Complete Plays, The Page 35

Her portion equal his.

  Florizel

  O, that must be

  I’ the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,

  I shall have more than you can dream of yet;

  Enough then for your wonder. But, come on,

  Contract us ’fore these witnesses.

  Shepherd

  Come, your hand;

  And, daughter, yours.

  Polixenes

  Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you;

  Have you a father?

  Florizel

  I have: but what of him?

  Polixenes

  Knows he of this?

  Florizel

  He neither does nor shall.

  Polixenes

  Methinks a father

  Is at the nuptial of his son a guest

  That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,

  Is not your father grown incapable

  Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid

  With age and altering rheums? can he speak? hear?

  Know man from man? dispute his own estate?

  Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing

  But what he did being childish?

  Florizel

  No, good sir;

  He has his health and ampler strength indeed

  Than most have of his age.

  Polixenes

  By my white beard,

  You offer him, if this be so, a wrong

  Something unfilial: reason my son

  Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason

  The father, all whose joy is nothing else

  But fair posterity, should hold some counsel

  In such a business.

  Florizel

  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.

  Polixenes

  Let him know’t.

  Florizel

  He shall not.

  Polixenes

  Prithee, let him.

  Florizel

  No, he must not.

  Shepherd

  Let him, my son: he shall not need to grieve

  At knowing of thy choice.

  Florizel

  Come, come, he must not.

  Mark our contract.

  Polixenes

  Mark your divorce, young sir,

  Discovering himself

  Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base

  To be acknowledged: thou a sceptre’s heir,

  That thus affect’st a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor,

  I am 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 copest with,—

  Shepherd

  O, my heart!

  Polixenes

  I’ll have thy beauty scratch’d with briers, and made

  More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,

  If I may ever know thou dost but sigh

  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 words:

  Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,

  Though 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 hoop his body more with thy embraces,

  I will devise a death as cruel for thee

  As thou art tender to’t.

  Exit

  Perdita

  Even here undone!

  I was not much afeard; for once or twice

  I was about to speak and tell him plainly,

  The selfsame sun that shines upon his court

  Hides not his visage from our cottage but

  Looks on alike. Will’t please you, sir, be gone?

  I told you what would come of this: beseech you,

  Of 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.

  Camillo

  Why, how now, father!

  Speak ere thou diest.

  Shepherd

  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 my father died,

  To lie close by his honest bones: but now

  Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me

  Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch,

  That knew’st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure

  To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone!

  If I might die within this hour, I have lived

  To die when I desire.

  Exit

  Florizel

  Why look you so upon me?

  I am but sorry, not afeard; delay’d,

  But nothing alter’d: what I was, I am;

  More straining on for plucking back, not following

  My leash unwillingly.

  Camillo

  Gracious my lord,

  You know your father’s temper: at this time

  He will allow no speech, which I do guess

  You do not purpose to him; and as hardly

  Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear:

  Then, till the fury of his highness settle,

  Come not before him.

  Florizel

  I not purpose it.

  I think, Camillo?

  Camillo

  Even he, my lord.

  Perdita

  How often have I told you ’twould be thus!

  How often said, my dignity would last

  But till ’twere known!

  Florizel

  It cannot fail but by

  The violation of my faith; and then

  Let nature crush the sides o’ the earth together

  And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks:

  From my succession wipe me, father; I

  Am heir to my affection.

  Camillo

  Be advised.

  Florizel

  I am, and by my fancy: if my reason

  Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

  If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,

  Do bid it welcome.

  Camillo

  This is desperate, sir.

  Florizel

  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 sea hides

  In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath

  To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you,

  As you have ever been my father’s honour’d 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 most opportune to our need I have

  A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared

  For this design. What course I mean to hold

  Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor

  Concern me the reporting.

  Camillo

  O my lord!


  I would your spirit were easier for advice,

  Or stronger for your need.

  Florizel

  Hark, Perdita

  Drawing her aside

  I’ll hear you by and by.

  Camillo

  He’s irremoveable,

  Resolved 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 sight again of dear Sicilia

  And that unhappy king, my master, whom

  I so much thirst to see.

  Florizel

  Now, good Camillo;

  I am so fraught with curious business that

  I leave out ceremony.

  Camillo

  Sir, I think

  You have heard of my poor services, i’ the love

  That I have borne your father?

  Florizel

  Very nobly

  Have you deserved: it is my father’s music

  To speak your deeds, not little of his care

  To have them recompensed as thought on.

  Camillo

  Well, my lord,

  If you may please to think I love the king

  And through him what is 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 heavens forefend!— your ruin; marry her,

  And, with my best endeavours in your absence,

  Your discontenting father strive to qualify

  And bring him up to liking.

  Florizel

  How, Camillo,

  May this, almost a miracle, be done?

  That I may call thee something more than man

  And after that trust to thee.

  Camillo

  Have you thought on

  A place whereto you’ll go?

  Florizel

  Not any yet:

  But as the unthought-on accident is guilty

  To what we wildly do, so we profess

  Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies

  Of every wind that blows.

  Camillo

  Then list to me:

  This follows, if you will not change your purpose

  But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia,

  And there present yourself 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’ the father’s person; kisses the hands

  Of your fresh princess; o’er and o’er divides him

  ’Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one

  He chides to hell and bids the other grow

  Faster than thought or time.

  Florizel

  Worthy Camillo,

  What colour for my visitation shall I

  Hold up before him?

  Camillo

  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:

  The which shall point you forth at every sitting

  What you must say; that he shall not perceive

  But that you have your father’s bosom there

  And speak his very heart.

  Florizel

  I am bound to you:

  There is some sap in this.

  Camillo

  A cause more promising

  Than a wild dedication of yourselves

  To unpath’d waters, undream’d shores, most certain

  To miseries enough; no hope to help you,

  But as you shake off one to take another;

  Nothing so certain as your anchors, who

  Do their best office, if they can but stay you

  Where you’ll be loath to be: besides you know

  Prosperity’s the very bond of love,

  Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together

  Affliction alters.

  Perdita

  One of these is true:

  I think affliction may subdue the cheek,

  But not take in the mind.

  Camillo

  Yea, say you so?

  There shall not at your father’s house these seven years

  Be born another such.

  Florizel

  My good Camillo,

  She is as forward of her breeding as

  She is i’ the rear our birth.

  Camillo

  I cannot say ’tis pity

  She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress

  To most that teach.

  Perdita

  Your pardon, sir; for this

  I’ll blush you thanks.

  Florizel

  My prettiest Perdita!

  But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo,

  Preserver of my father, now of me,

  The medicine of our house, how shall we do?

  We are not furnish’d like Bohemia’s son,

  Nor shall appear in Sicilia.

  Camillo

  My lord,

  Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes

  Do all lie there: it shall be so my care

  To have you royally appointed as if

  The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,

  That you may know you shall not want, one word.

  They talk aside

  Re-enter Autolycus

  Autolycus

  Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer: by which means I saw whose purse was best in picture; and what I saw, to my good use I remembered. My clown, who wants but something to be a reasonable man, grew so in love with the wenches’ song, that he would not stir his pettitoes till he had both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the herd to me that all their other senses stuck in ears: you might have pinched a placket, it was senseless; ’twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a purse; I could have filed keys off that hung in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sir’s song, and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their festival purses; and had not the old man come in with a whoo-bub against his daughter and the king’s son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the whole army.

  Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward

  Camillo

  Nay, but my letters, by this means being there

  So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.

  Florizel

  And those that you’ll procure from King Leontes —

  Camillo

  Shall satisfy your father.

  Perdita

  Happy be you!

  All that you speak shows fair.

  Camillo

  Who have we here?

  Seeing Autolycus

  We’ll make an instrument of this, omit

  Nothing may give us aid.

  Autolycus

  If they have overheard me now, why, hanging.

  Camillo

  How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear not, man; her
e’s no harm intended to thee.

  Autolycus

  I am a poor fellow, sir.

  Camillo

  Why, be so still; here’s nobody will steal that from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly, — thou must think there’s a necessity in’t,— and change garments with this gentleman: though the pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee, there’s some boot.

  Autolycus

  I am a poor fellow, sir.

  Aside

  I know ye well enough.

  Camillo

  Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half flayed already.

  Autolycus

  Are you in earnest, sir?

  Aside

  I smell the trick on’t.

  Florizel

  Dispatch, I prithee.

  Autolycus

  Indeed, I have had earnest: but I cannot with conscience take it.

  Camillo

  Unbuckle, unbuckle.

  Florizel and Autolycus exchange garments

  Fortunate mistress,— let my prophecy

  Come home to ye!— you must retire yourself

  Into some covert: take your sweetheart’s hat

  And pluck it o’er your brows, muffle your face,

  Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken

  The truth of your own seeming; that you may —

  For I do fear eyes over — to shipboard

  Get undescried.

  Perdita

  I see the play so lies

  That I must bear a part.

  Camillo

  No remedy.

  Have you done there?

  Florizel

  Should I now meet my father,

  He would not call me son.

  Camillo

  Nay, you shall have no hat.

  Giving it to Perdita

  Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend.

  Autolycus

  Adieu, sir.

  Florizel

  O Perdita, what have we twain forgot!

  Pray you, a word.

  Camillo

  [Aside] What I do next, shall be to tell the king

  Of this escape and whither they are bound;

  Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail

  To force him after: in whose company

  I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight

  I have a woman’s longing.

  Florizel

  Fortune speed us!

  Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side.

  Camillo

  The swifter speed the better.

  Exeunt Florizel, Perdita, and Camillo

  Autolycus

  I understand the business, I hear it: to have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been without boot! What a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of iniquity, stealing away from his father with his clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not do’t: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my profession.