You have found an item located in the Kentuckiana Digital Library.
Winter's tale; a comedy in five acts / by William Shakespeare, as arranged by Miss Mary Anderson ; with illustrations by Edwin John Ellis & Joseph Anderson, and selections from the incidental music by Andrew Levey.
Winter's tale; a comedy in five acts / by William Shakespeare, as arranged by Miss Mary Anderson ; with illustrations by Edwin John Ellis & Joseph Anderson, and selections from the incidental music by Andrew Levey. Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2002 b92-272-32006987 Electronic reproduction. 2002. (Beyond the shelf, serving historic Kentuckiana through virtual access (IMLS LG-03-02-0012-02) ; These pages may be freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Winter's tale; a comedy in five acts / by William Shakespeare, as arranged by Miss Mary Anderson ; with illustrations by Edwin John Ellis & Joseph Anderson, and selections from the incidental music by Andrew Levey. Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Field & Tuer ; Scribner & Welford, London : New York : [c1888] 56 p.,  leaves of plates (part col.) : ill., music ; 17 x 25 cm. Coleman Microfilm. Atlanta, Ga. : SOLINET, 1995. 1 microfilm reel ; 35 mm. (SOLINET/ASERL Cooperative Microfilming Project (NEH PS-20317) ; SOL MN05117.01 KUK) Printing Master B92-272. IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. Anderson, Mary, 1859-1940. t U 5 AS 'PERFORME-D BY " itt 55m tTlXStPHi ANDERSON This page in the original text is blank. THE WINTER'S TALE. This page in the original text is blank. he X3ite 0 inter's bale A Comedy in Five A5s, HY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, AS ARRANGED BY Miss Mtarg Anderson, wrru ILLUSTRATIONS 1W Edwin John Ellis Q Joseph Anderson, AND) SELEcTIONS FROM THE INCIDENTAL MUSIC BY ANDREW LEVEY. LONCfD ON: Field & Tuer, The Leadenhall 'Press, S.C. -New York : Scribner & We/ford. COPYRIGHT I 888 By MARY ANDERSON AND JOSEPH ANDERSON. PREFACE. H& following stage-cdition of "A WVINTER'S TALE," like its various prede- cessors, may be said to aim at keeping as close to the original play as is compatible with the requirements of the theatre and the no less exacting demands of modern taste. Of the larger excisions it is unnecessary to speak, they are unavoidable; no audience of these days would desire to have the " Winter's Tale " produced in its entirety. 'But with regard to the minor excisions, it may be said that no one of these will be found to in any way affect the essential character and spirit of the play. c4 literal adhesion to the text as it has been handed down to us would in any case savour of superstition. No one knows, and no one will ever know, what it was that Shakespeare actually wrote, or in what condition he left his works. The early quartos were in all probability printed from surrep- titiously obtained stage-copies, without the sanction either of Shakespeare or of his company; while the First Folio that Heminge & Condell pitchforked into type so abounds with obvious blunders-not merely the corrupt spelling which is everywhere visible, but speeches intended for one actor being given to another, and whole passages being repeated on the same page-that any scrupulous reproduction of this mutilated text would be mere pedantry. There is, however, one liberty taken in the following version for which an apology must be made. The final couplet is borrowed from " cAll's Well that ends Well," for the simple reason that it ofered, from the stage point of view, a more effective climax than the general conversation with which the " Winter's Tale" comes to an end. It may at least be pleaded in extenuation that no alien hand has been called in to add these closing lines. This page in the original text is blank. DRAMATIS PERSONA. LEONTES, King of Sicilia ... Mr. FORBES-ROBERTSON. MAMILLIUS, his son ... ... Miss MABEL HOARE. CAMILI.O, Mr. J. MACLEAN. ANTIGONUS, Four Lords of Mr. GEORGE WARDE. CLEOMENES, Sicilia. Mr. ARTHUR LEWIS. D[ON. Mr. F. RAPHAEL. A Councillor. ... ... Mr. A. MASON. Court Officer ... ... Mr. H. PAGilmEN. Court Herald ... ... ... Mr. LENNOX. Officer of Guard ... ... Mr. GALLIFORD. A GAOLER .-- ... ... Mr. DAVIES. HERMIONE, Queen to Leontes jdaughter to Leontes Miss MARYANDERSON. PERDITA and Hermione PAUl 1NA, wife to Antigonus EMILIA, a Lady ... Ist Lady ... (With Sot 2 nd Lady ... ... POLI KENES, King of Bohen FLORIZEL, his son ... Old Shepherd, reputed fat] of Perdita ... Clown, his son ... AUTOLYCUS, a rogue... ARCHIDAMUS, a Lord of I hemia ... ... MOU-SA DOR2AS I Shepherdesses. ... Mrs. BILLINGTON. ... Miss HELENA DACRE. Ig) Miss DESMOND. ... Miss RUSSELL. mia Mr. F. H. MACKLIN. ... Mr. FULLER MELLISH. ier ... Mr. W. H. STEPHENS. ... Mr. J. ANDERSON. ... Mr. CHARLES COLLETTE. Bo- ... Mr. GLEN WINN. JMiss ZEFFIE TILBURY. (Miss AYRTON. Xobles, Citizens, TPriests, Soldiers, ellusicians, Dancers, Shepherds and Herdsmen. Business Manager Mr. CHARLES J. ABUD. This page in the original text is blank. SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY. ACT I. SCENE 1.-The Palace of King Leontes W. Telbin. TABLEAU. SCENE 2.-Before the Palace. .. W Ilann. SCENE 3.-Queen Hermione'" Apart- ments ... ... ... W Telbin. ACT II. SCENE i.-Corridor in the Prison ... TV 'Perkins. TABLEAU. SCENE 2.-The Queen's Apartments ... It' Telbin. SCENE 3.-A Desert Country in Bo- hemia, near the Sea ... IT' Perkins. ACT III. SCENE i.-The Palace of Justice ... K Hann. Sixteenyears are sutpposed to elapse between c4cts III. V. Stage Manager for Miss ANDERSON ACT IV. SCENE i.-The Palace of King Polix- enes. in Bohemia ... H 'Perkins. SCENE 2.-A Roadside ...s ... ... Hawe Craven. TABLEAU. Sc.NF.: 3.-A Pastoral Scene ... ... ACT V. SCi!NE J.-Sicilia, King Leontes' Palace SCF NE 2.-Before the Palace ... ... Hawes Craven. W. Hann. W. Hann. TABLEAU. SCENE 3.-A Hall in Paulina's House... W. Hann. The Pastoral MV-c (' Shephrds' Dance," &c.) and "Hymn to Aplao," composed 6 Mr. ANDREW LEVEY. The Processional and Statue M.Uic by Mr. Y. M. COWARD. The Da.ces arranged by Mr. A. LA URA INE. - - - Mr. NAPIER LOTHIAN, Junr. ii ) / / THE WINTER'S TALE. Ad I. SCENE I.-SICILIc4. c 'OO OF STC41T. 1IN THS 'Pc4Lc4C. nter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS. crchidamus. I-F you shall chance, Camillo, to s Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference be- twixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia. We cannot with such magnificence-in so rare- I know not what to hay.-We will givc yusleepy drinks, that your senses, un- intelligent of our insufficience, may. -.though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us. Cam. I think, this consing summer the king of Sicilia means to pay Bo- hemnia the visitation which he just]) - - V - :4_ 11 - 77 .. .__ lv THE IlV7(TEqj'S TeALE. owes him. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their child- hoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affec- tion which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attorneyed, with interchange of gifts, letters. loving embassies. The heavens continue their loves! clrch. I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note. Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child; makes old hearts fresh; they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life to see him a man. crch. Would they else be content to die Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live. ctrch. If the king had no son they would desire to live on crutches till he had one. Andani. l-tF-t- I Snier LEONTES, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MA.MILLIUS, CAMILLO, and Attendants. 'Po/. Nine changes of the watery star have been The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne Without a burden: time as long again Would be filled up, my brother, with our thanks; And yet we should, for perpetuity, Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher. Yet standing in rich place, I multiply, With one we-thank-you, many thousands more That go before it. Leon. Stay your thanks awhile, And pay them when you part. Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow. I am questioned by my fears of what may chance Or breed upon our absence: Besides, I have stayed To tire your royalty. Leon. We are tougher, brother, Than you can put us to 't. PoL. No longer stay. Leon. One seven-night longer. sPol. Very sooth, to-morrow. Leon. We'll part the time between 's then; and in that I'll no gainsaying. 10 ACT I. SCEANE I. ePol. Press me not, beseech you, so; There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, So soon as yours could win me. Leon. Tongue-tied, our queen speak you. Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir, Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure All in Bohemia's well. Say this to him, He's beat from his best ward. Leon. Well said, Hermione. Her. To tell he longs to see his son, were strong: But let him say so then, and let him go; But let him swear so, and he shall not stay. Yet of your royal presence [to POLIXENES] I'll adventure The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia You take my lord, I'll give him my commission, To let him there a month behind the gest Prefixed for 's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes, I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind What lady-she her lord.-You'll stay 'Pol. No, madam. Her. Nay, but you will 'Pol. I may not, verily. Her. Verily ! You put me off with limber vows; but I, Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, Should you say, Sir, no going. Verily, You shall not go; a lady's verily 's As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet Force me to keep you as a prisoner, Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you My prisoner or my guest by your dread verily, One of them you shall be. R1ot. Your guest then, madam: To be your prisoner should import offending; Which is for me less easy to commit Than you to punish. Her. Not your gaoler, then. But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys: You were pretty lordlings then 'POl. We were, fair queen, Twa lads that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to-morrow as to-day. And to be boy eternal. /ir. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two 'Pol. We were as twinned lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at th' other: we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreamed I I THE WINTER'S TeCLE. Thaf any did. Had we pursued that life, And our weak spirits ne'er been higher reared With stronger blood, we should have answered heaven Boldly, ONsot guilty ;-the imposition cleared, Hereditary ours. Her. By this we gather, You have tripped since. 'Po/. 0, my most sacred lady, Temptations have since then been born to us ! for In those unfledged days was my wife a girl; Your precious self had then not crossed the eyes Of my young play-fellow. Her. Grace to boot! Yet, go on; The offences we have made you do, we'll answer. Leon. Is he won yet Her. He'll stay, my lord. Leon. At my request he would not. Hermione, my dear'st, thou never spok'st To better purpose. Her. Never Le-on. Never,' but once. Her. What! have I twice said well; when was't before I prithee, tell me. One good deed dying tongueless, Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages. You may ride us With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs e'er With spur we '11 heat an acre; but to the goal My last good deed was to entreat his stay; What was my first Nay, let me have 't; I long. Leon. Why, that was when Three crabbed months had soured themselves to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, J am yoursfor ever. Her. Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice; The one for ever earned a royal husband; The other for some while a friend. [Giving her hand to POLIXENFS. Leon. [ciside.] To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods. I have tremor cordis on me,-my heart dances,- But not for joy,-not joy.-This entertainment May a free face put on; derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent: 't may, I grant: But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, As now they are; and making practised smiles, as e4CT I. SCEV:CE . As in a looking-glass ;-and then to sigh, as 't were The mort o' the deer: 0, that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows !-Mamillius, Art thou my boy dWam. Ay, my good lord. Leon. I' fecks Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutched thy nose - They say, it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, We must be neat !-not neat, but cleanly, captain. Still virginalling [Observing POLIXENES and HERMIONE. Upon his palm -How now, you wanton calf Art thou my calf dMam. Yes, if you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have, To be full like me:-yet, they say we are Almost as like as eggs; women say so, That will say anything. Come, sir page, Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain! Most dear'st! my collop -Can thy dam -may't be- 'Pol. What means Sicilia Her. He something seems unsettled. C CPol. How is 't with you, best brother HAr. You look as if you held a brow of much distrac- tion: Are you moved, my lord Leon. No, in good earnest.- [c s:Ide.] How sometimes nature will betray its folly, It's tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms !-My brother, Are you so fond of your young prince, as we Do seem to be of ours 'Po. If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter; Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy; Leon. So stands this squire Offictd with me. We two will walk, my lord, And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione, How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's welcome; Next to thyself and my young rover, he 's Apparent to my heart. Her. If you would seek us, We are yours i' the garden : shall 's attend you there Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found, Be you beneath the sky.-[c4side.] I am angling now, Though you perceive me not how I give line. I3 14 Go to, go to! [Observing POLIXENES and HERMioNE. How she holds up the neb, the bill to him! And arms her with the boldness of a wife To her allowing husband! Gone already!- [Sxeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and Attendants. Go play, boy, play !-thy mother plays, and I Play too; but so disgraced a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour Will be my knell.-Go play, boy, play !-There have been, (6xit MAMILLIUS. And many a man there is, even at this present, (Now, while I speak this,) holds his wife by th' arm, That little thinks. Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. Physic for 't there's none. What, Camillo there Cam. Ay, my good lord. Leon. Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold: When you cast out, it still came home. Leon. Didst note it Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; made His business more material. Leon. Didst perceive it [elside.] They're here with me already; whispering, rounding, Sicilia is a-so-forih: 'T is far gone When I shall gust it last.-How came 't, Camillo, That he did stay Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties Of our most gracious mistress. Leon. Satisfy The entreaties of your mistress -satisfy I- Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, With all the near'st things to my heart, as well My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou Thy penitent reformed: but we have been Deceived in they integrity, deceived In that which seems so. Cam. Beseech your grace, Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass By its own visage: if I then deny it, 'T is none of:mine. Leon. Have not you heard, Camillo, (For to a vision so apparent rumour Cannot be mute,) or thought, (for cogitation Resides not in that man that does not think it,) My wife is slippery If thou wilt confess, THE WI C7TER'S TCoLE. e4CT 1. SCENE 1. (Or else be impudently negative, To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say My wife's not honest; say 't, and justify 't. Cam. I would not be a stander-by to hear My sovereign mistress clouded so, without My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart, You never spoke what did become you less Than this; which to reiterate were sin As deep as that, though true. Leon. Is whispering nothing Leaning cheek to cheek Skulking in corners Wishing clocks more swift Is this nothing Why, then, the world, and all that 's in 't is nothing; The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing. Cam. Good my lord, be cured Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; For it is dangerous. Leon. Say it be; 't is true. Cam. No, no, my lord. Leon. I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee. Were my wife's liver Infected as her life, she would not live The running of one glass. Cam. c 2 Who does infect her Leom. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging About his neck, Bohemia: who-if I Had servants true about me, that bare eyes To see alike mine honour as their profits, Their own particular thrifts, they would do that Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou His cupbearer,-who may'st see How I am galled,-mightest bespice a cup. To give mine enemy a lasting wink; Which draught to me were cordial. Cam. Sir, my lord, I could do this: and that with no rash potion, But with a lingering dram that should not work Maliciously like poison: but I cannot Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, So sovereignly being honourable. Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot! Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, To appoint myself in this vexation Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son,- Who I do think is mine, and love as mine,- Without ripe moving to 't -Would I do this Camt. I must believe you, sir; I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for 't; Provided that, when he's removed, your highness I 5 THE WIN7TE-R'S Tc4LE. Will take again your queen as yours at first. Even for your son's sake. Leon. Thou dost advise me, Even as I mine own course have set down: I'll give no blemish to her honour, none. Cam. My lord, Go then; and with a countenance as clear As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia, And with your queen. I am his cupbearer; If from me he have wholesome beverage, Account me not your servant. Leon. This is all;- Do 't, and thou hast the one half of my heart; Do 't not, and thou splitt'st thine own. Cam. I'll do 't, my lord. Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me. [Sxit. SCENE II.-Ge R;g)D67S 'BEFOqRT THE PeT4LcAC9. nter CAMILLO. Camillo. Oas MISERABLE lady !-But, for me, What case stand I in I must be the poisoner Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do 't Is the obedience to a master; one, Who, in rebellion with himself, will have All that are his so too.-To do this deed, Promotion follows: if I could find example Of thousands that have struck anointed kings And flourished after, I'd not do 't. I must Forsake the court: to do 't, or no, is certain To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now ! Here comes Bohemia. Suter POLIXENES. Pol. This is strange! methinks My favour here begins to warp. Not speak - Good day, Camillo. i6 e4CT 1. SCENE II. Cam. Hail, most royal sir I Pol. What is the news i' the court Cam. None rare, my lord. PoL. The king hath on him such a countenance As he had lost some province, and a region Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him With customary compliment; when he, Wafting his eyes to the contrary, and falling A lip of much contempt, speeds from me; and So leaves me to consider what is breeding That changes thus his manners. Cam. I dare not know, my lord. 'Pol. How! dare not! Cam. There is a sickness Which puts some of us in a distemper, but I cannot name the disease, and it is caught Of you that yet are well. 'Pot. How! caught of me I beseech you, If you know aught which does behove my knowledge Thereof to be informed, imprison 't not In ignorant concealment. Cam. I may not answer. 'Pol. I must be answered.-Dost thou hear, Camillo I conjure thee, by all the parts of man Which honour does acknowledge, that thou declare What incidency thou dost guess of harm Is creeping toward me. Cam. Sir, I will tell you, Therefore mark my counsel, Which must be even as swiftly followed as I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me Cry lost, and so, good night! 'P0, On, good Camillo. Cam. I am appointed him to murder you I 'Pot. By whom, Camillo Cam. By the king. 'Po!. For what Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears, As he had seen 't, or been an instrument To vice you to 't,-that you have touched his queen Forbiddenly. 'Po0. 0, then my best blood turn To an infected jelly, and my name Be yoked with his that did betray the Best How should this grow Cam. I know not: but I am sure 't is safer to Avoid what's grown than question how 't is born. If therefore you dare trust my honesty,- 17 THE WIaTE IR'S Trc LE. That lies enclosed in this trunk, which you Shall bear along impawned,-away to-night! Your followers I will whisper to the business; And will, by twos and threes, at several posterns, Clear them o' the city. Be not uncertain; For, by the honour of my parents, I Have uttered truth. Po1. I do believe thee; I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand; Be pilot to me, and thy places shall Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and My people did expect my hence departure Two days ago.-This jealousy Is for a precious creature: as she 's rare, Must it be great; and, as his person 's mighty, Must it be violent. Fear o'ershades me: Good expedition be my friend! Camillo; I will respect thee as a father, if Thou bear'st my life off hence: let us avoid. Cam. It is in mine authority to command The keys of all the posterns. Please your highness To take the urgent hour: come, sir, away I [6xeunt. gaaa-saazaaaaaza-a-a SCENE III.-SICILICI. THS 'PeILIC4, TH6 QU&e&'S elPl'1Tew8NTS. Suter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies. Hermione. PJ`AKE the boy to you: he so troubles me, 'T is past enduring. I st Lady. Come, my gracious lord, Shall I be your playfellow Afam. No, I'll none of you. Ist Lady. Why, my sweet lord Rfam. You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if I were a baby still.-I love you better. 2nd Lady. And why so. my lord AHam. Not for because Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say, Become some women best. 18 77T iv K This page in the original text is blank. cICT I. SCENE III. 2nd Lady. Who taught you this Afam. I learned it out of women's faces.-Pray now What colour are your eyebrows I st Lady. Blue, my lord. eMfam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose That has been blue, but not her eyebrows. 2nd Lady. Hark ye; we shall Present our services to a fine new prince One of these days ; and then you'd wanton with us, If we would have you. Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you -Come, sir, now I am for you again: pray you, sit by us, And tell 'a a tale. O94am. Merry, or sad, shall 't be Hae. As merry as you will. &diam. A sad tale 's best for winter I have one of sprites and goblins. Hler. Let's have that, good sir. Come on, sit down :-come on, and do your best To fright me with your sprites; you're powerful at it. RWam. There was a man,- Her. Nay, come, sit dcwn: then on. Ream. There was a man dwelt by a chu:rchyard;- I will tell it softly; yond crickets shall not hear it. Her. Come on, then And give 't me in mine ear. 6nter LEONTES, ANrIGONUS, Lords, and otahers. Leon. Was he met there his train Camillo with him ist Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never Saw I men scour so on their way: I eyed them Even to their ships. Leon. How blessed am I In my just censure !-in my true opinion 19 THE WIfITER.'S TcLE. Camillo was his help in this, his pander:- There is a plot against my life, my crown;- That false villain, Whom I employed, was pre-employed by him: He has discovered my design, and I Remain a pinched thing; yea, a very trick For them to play at will.-How came the posterns So easily open ist Lord. By his great authority; Which often hath no less prevailed than so, On your command. Leon. I know 't too well.- [eldvancing Give me the boy ;-I am glad you did not nurse him: Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him. Her. What is this sport Leon. Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her; Away with him ! [&xit MAMILLIUS, with some of the Attendants. You, my lords, Look on her, mark her well; be but about To say, she is a goodly lady, and The justice of your hearts will thereto add, '7 is pity she 's not honest, honourable. Praise her, but for this her without-door form- Which, on my faith, deserves high speech- And straight the shrug, the hun, or ha, will come between, When you have said she 's goodly, Ere you can say she 's honest: but be 't known, From him that has most cause to grieve it should be. She 's an adultress ! Her. Should a villain say so, The most replenished villain in the world, He were as much more villain: you, my lord, Do but mistake. Leon. You have mistook, my lady, Polixenes for Leontes.-I have said She's false; I have said with whom: More, she's a traitor; and privy To this their late escape. Her. No, by my life, Privy to none of this! How will this grieve you When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that You thus have published me! Gentle my loid, You scarce can right me throughly then, to say You did mistake. Leon. No! if I mistake In those foundations which I build upon, The centre is not big enough to bear A schoolboy's top.-Away with her to prison I 20 c4CT I. SCENE III. cintigonus and Lords. You are abused and by some putter on ! Leon. He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty But that he speaks. Her. There's some ill planet reigns. I must be patient.-Good my lords, I am not prone to weeping, as our sex Commonly are,-The want of which vain dew Perchance shall dry your pities,-but I have That honourable grief lodged here, which burns Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords, With thoughts so qualified as your charities Shall best instruct you, measure me;-and so The king's will be performed! Leon. Shall I be heard [To the Guards. Her. Who is 't that goes with me -Beseech your hiehness, My women may be with me.-Do not weep, good fools; There i; no cause: when you shall know your mistress Has deserved prison, then abound in tears: As I come out: this action I now go on Is for my better grace.-Adieu, my lord: I never wished to see you sorry; now I trust I shall.-My women, come; you have leave. 6xeunt QUEEN and Ladies, with Guards. 21 THE WXNTE-B('S Tc4LE. A& II. SCENE I.-THS OUTSR 9OO6f OF C4 P-XISONC. enter PAULINA and Attendants. Paulina. T nHE keeper of the prison,-call to him Let him have knowledge who I am.- (S6xit an Attendant. Good lady I No court in Europe is too good for thee! What dost thou, then, in prison 'Ne-enter Attendant, with thle Gaoler. Now, good sir, You know me, do you not Gaoi. For a worthy lady, And one who much I honour. Paul. Conduct me to the queen. Pray you, then, Gaol. I may not, madam: to the contrary I have express commandment. 'Paul. Here's ado, To lock up honesty and honour from The access of gentle visitors !-Is 't lawful, pray you, To see her women any of them Emilia Gaol. So please you, madam, To put apart these your attendants, I Shail bring Emilia forth. 'Paul. I pray now, call her.- Withdraw yourselves. [6xeunt Attendants. 22 eICT II. SCENE I. Gaol. And, madam, I must be present at your conference. 'Paul. Well, be it so, prithee. [Sxit GAO Here 's such ado to make no stain a stain, As passes colouring. Re-enter GAOLER with EMILIA. Dear gentlewoman, How fares our gracious lady Smil. As well as one so great and so forlorn May hold together: on her frights and griefs, (Which never tender lady hath borne greater,) She is, something before her time, delivered. 'Paul. A boy Smil. A daughter; and a goodly babe, Lusty, and like to live: the queen receives Much comfort in 't : says, By poor prisoner, I am innocent as you. 'Paul Pray you, Emilia, Comme -id my best obedience to the queen; 'LER. If she dares trust me with her little babe, I'll show 't to the king, and undertake to be Her ads ocate to the loudest. We do not know How he may soften at the sight o' the child. [SXit EMILIA. Gaol. Madam, if 't please the queen to send the babe, I know not what I shall incur to pass it, Having no warrant. 'Paut. Do not you fear; upon mine honour, I Will stand betwixt you and danger. [exit GAOLER. The silence often of pure innocence Persuades when speaking fails. .nter EMILtA with Child. [Taking Child.] Let 's not be doubted, I shall do good. &mit. Now, be you blessed for it. [Sxeunt. 23 THE WINTER'S TcILE. SCENE II.-THE QUlSN'S ca4lPc4RTdf&M8NTS. ANTIGOINUS, Lords, and other Attendants, in waiting behind. Snter LEONTES. Leontes. NOOR night nor day no rest. It is but weakness NTo bear the matter thus ;-mere weakness. If The cause were not in being,-say that she were gone, Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest Might come to me again.-Who's there ist c4ttend. [c4dvancing.] My lord Leon. How does the boy Ist c4ttend. He took good rest to-night; 'T is hoped his sickness is discharged. Leon. To see his nobleness! Conceiving the dishonour of his mother, He straight declined, drooped, took it deeply; Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep, And downright languished.-Leave me solely :-go, See how he fares. [6xit Attendant.] Camillo and Potixenes Laugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow : They should not laugh, if I could reach them ; nor Shall she, within my power. Enter PAULINA, with a Child. ist Lord. You must not enter. Paul. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me: Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, Than the queen's life Cdn1t. That's enough. 2nd clttend. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; com- manded None should come at hini. Paul. I come to bring him sleep Leon. What noise there, ho How!- Away with that audacious lady !-Anitigonus, I charged thee that she should not come about me. cnt. I told her so, my lord, On your displeasure's peril and on mine, She should not visit you. Leon. What, canst not rule her 'Paul. From all dishonesty he can: in this He shall not rule me. Good, my liege, I come,- And, I beseech you, hear me,-I come From your good queen. 24 c4CT II. SCEN7vE II. Leon. Good queen! Paul. Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say, good queen; And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you. Leon. Force her hence. Paul. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes First hand me: on my own accord I'll off; But first I'll do my errand.-The good queen, For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter; Here 't is; commends it to your blessing. [Laying down the Child. Leon. This brat is none of mine. 'Paul. It is yours And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge, So like you, 't is the worse. Leon. Away with her. Paul. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone. Look to your babe, my lord ; 't is yours : Jove send her A better guiding spirit !-What needs these hands You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies, Will never do him good, not one of you. So, so:-farewell; we are gone. [6xit. Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.- My child away with 't !-even thou, that hast A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence. Swear by this sword thou wilt perform my bidding. cntt. I will, my lord. Leo,. Mlark, and perform it, seest thou; for the fail Of any point in 't shall not only be Death to thyself, but to thy loud-tongued wife. WVe e-join thee, As thou art liegettian to u,, that thou carry This female bastard hence ; and that thou bear it THE WINTE-R.'S TC4LE. To some remote and desert place, quite out Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it, Without more mercy, to its own protection, Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up. c4nt. I swear to do this, though a present death Had been more merciful.-Come on, poor babe: Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens To be thy nurses! Sir, be prosperous In more than this deed does require '-and blessing, Against this cruelty, fight on thy side, Poor thing, condemned to loss! Leon. Another's issue. [Sxit, with the Child. No, 'll not rear ust Lord. Please your highness, posts, From those you sent to the oracle, are come An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion, Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed, Hasting to the court. Leon. 'T is good speed ; foretells The great Apollo suddenly will have The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords Summon a session, that we may arraign Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath Been publicly accused, so shall she have A just and open trial. While she lives, My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me; And think upon my bidding. 26 [Sxeunt. cACT II. SCENE I11. SCENE III.-`BOHeVWIc4. c4 7DJ6S&RT COVXTT(Y N(ec49( THS Sec'. gnter ANTIGONUS with the Babe; and a Mariner. cantigonus. 1 1HOU art perfect then, our ship hath touched upon . The deserts of Bohemia &lfar. Ay., my lord; and fear We have landed in ill time. C4nt. Go, get aboard; Look to thy bark; I'll not be long before I call upon thee. ,ha-. Make your best haste; and go not Too far i' the land: 't is like to be loud weather Besides, this place is famous for the creatures Of prey that keep upon 't. cint. Go thou away: I'll follow instantly. eRar. I am glad at heart To be so rid o' the business. [&xit. cant. Come poor babe I have heard (but not believed) the spirits o' the dead May walk again: if such thing might be, thy mother Appeared to me last night; for ne'er was dream So like a waking. To me comes a creature, Sometimes her head on one side, some, another I never saw a vessel of like sorrow. She did approach My cabin where I lay; thrice bowed before me; And, gasping to begin some speech, Her eyes became two spouts. The fury spent, anon Did thii break from her: Good entigonus, .Since _fale. against thy better disposition, iat/h made thy person for the thrower-out Of iny poor babe, according to thine oath, 'Placej remote enough are in 'Bohemia, There weep. and leave it, crying, and, for the babe Is counted lost for ever, Perdita, I pritiee, call 't. Foor this ungentle business, Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see Thy uzti Paultna more: -and so, with shrieks, She melted into air. I do believe Hermicne hath suffered death; and that Apollo would, this being indeed the issue Of king Polixenes, it should here be laid, 27 THE WINTER'S TeILE. Either for life or death, upon the earth Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!- [Laying down the Child. There lie; and there thy character: there these;- [Laying down a bundle. Which may, if Fortune please, both breed thee, pretty, And still rest thine.-The storm begins :-poor wretch, farewell ' The day frowns more and more :-thou 'rt like to have A lullaby too rough:-I never saw The heavens so dim by day.- Well may I get aboard! [6xit. 6nter an old Shepherd. Shep. I would there were no age between ten and three- and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but ironging the ancientry, stealing, fighting-Hark you now !-Would any but these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt this weather They have scared away two of my best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the master ; if anywhere I have them, 't is by the seaside, browsing of ivy. What have we here [Taking uzp the Babe.] Mercy on 's, a barne; a very pretty barne! I'll take it up for pity: yet I'll tarry till my son come; he hollaed but even now.-Whoa, ho hoa! C/9. [without.] Hilloa, loa! Shep. What, art so near If thou 'It see a thing to talk on when thou art dead, come hither. 6zter Clown. Here 's a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing cloth for a squire's child! look thee here! take up, take up, boy; open 't. So, let 's see :-it was told me I should be rich by the fairies ; this is some changeling:-open 't. What 's within, boy Clo. You 're a made old man; if the sins of your youth are forgiven you, you 're well to live. Gold ! all gold! Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and 't will prove so: up with it, keep it close; home, home, the next way. We are lucky, boy, and to be so still, requires nothing but secrecy.-Let my sheep go:-come, good boy, the next way home. [Sxemit. 28 This page in the original text is blank. L cACT III. SCE.-(E I. Ad III. SCENE I.-SICILICI. Ce COU'R OF YTUSTICS. LEONTES, Lords, and Officers discovered, prop5erly seated. Leo ntes. HIS sessions (to our great grief we pronounce) Even pushes 'gainst our heart; the party tried, G The daughter of a king, our wife, and one Of us too much beloved.-Let us be cleared Of being tyrannous, since we so openly Proceed in justice; which shall have due course, Even to the guilt or the purgation.- Produce the prisoner. Offi. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen Appear in person here in court-Silence I D 29 THE WIJTER'S TQaLE. Enter HERMIONE, guarded; PAULLNA and Ladies, attending. Leon. Read the indictment. Ofti. [Reads.) Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of Jhygh treason, with 'Polixenes, king of 'Bohemia; and con- spiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband. Her. Since what I am to say must be but that Which contradicts my accusation, and The testimony on my part no other But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me To say, No2ot guilty; mine integrity, Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, Be so received. But thus,-If powers divine Behold our human actions (as they do), I doubt not, then, but innocence shall make False accusation blush, and tyranny Tremble at patience.-You, my lord, best know (Who least will seem to do so) my past life Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, As I am now unhappy; for behold me,- A fellow of the royal bed, which owe A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, The mother to a hopeful prince,-here standing, To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it As I weigh grief which I would spare: for honour, 'T is a derivative from me to mine, And only that I stand for. I appeal To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes Came to your court, how I was in your grace, How merited to be so; since he came, With what encounter so uncurrent I Have strained, to appear thus: if one jot beyond The bound of honour, or in act or will That way inclining, hardened be the hearts 30 c4CT Ill. SCEN;E 1. Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin Cry Fie ! upon my grave ! Leon. I ne'er heard yet That any of these bolder vices wanted Less impudence to gainsay what they did, Than to perform it first. Her. That's true enough; Though 't is a saying, sir, not due to me. Leon. As you were past all shame, (Those of your fact are so,) so past all truth; Which to deny, concerns more than avails; for as Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, No father owning it, (which is, indeed, More criminal in thee than it,) so thou Shalt feel our justice ; in whose easiest passage, Look for no less than death. Her. Sir, spare your threats; That which you would fright me with, I seek. To me can life be no commodity: The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, But know not how it went: my second joy, And first-fruits of my marriage, from his presence D 2 I am barred, like one infectious: My third comfort, starred most unluckily, Is fromn my breast haled out to murder: Myself on every post proclaimed a wanton. Now, my liege, Tell me what blessings I have here alive, That I should fear to die Therefore, proceed. But v zt hear this; mistake me not ;-no life,- I prize it not a straw :-but for mine honour, (Which I would free,) if I should be condemned Upon surmises,-all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake,-I tell you 'T is rigour, and not law.-Your honours all, I do refer me to the oracle: Apollo be my judge! sst Lord. This your request Is altcgether just :-therefore, bring forth, And in Apollo's name, his oracle. [Sxeunt certain Officers 'Re-enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION. Opi. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have Been coth at Delphos; and from thence have brought 3 THE WINTER'S Tc4LE. This sealed-up oracle, by the hand delivered Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then, You have not dared to break the holy seal, Nor read the secrets in 't. Cleo. and Don. c4tten. 0 sir, I shall be hated to report it ! The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear Of the queen's speed, is gone. All this we swear. Leon. Break up the seals, and read. Ofti. [Reads.] Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blame- less; Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; his innocent babe truly begotten; and the king shall live without an heir, if that which is lost be not found. Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo! Her. Leon. Hast thou read truth Praised ! Offi. As it is here set down. Ay, my lord; even so Leon. There is no truth at all i' the oracle: The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood. Snter an Attendant, hastily. c4tten. My lord the king, the king! Leon. What is the business Her. How! gone cltten. Is dead. Leon. LHERMIONE faints.] How now. ePaul. This news is mortal to the queen.-Look down, And see what death is doing here-the queen, the queen, The sweet'sc, dear'st creature 's dead; and vengeance for 't Not dropped down yet ! [Sxeunt. 32 c4CT IV. SCE.N.E I. At IV. SCENE I.-'EOH6AMIoA. c4 '7pOOf It( THd PciL04C6 OF POLIXNC6S. 6nter POLIXENES and CAMILLO. 'Polixenes. - PRAY thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate. Cam. It is fifteen years since I saw my country: though I have, for the most part, been aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the peni- tent king, my master, hath sent for me, which is another spur to my departure. PoL. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy services by leaving me now. Of that fatal country Sicilia, prithee speak no more. Say to me, when sawest thou the prince Florizel, my son Cam. Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince; but I have missingly noted, he is of late much retired from court. Pol. I have eyes under my service which look upon his removedness, from whom I have this intelligence;- that he is seldom from the house of a most homely shep- herd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate. Caam. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note; the report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. 'Po . That 's likewise part of my intelligence; but I fear the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place; where we will, not appearing what we are, have some question with the shepherd; from whose simplicity I think it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Prithee, be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. Cam. I willingly obey your command. Po.l. My best Camillo ! ESxrunt. 33 THE WINTER'S TeALE. SCENE II.-THS Sc4gM. cd (Oc-D7 NSc49j TIHS SH6SPHSRtD'S COTTc4G6. .nter AUTOLYCUS, singing. W a HEN daffodils hegin to per,- With hey ! he dozy over the dole,-- Wthy e. ces in th swe t o' the ya,; For th red tiod rgns in the wner's pale I have served prince Florizel, and, in my time, wore three- pile; but now I am out of service: [Singing. But shall Igo mouron for that, my dear 7 The pale moon shines y night; And whe I wander here and the e, I then do most go right. My father named me Autolycus; wcho being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of un- considered trifles. With die and drab I purchased this comparison.-A prize! a prize! gnter Clown. Clo. Let me see:-every eleven wether tods; every tod yields-pound and odd shilling: fifteen hundred shorn, what comes the wool to C4ut. If the springe hold, the cock 's mine. [elside. Clo. I cannot do 't without counters.-Let me see; what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast [Reads] Three pounds of sugar; five pounds of currants; rice- What will this sister of mine do with rice But my father hath made her mistress of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me four-and-twenty nosegays for the shearers,- c4ut. 0, that ever I was born I [ Grovelling on the ground. Clo. 1' the name of me cAut. 0, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags; and then, death, death ! Clo. Alack, poor soul ! thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off. clut. I am robbed, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me. Clo. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee; come, lend me thy hand. [Helping him up. c4ut. 0, good sir! tenderly, 0! Clo. Alas, poor soul! 34 cACT IV. SCEZNE I.3 clut. 0, good sir I softly, good sir ! I fear, sir, my shoulder-blade is out. Clo. How now! canst stand c4ut. Softly, dear sir; ['Picks his pocket] good sir, softly. You ha' done me a charitable office. Clo. Dost lack any money I have a little money for thee. c04ut. No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir: I have a kinsman not past three-quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I shall there have money, or anything I want. Offer me no money, I pray you,-that kills my heart. C/1. What manner of fellow was he that robbed you cuft. A fellow, sir, I knew him once a servant of the prince ; I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipped out of the court. I know this man well; having flown over many knavish professions, he settled only in rogue: some call him Autol ycus. C/o. Out upon him ! he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear- bati rngs. c4at. Very true. He sir. That's the knave that put me into this apparel. Co. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had looked big and spit at him, he 'd have run. aMlut. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter; and that he knew, I warrant him. C/l. How do you now chut. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand and walk: I will even take my leave of you, and pace softly towards my kinsman's. C/. Shall I bring thee on the way CAlWt. No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir. Clo. Then fare thee well; I must go buy spices for our sheep-shearing. 35 36 THE WIV TEW'S TA4LE. clut. Prosper you, sweet sir! [8xit Clown.] Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too. If I make not this cheat bring out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled, and my name put in the book of virtue! [singinzg. _7og on, jog on, the foot-path u'y, ' - And merily Aent the stile-: A merry heat g-e all the day, Yo- sad tire in a mle-a. V, K 4 (-- -,,, UK cICT IV. SCEZ(E III. SCENE III. THS Sc4&R9. 'BIFOIX& cl SHPH6qRZD'S COTTeIGS. 4 Suter FLORIZEL and PERDITA. Modnak'. MXd -&. a J rEJ I Florizel. THESE your unusual weeds to each part of you T Do give a life: no shepherdess; but Flora, Peering inApril's front. This your sheep-shearing Is a meeting of the pretty gods, And you the queen on 't. 'Per Sir, my gracious lord, To chide at your extremes, it not becomes me,- 0, pardon, that I name them I-your high self, The gracious marks o the land, you have obscured With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid, Most goddess-like pranked up. Flo. I bless the time, When my good falcon made her flight across Thy father's ground. ePer. Now Jove afford you cause! To me the difference forges dread; 37 THE WivsTE-RS TerLE. Even now I tremble To think your father by some accident Should pass this way, as you did: How would he look, to see his work, so noble, Vilely bound up What would he say Or how Should I, in these my borrowed flaunts, behold The sternness of his presence Flo. Nothing but jollity. Of celebration of that nuptial which We two have sworn shall come. 'Per. 0, lady Fortune, Stand you auspicious! Flo. See, your guests approach: Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, And let 's be red with mirth. Apprehend Per. 0, but, sir, Your resolution cannot hold, when 't is Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king; One of these two must be necessities, That you must change this purpose, or I my life. Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not The mirth o' the feast: or I'll be thine, my fair, Or not my father's; for I cannot be Mine own, or anything to any, if I be not thine: to this I am most constant, Though destiny say N7(o. That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: Lift up your countenance, as it were the day -Snter Shepherd, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO disguised; Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and other Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Sheep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived, upon This day she was both pantler, butler, cook; Both dame and servant: welcomed all; served all; You are retired As if you were a feasted one, and not The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid These unknown friends to us welcome. Come, quench your blushes, and present yourself That which you are, mistress o' the feast 'Per. Sir, welcome! I . . .. . - . I. I- - 38 c4CT IV. SCENE' 111. [To POLIXENES. It is my father's will I should take on me The hostess-ship o' the day.-You're welcome, sir! [To CAMILLO. Give nLF those flowers there, Dorcas.-Reverend sirs, For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long: Grace and remembrance be to you both, And welcome to our shearing! Po0. Shepherdess, (A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages With flowers of winter. Cant. I should leave grazing, where I of your flock, And only live by gazing. Per. Out, alas! You 'd 'e so lean, that blasts of January Would blow you through and through.-Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring, that might Become your time of day; and yours, and yours:- 0, Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou lett'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That ccme before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, 39 THE WINTER'S TcILE. But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath; bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial! 0, these I lack, To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend, To strew him o'er and o'er ! F/a. What! like a corse 'Per. Not like a corse; or if,-not to be buried, But quick, and in mine arms. Flo. When you speak, sweet, I 'd have you do it ever: when you sing I 'd have you buy and sell so; When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that. 'Per. 0, Doricles! Your praises are too large. Flo. But, come; our dance, I pray: Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair, That never mean to part. 'Per. I'll swear for 'em. Po/. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever Ran on the green-sward : nothing she does or seems, But smacks of something greater than herself: Too noble for this place. Cam. Good sooth, she is The queen of curds and cream. CIO. Come on, strike up! 'Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: dfo.P. Now, in good time! Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners.- Come, strike up ! - Alkg. I I vL go- -.: a,, t 4 4S-;_;i - XArce.. ___ p.A Pi-. [Music. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Po/. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this Which dances with your daughter Shep. They call him Doricles; and boasts himself To have a worthy feeding. He says he loves my daughter I think so too: and, to be plain, I think there is not half a kiss to choose Who loves another best. If young Doricles Do light upon her, she shall bring him that Which he not dreams of. Snter a Servant. Serv. 0 master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the 40 W!--tw This page in the original text is blank. c4CT IV. SCEt NE II. door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; he sings several tunes faster than you '11 tell money. 1 - -. ; _,,. j f 3A A0 NS i; CXa. He could never come better; I love a ballad but even too well. Prithee, bring him in; and let him ap- proach singing. [exit Servant. snter AUTOLYCUS, singing. Come, d6y of me; co 6uy, come Awy; Biy lads, or else yor lasses cy co me,,, b '. Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain ribands and gloves. dMoP. I was promised them against the feast; but they come not too late now. PDor. He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars. Ifop. He hath paid you all he promised you: may be, he has paid you more ;-which will shame you to give him again. Clo. Is there no manners left among maids Ro'ap. I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry lace and pair of sweet gloves. Clo. Havla I not told thee how I was cozened by the the way, and lost all my money c4ut. And, indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary. Clo. FeCar not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here. What hast here ballads Moap. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print a'-life; for then we are sure they are true. c4-ut. Here 's one to a very doleful tune. dtt. 'Pray you now, buy it. Clo. Come on, lay it by: and let 's see first more ballads; we 'II buy the other things anon. Lay it by too: another. clut. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one. JMao. Iet 's have some merry ones. 4I T2THE WI.V'CT Eq'S T c LE. elut. Why, this is a passing merry one, and goes to the tune of " Two maids wooing a man." Clo. We '11 have this song out anon by ourselves: my father and the gentleman are in sad talk, and we '11 not trouble them.-Come, bring away thy pack after me.- Wenches, I 'II buy for you both.-Pedler, let 's have the first choice.-Follow me, girls. [exit with MOPSA and DORCAS. chut. And you shall pay well for 'em. [Singing. Come, hby of me, &c. [Exit. Pol. 'T is time to part them. ceAside.] He 's simple and tells much.-How now, fair shepherd Your heart is full of something that does take Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young, And handed love as you do, I was wont To load my she with knacks: you have let him go, And nothing marted with him. Flo. Old sir, I know She prizes not such trifles as these are: The gifts she looks from me are packed and locked Up in my heart. 0, hear me breathe my life Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, Hath sometime loved! Po. But to your protestation; let me hear What you profess. Flo. Do, and be witness to 't. ol. And this my neighbour too Flo. And he, and more Than he, and men,-the earth, the heavens, and all:- That, were I crowned the most imperial monarch, Thereof most worthy ; were I the fairest youth That ever made eye swerve; had force and knowledge More than were ever man's,-I would not prize them, Without her love. Shep. But, my daughter, Say you the like to him 'Per. I cannot speak So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better: By the pattern cf mine own thoughts I cut out The purity of his. Shep. Take hands, a bargain FLo. Come on, contract us 'fore these witnesses. Pol. Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you; Have you a father Flo. I have: but what of him TPo. Knows he of this Flo. He neither does nor shall. 42 cICT IV. SCEN E Ill. 'Pol. Methinks a father. Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest That best becomes the table. Let him know 't. Flo. He shall not. Tol. Prithee, let him. Flo. Shep. Let him, my son; At knowing of thy choice. F/a. Mark ou: contract. 43 No, he must not. he shall not need to grieve Come, come he must not:- -'' POPUW - '; , -z5L, '., - -- - " -a o - - -zzl_ - ' THE WIIZ(TER,'S TC4LE. 'POa. 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, And thou, fresh piece Of excellent witchcraft, who, of force, must know The royal fool thou cop'st with;- I'll have thy beauty scratched 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. Follow us to the court.-And you, enchantment, 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. [Sxit. 'Per. Even here undone, I was not much afeard: for once or twice I was about to speak, and tell him plainly, The self-same sun that shines upon his court Hides not his visage from our cottage, but Looks on alike.- ' ,i AKI Will 't please you, sir, be gone [To FLORIZEL. 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. Cam. Why, how now, father ! 44 c4CT IV. SCENE III. Sh e. 0, Sir, [Tot FLORIZEL. You have undone a man of fourscore three, That thought to fill his grave in quiet.- 0 cursed wretch! [To PERDITA. That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure To mingle faith with him !-Undone! undone! Flo. Why look you so upon me I am but sorry, not afeard; delayed, But nothing altered: what I was, I am. 'Per. How often have I told you 't would be thus! Flo. Lift up thy looks:- From my succession bar me, father! I Am heir to my affection. Cam. Be advised. F/o. I am,-and by my fancy. Cam. This is desperate, sir. F/o. 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 gleaned ; will I break my oath To this my fair beloved. And, most oppdrtuneto 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. Cam. 0, my lord! Flo. Hark, Perdita.- (Takes her aside. I'll hear you by-and-bye. [To CAMILLO. Cam. 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 tha: unhappy king, my master, wvhom I so much thirst to see. Flo. Now, good Camillo. Cam. Have you thought on A place wvhereto you '11 go 1'/o. Not an)y yet. Cam. 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. Methinks, I see him Opening his free arms, and weeping His welcomes forth; asks thee, the son, forgiveness, As 't were i' the father's person. 45 THE WIN TER'S Til LE. 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. Flo. I am bound to you -Camillo,- Preserver of my father, now of me, How shall we do We are not furnished like Bohemia's son; Nor shall appear in Sicilia. Cam. My lord, It shall so be 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. Snter AUTOLYCUS. e4ut. Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! I picked and -cut most of their festival purses; and had not the old man come in with a whoobub 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 comeforward. Cam. Nay, but my letters, by this means being there So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt and Satisfy your father. 'Per. Happy be you! All that you speak shows fair. Cam. Who have we here - [Seeing AUTOLYCUS. Ve'll make an instrument of this. c4ut. [c4side.] If they have overheard me now,- why, hanging. Cam. How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so Fear not, man ; here's no harm intended to thee. c4ut. I am a poor fellow, sir. Cam. 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. [Giving money. cut. I am a poor fellow, sir-[elside.] I know ye well enough. Cam. Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half flayed already. c4ut. Are you in earnest, sir -[c4szde]. I smell the trick on 't. F/c. Despatch, I prithee. c4ut. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with conscience take it. 46 cdCT IV. SCENE(E III. Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle.- [FLORIZF.L and AUTOLYCuS exchange garments. Fortunate mistress,-let my prophecy Come home to ye !-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 feel eyes over) to shipboard Get undescried. 'Per. I see the play so lies That I must bear a part. Cam. No remedy. [Sxit. ISjXit. Flo. Oh, Perdita ' Fortune speed us !-Camillo, I pray you, As you have ever been my father's honoured friend, When 1e shall miss me, (as, in faith, I mean not To see him any more.) cast your good counsels Upon h..s passion. Let myself and fortune Tug for the time to come. I am put to sea \Vith her whom I cannot hold on shore. Thus we set on, Camillo, to the seaside. Cam. The swifter speed the better. L&Sxunt Fi.ORIZEI., P[:RIJITA and CAMILLO. Sn/er CAMILLO. Cain. [ei4side.] 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 wshose company I shall re-view Sicilia, for whose sight I have a woman's longing. 'Calling] Are you done there dnier PERDITA. F/o. [gntering.] Should I now meet my father, He would not call me son. Cam. Come, lady, come. E 2 Nay, you shall have no hat. 47 THE WINTE9'S Te4LE. A& V. SCENE I.-SICILIc4. ca ROOM IN THFS RPaILCC8 OF L6OI(T8S. .6nier LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DIGN, PAULINA, and others Cleomenes. IR, you have done enough, and have performed S A saint-like sorrow: at the last, Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil With them, forgive yourself. Leon. Whilst I remember Her and her virtues, I cannot forget My blemishes in them; and so still think of The wrong I did myself: which was so much, That heirless it hath made my kingdom; and Destroyed the sweet'st companion that e'er man Bred his hopes out of. TPaid. True, too true, my lord: If, one by one, you wedded all the world, Or from all that are took something good, To make a peifect woman, she, you killed, Would be unparalleled. Leon. I think so. Killed! She I killed I-I did so, but thou strik'st me sorely To say I did. Now good, now say so but seldom, Good Paulina,- Who hast the memory of Hermione, I know, in honour,-O, that ever I Had squared me to thy counsel !-then, even now, 48 C4CT V. SCENCE I. I might have looked upon my queen's full eyes; Have taken treasure from her lips,- 'Paul. And left them More rich for what they yielded. Leon. Thou speak'st truth No more such weives; therefore, no wife- I'll have no wife. Paulina. Paud. Will you swear Never to marry but by my free leave Leon. Never, Paulina; so be blessed my spirit! 'Paul. Then, good my lords, bear witnes, to his oath. Clco. You tempt him over-much. 'Paul. Unless another As like Hermione as is her picture, Affront his eye. Yet, if my lord wvill marry,-if you will, sir, No remedy but you wvill,-give me the office To choose you a queen : she shall not be so young As was your former; but she shall be such As, walked your first queen's ghost, it should take joy To see her in your arms. gnter a Gentleman. Gent. One that gives out himself prince Florizel, Son of Polixenes, with his princess, Desires access to your high presence. Leon. He comes not Like to hi i father's greatness: his approach, So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us 'T is not a visitation framed, but forced By need and accident. What train Gent. And those but mean. Leon. But few, His princess, say you. with him Gent. Ay, my liege. Leon. Go, Cleomenes; Yourself, assisted with your honoured friends, Bring them to our embracement.-Still 't is strange. [exeunt Ci.FOMENES, Lords, and Gentleman. He thus should steal upon us. Paal. Had our prince (Jewel of children) seen this hour, he had paired Well with this lord; there wvas not full a month Between their births. Leon. Prithee, no more ; cease; thou know'st, He dies to me again when talked of: sure, When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches Will bring me to consider that which may Unfurnish me with reason.-They are come.- 41) 50 THE WI Re-enter CLEOMENES with FLORIZEL and PERDITA. Most dearly welcome! And your fair princess,-goddess!- 0, alas! I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth Might thus have stood, beggeting wonder, as IN TE Rj'S Tc L E. You, gracious couple, do! and then I lost (All mine own folly) the society, Amity too, of your brave father, whom, Though bearing misery, I desire my life Once more to look on him. Flo. By his command Have I here touched Sicilia; and from him Give you all greetings, that a king Can send his brother; whom he loves (He bade me say so) more than all the sceptres, And those that bear them, living. Leon. Welcome hither, As is the spring to the earth. dnter a Lord. Lord. Please you, great sir, Bohemia greets you from himself by me; Desires you to attach his son, who has (His dignity and duty both cast off) Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with A shepherd's daughter. Leon. Where's Bohemia speak! Lord. Here in your city; I now came from him. To your court Whiles he was hastening, (in the chase, it seems, Of this fair-couple,) meets he on the way eICT V. SCENE 1. The father of this seeming lady and Her brother, having both their country quitted With this young prince. Flo. Camillo has betrayed me; Whose honour and whose honesty, till now, Endured all weathers. Lord. Lay 't so to his charge; He 's with the king your father. Leon. Who Camillo 'Per. The heavens set spies upon us, will not have Our contract celebrated. Leon. You are married Fao. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be; The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:- Leon. My lord. Is this the daughter of a king F-a. She is, When once she is my wife. Leon. That once, I see, by your good father's speed, Will come on very slowly. F/a. Dear, look up.- Beseech you, sir. Step forth mine advocate; at your request, My father will grant precious things as trifles. Leon. Would he do so, I 'd beg your precious mistress, Which he counts but a trifle. 'Paul. Sir, my liege, Your eye hath too much youth in 't; not a month 'Fore your queen died, she was more worth buch gazes Than whit you look on now. Leon. I thought of her, Even in these looks I made.-But your petition [To FLORIZEL. Is yet unanswered. I will to your father; Your hor.our not overthrown by your desires, I am a friend to them and you: come, my lord. [6xtunt. THE WIt TER'S TcLE. SCENE II.-THS ScfWUM. 'BSFOW( THS 'PCLACE OF LgONT&S. 65nter a Gentleman and ROGERO. Gentleman. HE news, Rogero L tRog. Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is ful- filled; the king's daughter is found; such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad- makers cannot be able to express it.-Here comes the lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver you more- &nter PAULINA'S Steward. How goes it now, sir this news, which is called true, is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong suspi- cion; has the king found his heir Stew. The mantle of queen Hermione's ;-her jewel about the neck of it; the letters of Antigonus, found with it, which they know to be his character;-the majesty of the creature, in resemblance of the mother ;-the affection of nobleness, which nature shows above her breeding;- and many other evidences, proclaim her with all certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the two kings Rog. No. Stew. Then have you lost a sight, which was to be seen cannot be spoken of. Gent. Are they returned to the court Stew. No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,-a piece many years in doing, and now newly performed by a rare master, who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that they say one would speak to her, and stand in hope of answer thither, with all greediness of affection, are they gone. Rog. I thought she had some great matter there in hand; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. Shall we thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing Gent. Ay, let 's along. [x.unt. enter AUTOLYCUS. cut. Now, had I not a dash of my former life in me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought the old man and his son aboard the prince; told him I heard them talk of a fardel, and I know not what; but he at that time, over-fond of the shepherd's daughter, (so he D2 cACT V. SCEN7'E 11. then took her to be,) who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery remained undiscovered. But 't is all one to me; for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it would not have relished among my other discredits. Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune. Enter Shepherd and Clown. Shep. Come, boy; I am past more children, but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. Clo. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these clothes say, you see them not, and think me still no gentleman born: you were best say these robes are not gentlemen born. Give me the lie, do ; and try whether I am not now a gentleman born. eut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours. Shefi. And so have I, boy. Clo. So you have:-but I was a gentleman born before my father; for the king's son took me by the hand, and called me brother; and then the two kings called my father brother; and then the prince my brother, and the princess my sister, called my father, father ; and so we wvept,-and there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed. Shep. WVe may live, son, to shed many more. C/o. Ay; or else 't were hard luck, being in so prepos- terous estate as we are. caut. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the faults I have committed to your worship, and to give me your good report to the prince my master. Shep. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen. C/o. Thou wilt amend thy life alut. Ay, an it like your good worship. C/o. Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. Sheep. You may say it, but not swear it. Clo. INot swear it, now I am a gentleman Let boors and franklins say it, I 11 swear it. Shep. How if it be false, son C/o. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in the behalf of his friend :-and I'll swear to the prince, thou art a tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk; but I '11 swear it. Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. Come, follow us: we '11 be thy good masters. [Sxeu t. 53 54 THE WIlN TEW'S TcaLE. SCENE III.-THS Sc4W1. al CHc0t4PSL IN 'Pc4ULINCeT'S HOUS6. Cnttr LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA, CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords, and Attendants. Leontes. O GRAVE and good Paulina, the great comfort That I have had of thee! Paul. What, sovereign sir, I did not well, I meant well. All my services You have paid home: but that you have vouchsafed, With your crowned brother, and these your contracted Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit, It is a surplus of your grace, which never My life may last to answer. Leon. 0, Paulina, We honour you with trouble:-but we came To see the statue of our queen: your gallery Have we passed through, not without much content In many singularities; but we saw not That which my daughter came to look upon, The statue of her mother. Pau,'. As she lived peerless, So her dead likeness, I do well believe, Excels whatever yet you looked upon, Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it Lonely, apart. But here it is-prepare To see the life as lively mocked as ever Still sleep mocked death: behold! and say 't is well. [PAULINA undraws a curtain, and dis- covers HERMIONE as a statue. I like your silence,-it the more shows off Your wonder: but yet speak ;-first, you, my liege. Comes it not something near Leon. Her natural posture!- Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed Thou art Hermione. 0, thus she stood, Even with such life of majesty (warm life, As now it coldly stands) when first I wooed her! 0, royal piece, there 's magic in thy majesty. 54 This page in the original text is blank. of :: i i,i 1 11 -, I Ig " C,, f cACT V. SCENE III. Paul. Indeed, my lord, If I had thought the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you (for the stone is mine) I 'd not have showed it. Leon. Do not draw the curtain I 'Paul. No longer shall thou gaze on 't, lest your fancy May think anon it moves. Leon. Let be! let be! See, my lord! Would you not deem it breathed and that those veins Did verily bear blood Pol. Masterly done! The very life seems warm upon her lip. Leon. Let no man mock me, For I will kiss her. Paul. Good my lord, forbear! The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; You '11 mar it, if you kiss it; stain your own With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain Leon. No, not these twenty years! Paul. Either forbear, Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you For more amazement. If you can behold it, I '11 make -he statue move; indeed, descend And take you by the hand. Leon. What you can make her do, I am content to look on: what to speak, I am content to hear; for 't is as easy To make her speak as move. Paul. It is required You do awake your faith. Then all stand still. Leon. Proceed ! No foot shall stir. aul. Music, awake her, strike!- [difusic. Come; I '11 fill your grave up: stir; nay, come away; Bequeath to Death your numbness, for from him Dear Life redeems you. 'T is time; descend; Be stone no more ! [HERMIONE slowly descends from the pedestal. Do not shun her, Until you see her die again; for then You kill her double. Leon. 0, she 's warm! [6S'bracing her. Cain. She hangs about his neck! If she ptrtain to life, let her speak too. 55 56 THE Wfl7NTER!S 'PoL. Ay, and make 't manifest where she has lived, Or how stolen from the dead! PauL. Mark a little while,- Please you to interpose, fair madam; kneel. And pray your mother's blessing.-Turn, good lady; Our Perdita is found. [resenting PERDITA, who kneels to HERMIONE. Her You gods, look down, And from your sacred vials pour your graces Upon my daughter's head !-Tell me, mine own, Where hast thou been preserved where lived how found Thy father's court for thou shalt hear that I,- Knowing by Paulina that the oracle Gave hope thou wast in being,-have preserved Myself, to see the issue. All yet seems well if it ends so meet, The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. [&xeunf. CURTAIN. T c LE. FI NIS. LONDON, E. I 4,348. 4