and by.

Cam. He's irremovable,

[To Camillo.

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 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 speak your deeds, not little of his care
To have them recompens'd, as thought on.
Cam. Well, my Lord,

If you may pleafe to think I love the King,


And thorough him, what's near'ft 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, 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 difcontented father I'll ftrive to qualify,
And bring him up to liking.

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


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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
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 yourfelf, and your fair Princefs
(For fo, I fee, fhe muft 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; afks thee, the fon, forgiveness,
As 'twere i'th' father's perfon; kiffes the hands
o'er and o'er divides him,
'Twixt his unkindness, and his kindness: th' one


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,
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 must 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 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
Befitting this firft meeting.

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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,
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 stay you
Where you'll be loth to be: befides, you know,
Profperity's the very bond of love,

Whofe fresh complexion and whofe 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 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
To moft that teach.

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
Do all lie there: it fhall be fo my care

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.


Enter Autolicus.

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
Cam. Shall fatisfy your father.

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.


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All that you fpeak fhews fair.

Cam. Who have we here?

[Seeing Autolicus.

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,
Why fhak'st thou fo? fear not, man,
Here's no harm intended to thee.
Aut. I am a poor fellow, Sir.


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.)-
Flo. Difpatch I pr'ythee.


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
Into fome covert; take your fweet-heart's hat,
And pluck it o'er your brows; muffle your face,
Dismantle you; and, as you can, disliken
The truth of your own feeming; that you may
(For I do fear eyes over you) to ship-board!
Get undifery'd.

Per. I fee, the play fo lies,

That I must bear a part.
Cam. No remedy-

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.


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