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SCENE VII.

Enter an old Shepherd.

Shep. I would there were no age between thirteen and three and twenty, or that youth would fleep out the rest: for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting-hark you now! — would any but these boil'd brains of nineteen and two and twenty hunt this weather? they have scar'd away two of my best sheep; which, I fear, the wolf will fooner find than the master: if any where I have them, 'tis by the seaside, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy will! what have we here? [taking up the child.] Mercy on's, a bearne! a very pretty bearne: a boy or a child, I wonder! a pretty one; a very pretty one: fure, fome 'scape: though I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the 'scape. This has been some stair-work, fome trunk-work, fome behind-door-work: they were warmer that got this, than the poor thing is here. I'll take it up for pity; yet I'll tarry till my fon come: he hollow'd but even now. Whoa, ho-hoa!

Clo. Hilloa, loa!

Enter Clown.

Shep. What, art fo near? if thou'lt fee a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail'ft thou, man?

Clo. I have feen two fuch fights, by fea and by land; but I am not to say, it is a fea, for it is now the fky; betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.

Shep. Why, boy, how is it?

Clo. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it rakes up the shore! but that's not to the point; o, the most piteous cry of the poor fouls! fometimes to fee 'em, and not to fee 'em: now the fhip boring the moon with her mainmast, and anon swallow'd with yeft and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a hogfhead. And then the land-fight, to fee how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone, how he cry'd to me for help, and said, his

name

name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the fhip; to fee how the fea flapdragon'd it. But, first, how the poor fouls roar'd, and the fea mock'd them: and how the poor gentleman roar'd, and the bear mock'd him; both roaring louder than the fea, or weather.

Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

Clo. Now, now: I have not winked fince I saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman; he's at it now.

Shep. Would I had been by to have help'd the nobleman! Clo. I would you had been by the fhip-fide, to have help'd her; but there your charity would have lack'd footing.

Shep. Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now blefs thyself; thou meet'ft with things dying, I with things new born. Here's a fight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a fquire's child! look thee here; take up, take up, boy; open't: fo, let's fee: it was told me I fhould be rich by the fairies. This is fome changling; open't: what's within, boy? Clo. You're a made old man; if the fins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold, all gold.

Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove fo: up with it, keep it close: home, home, the next way. We are lucky, boy; and to be fo ftill requires nothing but fecrefy. Let my fheep go: come, good boy, the next way home.

Clo. Go you the next way with your findings; I'll go fee if the bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten they are never curft, but when they are hungry: if there be any of him left, I'll bury it.

Shep. That's a good deed. If thou may'st discern by that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to th' fight of him.

Clo. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i'th' ground. Shep. 'Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good deeds on't.

[Exeunt.

ACT

I

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter Time as Chorus.

TIME.

THAT please fome, try all, both joy and terrour Of good and bad, that make and unfold errour, Now take upon me, in the name of time,

To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me, or my swift paffage, that I flide
O'er fixteen years, and leave the growth untry'd
Of that wide gap; fince it is in my power
To o'erthrow law, and in one self-born hour
To plant and o'erwhelm custom: let me pass
The fame I am, ere ancient'ft order was,
Or what is now receiv'd. I witnefs to
The times that brought them in, fo fhall I do
To th' freshest things now reigning, and make stale
The gliftering of this prefent, as my tale
Now feems to it. Your patience this allowing,
I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing
As you had flept between. Leontes leaving
Th'effects of his fond jealoufies, fo grieving
That he shuts up himself; imagine me,
Gentle fpectators, that I now may be
In fair Bithynia, and remember well,
There is a fon o'th' kings, whom Florizel
I now name to you, and with speed so pace
To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace
Equal with wond'ring: what of her enfues
I lift not prophefy: but let time's news

:

Be known when 'tis brought forth. A fhepherd's daughter, And what to her adheres, which follows after,

Is th'argument of time: of this allow,
If ever you have spent time worse ere now;
If never, yet that time himself doth say,
He wishes earnestly you never may.

[Exit.

Pol.

Pol. I

SCENE II.

Court of Bithynia.

Enter Polixenes, and Camillo.

Pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: 'tis a fickness, denying thee any thing; a death, to grant this. Cam. It is fixteen years, fince I faw my country; though I have, for the most part, been aired abroad, I defire to lay my bones there. Befides, the penitent king, my master, hath sent for me; to whofe feeling forrows I might be fome allay, or I o'erween to think fo; which is another fpur to my departure.

Pol. As thou lov'ft me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy services by leaving me now: the need I have of thee, thine own goodness hath made; better not to have had thee, than thus to want thee. Thou, having made me bufineffes, which none, without thee, can fufficiently manage, must either stay to execute them thyself, or take away with thee the very fervices thou haft done; which if I have not enough confidered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit therein, the heaping friendship. Of that fatal country Sicilia, pr'ythee, speak no more; whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance of that penitent, as thou call'ft him, and reconciled king my brother, whofe loss of his most precious queen, and children, are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when faw'ft thou the prince Florizel my fon? kings are no lefs unhappy, their iffue not being gracious, than they are in lofing them, when they have approved their virtues.

Cam. Sir, it is three days, fince I faw the prince; what his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have,

mufingly,

mufingly, noted, he is of late much retired from court, and is lefs frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he hath appear'd.

Pol. I have confider'd fo much, Camillo; and with fome care; so far, that I have eyes under my service, which look upon his removedness: from whom I have this intelligence, that he is feldom from the house of a most homely fhepherd; a man, they say, that, from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unfpeakable estate.

Cam. I have heard, fir, of fuch a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note: the report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin from fuch a cottage.

Pol. That's likewise part of my intelligence; and, I fear, the angle that plucks our fon thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place; where we will (not appearing what we are) have fome question with the shepherd; from whose fimplicity, I think it not uneafy to get the cause of my fon's refort thither. Pr'ythee, be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.

Cam. I willingly obey your command.

Pol. My beft Camillo! we must disguise ourselves. [Exeunt.

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Enter Autolicus finging.

When daffodils begin to peer,

With hey the doxy over the dale,

Why, then comes in the fweet o' th' year :

For the red blood reigns o'er the winter's pale.

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,

With hey the fweet birds, o, how they fing!

Doth fet my progging tooth on edge,

For a quart of ale is a difh for a king.

The

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