I do repent: alas, I've fhew'd too much To th' nobler heart. What's gone, and what's past help, Should be paft grief. Do not receive affliction Let me be punish'd, that have minded you Of what you should forget. Now, good my Liege, The love I bore your Queen-lo, fool again!- Who is loft too. Take you your patience to you, Leo. Thou didst fay but well, When most the truth; which I receive much better So long I daily vow to use it. Come SCENE VI. [Exeunt. Changes to Bohemia. A defert Country; the Sea at a little distance. Ant. Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner. HOU art perfect then, our fhip hath touch'd upon THO 5 5 Thou art perfect then,] Speare for certain, well affured, or Perfect is often ufed by Shake- well informed. The The deferts of Bohemia? Mar. Ay, my Lord; and fear, We've landed in ill time: the skies look grimly, And threaten prefent blufters. In my confcience, The heav'ns with that we have in hand are angry, And frown upon's. Ant. Their facred wills be done! get thee aboard, Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before I call upon thee. Mar. Make your best hafte, and go not Too far i'th' land; 'tis like to be loud weather. Ant. Go thou away. I'll follow inftantly. Mar. I'm glad at heart to be fo rid o'th' business, Ant. Come, poor babe; I have heard, So fill'd, and fo becoming; in pure white robes, [Exit, My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me, And, gafping to begin fome fpeech, her eyes Became two fpouts; the fury fpent, anon Did this break from her. "Good Antigonus, "Since fate, against thy better difpofition, "Hath made thy person for the thrower-out "Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, "Places remote enough are in Bohemia, "There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe "Is counted loft for ever and ever, Perdita, "I pry'thee, call't. For this ungentle bufinefs, "Put on thee by my Lord, thou ne'er shall fee Thy wife Paulina more."-And fo, with fhrieks, She melted into air. Affrighted much, I did in time collect myself, and thought I will be fquar'd by this. I do believe, [Laying down the child. There lie, and there thy character: there thefe, [Laying down a bundle. Which may, if fortune pleafe, both breed thee, pretty one, And still reft thine. The ftorm begins;-Poor wretch, The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have The heav'ns fo dim by day. A favage clamour*!Well may I get aboard this is the chace; I am gone for ever. [Exit, purfued by a bear. SCENE VII. Enter an old Shepherd. Shep. I would there were no age between ten and three and twenty, or that youth would fleep out the reft: for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, ftealing, A favage clamour.] This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters; then feeing the bear, he cries, this is the chace, or, the animal purfued. fighting-hark you now!-would any but these boil'd brains of nineteen, and two and twenty, hunt this weather? They have fcarr'd away two of my belt fheep, which, I fear, the wolf will fooner find than the master; if any where I have them, 'tis by the seafide, brouzing 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: tho' I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting gentlewoman in the fcape. This has been fome ftair-work, fome trunk-work, fome behinddoor-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 fay, it is a fea; for it is now the fky; betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bcdkin's point. Shep. Why, boy, how is it? Clo. I would, you did but fee how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the fhore; but that's not to the point; oh, the moft piteous cry of the poor fouls, fometimes to fee 'em, and not to fee 'em: now the thip boring the moon with her main-maft, and anon fwallow'd with yeft and froth, as you'd thruff a cork into a hogfhead. And then for the land fervice,- to fee how the Bear tore out his fhoulder-bone, how he cry'd to me for help, and faid his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the fhip, to fee how the fea flap-dragon'd it. But first, how the poor fouls roar'd, 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 wink'd fince I faw thefe. fights; the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half din'd on the gentleman; he's at it now.. Shep. 'Would, I had been by to have help'd the old man. Clo. I would, you had been by the ship-side, to have help'd her; there your charity would have lack'd footing.[Afide. Shep. Heavy matters, heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now blefs thyfelf; 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; so, let's fee; it was told me, I should be rich by the fairies. This is fome changeling: open't; what's within, boy? 7 Col. You're a mad 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 will prove fo. Up with it, keep it clofe: home, home, the next way. 6 Shep. Would, I had been by to barve help'd the old Man.] Tho' all the printed Copies concur in this reading, I am perfuaded, we cught to restore, Nobleman. The Shepherd knew nothing of Antigonus's Age; befides, the Clown had just told his Father, that he faid, his Name was Antigonus a Nobleman, and no less than three times in this fhort Scene, the Clown, fpeaking of him, calls him the Gentleman. THEOBALD. 7 In former copies, You're a mad old Man; if the Sins of your Youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all Gold!] This the Clown fays upon his opening his Fardel, and discovering the Wealth in it. But this is no Reason why he fhould call his Father a mad old Man. I have ventur'd to correct in the Text You're a made old Man: i. e, your Fortune's made by this adventitious Treasure. So our Poet, in a Number of other Passages. THEOBALD. |