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By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his,

She. Take hands, a bargain;

And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't
I give my daughter to him, and will make
Her portion equal his.

F10. O, that must be

I'the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,
I fhall have more than you can dream of yet;
Enough then for your wonder: But, come on,
Contract us 'fore these witneffes.

She. Come, your

And, daughter, yours.

hand;

Poz. Soft, fwain, a while, befeech you;

Have you a father?

FLO. I have: But what of him?

POL. Knows he of this?

FLO. He neither does, nor fhall.

POL. Methinks, a father

Is, at the nuptial of his fon, a guest

That beft becomes the table. Pray you, once more; Is not your father grown incapable

Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid

With age, and alt'ring rheums? Can he fpeak? hear
Know man from man? difpute his own estate?

Lies he not bed-rid ? and again does nothing,
But what he did being childish?

FLO. No, good fir;

He has his health, and ampler ftrength, indeed,
Than most have of his age.

Poz. By my white beard,

You offer him, if this be fo, a wrong

Something unfilial: Reason, my fon

Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else
But fair pofterity) fhould hold fome counfel
In fuch a business.

FLO. I yield all this;

But, for fome other reasons, my grave fir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this business.

POL. Let him know't.
FLO. He fhall not.

Poz. Pr'ythee, let him.

FLO. No, he must not.

She. Let him, my fon; he shall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice.

FLO. Come, come, he must not :—

Mark our contract.

[Jelf.

Poz. Mark your divorce, young fir, [difcovering himWhom fon I dare not call; thou art too base, To be acknowledg'd: Thou a fcepter's heir, That thus affect'ft a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor, I am forry, that, by hanging thee, I can but Shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece Of excellent witch-craft; who, of force, must know The royal fool thou cop'dft with;

She. O, my heart!

[made POL. I'll have thy beauty fcratch'd with briars, and More homely than thy ftate.

For thee, fond boy, —

If I may ever know, thou doft but figh,

That thou no more fhalt see this knack, (as never
I mean thou fhalt) we'll bar thee from fucceffion;
Not hold thee of our blood, no not our kin,

21 affects 30 fhalt never fee

Far as Deucalion off: Mark thou my words;

Follow us to the court. Thou, churl,- for this time,
Though full of our difpleasure, yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment,
Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him † too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee, -if ever, henceforth, thou
These rural latches to his entrance open,
Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
I will devise a death as cruel for thee,
As thou art tender to't.

PER. Even here undone !

[Exit POLIXENES.

I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,
I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,
The self-fame fun, that fhines upon his court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but

Looks on alike.Wilt please you, fir, be gone?
I told you, what would come of this: Befeech you,
Of your own ftate 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?
Speak, ere thou dy'ft.

She. I cannot fpeak, nor think,

Nor dare to know that which I know. - O, fir,
You have undone a man of fourscore three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,
To dye upon the bed my father dy'd,
To lye close by his honest bones: but now

Some hangman muft put on my fhrowd, and lay me
Where no priest shovels-in duft.-O curfed wretch;
That knew'ft this was the prince, and would'ft adventure

'Farre than Deu- 9 Or hope

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

FLO. Why look you fo

upon me?

I am but forry, not afear'd; delay'd,

[Exit Shepherd.

But nothing alter'd: What I was, I am :

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 speech, which, I do guess,
You do not purpose to him; and as hardly
Will he endure your fight as yet, I fear:
Then, 'till the fury of his highness settle,
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 laft

But 'till 'twere known?

FLO. It cannot fail, but by

The violation of my faith; And then

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

Am heir to my affection.

CAM. Be advis'd.

FLO. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
If not, my fenfes, better pleas'd with madness,
Do bid it welcome.

26 From my fucc

CAM. This is defp'rate, fir.

FLO. So call it: but it does fulfill 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 fea hides
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 shall 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, moft oppórtune to the need, I have
A veffel rides fast 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. He's irremoveable,

[drawing her afde.

Resolv'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 master, whom
I fo much thirst to fee.

feas 16 to her neede

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