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Something unfilial: Reafon, my fon

Should chufe himself a wife; but as good reafon,
The father (all whofe joy is nothing elfe

But fair pofterity) fhould hold fome counfel
In fuch a bufinefs.

Flo. I yield all this;

But for fome other reafons, my grave Sir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this bufinefs.

Pol. Let him know't.

Flo. He fhall not.

Pol. Pr'ythee, let him.

Flo. No; he must not.

Shep. Let him, my fon; he fhall not need to grieve

At knowing of thy choice.

Flo. Come, come, he must not:

Mark our contract.

Pol. Mark your divorce, young Sir,

[Difcovering himself. Whom fon I dare not call: thou art too bafe

To be acknowledg'd. Thou a scepter's heir,
That thus affect'ft a fheep-hook! Thou old traytor,
I'm forry, 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 cop'ft with-

Shep. O my heart!

Pol. I'll have thy beauty fcratch'dwith briars,and made
More homely than thy ftate. For thee, fond boy,
If I may ever know thou doft but figh

That thou no more fhalt fee this knack, as never
I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from fucceffion;
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,

Far than.] I think for far than we should read far as. We will not hold thee of our kin

even fo far off as Deucalion the common ancestor of all.

Tho'

Tho' full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment,
Worthy enough a herdfman; yea him too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee; if ever, henceforth, thou
Thefe rural latches to his entrance open,
Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
I will devife a death as cruel for thee,
As thou art tender to it.

SCENE VIII.

Per. Even here, undone,

[Exit.

I was not much afraid'; for once or twice
I was about to fpeak, and tell him plainly,
The felf-fame fun, that fhines upon his court,
Hides not his vifage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike. Wilt pleafe you, Sir, be gone?
[To Florizel.
I told you, what would cone of this. 'Befeech you,
Of your own state take care:-this dream of miue,-
Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
But milk my ewes, and weep.

Cam. Why, how now, father?

Speak, ere thou dieft.

Shep. I cannot fpeak, nor think,

Nor dare to know that which I know. O Sir,

[To Florizel,

You have undone a man of fourfcore three,

I was not much afraid; &c.] The Character is here finely fuftained. To have made her quite aitonished on the king's difcovery of himself, had not become her birth; and to have given her prefence of mind to have made this reply to the King, had not become her education.

WARBURTON. * You have undone a man of

fourfcore three, &c.] Thefe fentiments, which the Poet has heighten'd by a strain of ridicule that runs thro' them, admirably characterize the fpeaker; whole felfishness is feen in concealing the adventure of Perdita; and here fupported, by fhewing no regard for his fon or her, but being taken up entirely with himlelf, though fourfcore three.

WARBURTON.
That

That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,
To die upon the bed my father dy'd,
To lie clofe by his honeft bones; but now
Some hangman must put on my fhrowd, and lay me
Where no priest shovels in duft. O curfed wretch!
[To Perdita.
That knew'ft, this was the Prince; and would'st ad-

venture

To mingle faith with him. Undone, undone!
If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd
To die when I defire.

SCENE IX.

Flo. Why look you fo upon me?
I am but forry, not afraid; delay'd,
But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am;

[Exit

More ftraining on, for plucking back; not following My leafh unwillingly.

Cam. Gracious my Lord,

You know your father's temper: at this time
He will allow no fpeech (which I do guefs,
You do not purpose to him;) and as hardly
Will he endure your fight as yet, I fear;
Then, 'till the fury of his Highnefs fettle,
Come not before him.

Flo. I not purpose it.

I think, Camillo ?

Cam. Even he, my Lord.

Per. How often have I told you, 'twould be thus? How often faid, my dignity would last

But till 'twere known?

Flo. It cannot fail, but by

The violation of my faith, and then

Let nature crush the fides o'th' earth together,
And mar the feeds within-Lift up thy looks-
From my fucceffion wipe me, father, I

Am heir to my affection.

Gam. Be advis❜d.

Flo.

Flo. I am; and by my fancy *;

*; if my reafon Will thereto be obedient, I have reafon;

If not, my fenfes, better pleas'd with madness,
Do bid it welcome.

Cam. This is defperate, Sir.

Flo. So call it; but it does fulfil my vow;
I needs must think it honefty. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereat glean'd; for all the fun fees, or
The close earth wombs, or the profound feas hide
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
To this my fair belov'd: therefore, I pray you,
As you have ever been my father's friend,
When he fhall mifs me, as, in faith, I mean not
To fee him any more, caft your good counfels
Upon his paffion; let myfelf and fortune
Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
And fo deliver, I am put to fea

With her, whom here I cannot hold on fhore;
And, most opportune to our need, I have
A veffel rides faft by, but not prepar'd

For this defign. What courfe I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.

Cam. O my Lord,

I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or ftronger for your need.

Flo. Hark, Perdita

I'll hear you by and by.

Cam. [afide.] He's irremoveable,

[To Camillo,

Refolv'd for flight: now were I happy, if
His going I could frame to ferve my turn;
Save him from danger, do him love and honour;
Purchase the fight again of dear Sicilia,

And that unhappy King, my mafter, whom
I fo much thirft to fee.

It must be remembered that fancy in this authour very aften, as in this place, means love.

Flo. Now, good Camillo

I am fo fraught with curious business, that
I leave out ceremony.
Cam. Sir, I think,

You have heard of my poor fervices, o'th' love
That I have borne your father?
Flo. Very nobly

Have you deferv'd: it is my father's musick
To fpeak your deeds, not little of his care
To have them recompenc'd, as thought on.
Cam. Well, my Lord,

If you may please to think I love the King,
And through him, what's nearest to him, which is
Your gracious felf, embrace but my direction.
If your more ponderous and fettled project
May fuffer alteration, on mine honour,

I'll point you where you fhall have fuch receiving
As fhall become your Highness, where you may
Enjoy your mistress; from the whom, I fee,
There's no disjunction to be made, but by
(As, heav'ns forefend!) your ruin. Marry her,
And with my best endeavours, in your absence,
Your difcontented father I'll ftrive to qualify,
And bring him up to liking.

Flo. How, Camillo,

May this, almost a miracle, be done?

That I may call thee fomething more than man,
And after that truft to thee.

Cam. Have you thought on

A place whereto you'll go?

Flo. Not any yet;

* But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty
Of what we wildly do, fo we profess

Ourfelves to be the flaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.

Cam. Then lift to me.

As chance has driven me to thefe extremities, fo I commit

myfelf to chance to be conducted through them.

"

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