As twere my daughters eyes: and, to be plain.


I think there is not half a kiss to choose


So she does any thing; though I report it,


That should be silent: if young Doricles


Do light upon her, she shall bring him that


O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the


door, you would never dance again after a tabour and


pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you: he sings


several tunes faster than youll tell money; he


utters them as he had eaten ballads and all mens


He could never come better; he shall come in. I


love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful


matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing


He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes; no


milliner can so fit his customers with gloves: he


has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without


bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate


burthens of dildos and fadings, jump her and thump


her; and where some stretch-mouthed rascal would,


as it were, mean mischief and break a foul gap into


the matter, he makes the maid to answer Whoop, do me


no harm, good man; puts him off, slights him, with


Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited


He hath ribbons of an the colours i the rainbow;


points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can


learnedly handle, though they come to him by the


gross: inkles, caddisses, cambrics, lawns: why, he


sings em over as they were gods or goddesses; you


would think a smock were a she-angel, he so chants


to the sleeve-hand and the work about the square ont.


Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing.


Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in s tunes.


You have of these pedlars, that have more in them


Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;


Buy lads, or else your lasses cry: Come buy.


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 ribbons and gloves.


I was promised them against the feast; but they come


He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars.


He hath paid you all he promised you; may be, he has


paid you more, which will shame you to give him again.


Is there no manners left among maids? will they


wear their plackets where they should bear their


faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are


going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle off these


secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all


our guests? tis well they are whispering: clamour


I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace


Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the way


And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad;


Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here.


I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.


Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print o


life, for then we are sure they are true.


Heres one to a very doleful tune, how a usurers


wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a


burthen and how she longed to eat adders heads and


Heres the midwifes name tot, one Mistress


Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives that were


present. Why should I carry lies abroad?


Come on, lay it by: and lets first see moe


ballads; well buy the other things anon.


Heres another ballad of a fish, that appeared upon


the coast on Wednesday the four-score of April,


forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this


ballad against the hard hearts of maids: it was


thought she was a woman and was turned into a cold


fish for she would not exchange flesh with one that


loved her: the ballad is very pitiful and as true.


Five justices hands at it, and witnesses more than


This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.


Why, this is a passing merry one and goes to


the tune of Two maids wooing a man: theres


scarce a maid westward but she sings it; tis in


We can both sing it: if thoult bear a part, thou


I can bear my part; you must know tis my


Well have this song out anon by ourselves: my


father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and well


not trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after


me. Wenches, Ill buy for you both. Pedlar, lets


have the first choice. Follow me, girls.


Master, there is three carters, three shepherds,


three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made


themselves all men of hair, they call themselves


Saltiers, and they have a dance which the wenches


say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are


not int; but they themselves are o the mind, if it


be not too rough for some that know little but


Away! well none on t: here has been too much


homely foolery already. I know, sir, we weary you.


You weary those that refresh us: pray, lets see


One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath


danced before the king; and not the worst of the


three but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squier.


Leave your prating: since these good men are


pleased, let them come in; but quickly now.


O, father, youll know more of that hereafter.


Is it not too far gone? Tis time to part them.


Your heart is full of something that does take


Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young


To load my she with knacks: I would have ransackd


The pedlars silken treasury and have pourd it


And nothing marted with him. If your lass


Interpretation should abuse and call this


Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited


For a reply, at least if you make a care


She prizes not such trifles as these are:


The gifts she looks from me are packd and lockd


Up in my heart; which I have given already,


But not deliverd. O, hear me breathe my life


Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,


Hath sometime loved! I take thy hand, this hand,


As soft as doves down and as white as it,


How prettily the young swain seems to wash


The hand was fair before! I have put you out:


Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all:


That, were I crownd the most imperial monarch,


Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth


That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge


More than was ever mans, I would not prize them


Without her love; for her employ them all;


Commend them and condemn them to her service


So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better:


By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out


And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to t:


I give my daughter to him, and will make


I the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,


I shall have more than you can dream of yet;


Enough then for your wonder. But, come on,


That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,


With age and altering rheums? can he speak? hear?


Know man from man? dispute his own estate?


Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing


He has his health and ampler strength indeed


Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason


The father, all whose joy is nothing else


But fair posterity, should hold some counsel


But for some other reasons, my grave sir,


Which tis not fit you know, I not acquaint


Let him, my son: he shall not need to grieve


Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base


To be acknowledged: thou a sceptres heir,


That thus affectst a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor,


But shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece


Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know


Ill have thy beauty scratchd with briers, and made


More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,


That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never


I mean thou shalt, well bar thee from succession;


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,


Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee


From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment.--


That makes himself, but for our honour therein,


These rural latches to his entrance open,


Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,


I was not much afeard; for once or twice


I was about to speak and tell him plainly,


The selfsame sun that shines upon his court


Hides not his visage from our cottage but


Looks on alike. Willt please you, sir, be gone?


I told you what would come of this: beseech you,


Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,--


Being now awake, Ill queen it no inch farther,


Nor dare to know that which I know. O sir!


You have undone a man of fourscore three,


That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,


To lie close by his honest bones: but now


Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me


Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch,


To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone!


If I might die within this hour, I have lived


More straining on for plucking back, not following


You know your fathers 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 sight as yet, I fear:


Then, till the fury of his highness settle,


How often have I told you twould be thus!


Let nature crush the sides o the earth together


And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks:


Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;


If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,


Be thereat gleand, for all the sun sees or


The close earth wombs or the profound sea hides


In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath


To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you,


As you have ever been my fathers honourd friend,


When he shall miss me,--as, in faith, I mean not


To see him any more,--cast your good counsels


Upon his passion; let myself and fortune


Tug for the time to come. This you may know


With her whom here I cannot hold on shore;


A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared


For this design. What course I mean to hold


Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor


I would your spirit were easier for advice,


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


I am so fraught with curious business that


You have heard of my poor services, i the love


Have you deserved: it is my fathers music


To speak your deeds, not little of his care


If you may please to think I love the king


And through him what is nearest to him, which is


Your gracious self, embrace but my direction:


If your more ponderous and settled project


Ill point you where you shall have such receiving


As shall become your highness; where you may


Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see,


Theres no disjunction to be made, but by--


As heavens forefend!--your ruin; marry her,


And, with my best endeavours in your absence,


Your discontenting father strive to qualify


That I may call thee something more than man


But as the unthought-on accident is guilty


Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies


This follows, if you will not change your purpose


But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia,


And there present yourself and your fair princess,


Leontes opening his free arms and weeping


His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness,


As twere i the fathers person; kisses the hands


Of your fresh princess; oer and oer divides him


Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one


He chides to hell and bids the other grow


To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,


The manner of your bearing towards him, with


What you as from your father shall deliver,


Things known betwixt us three, Ill write you down:


The which shall point you forth at every sitting


What you must say; that he shall not perceive


But that you have your fathers bosom there


To unpathd waters, undreamd shores, most certain


To miseries enough; no hope to help you,


But as you shake off one to take another;


Do their best office, if they can but stay you


Where youll be loath to be: besides you know


Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together


I think affliction may subdue the cheek,


There shall not at your fathers house these


She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress


But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo,


The medicine of our house, how shall we do?


Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes


Do all lie there: it shall be so my care


The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,


That you may know you shall not want, one word.


Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his


sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold


all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a


ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad,


knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring,


to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who


should buy first, as if my trinkets had been


hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer:


by which means I saw whose purse was best in


picture; and what I saw, to my good use I


remembered. My clown, who wants but something to


be a reasonable man, grew so in love with the


wenches song, that he would not stir his pettitoes


till he had both tune and words; which so drew the


rest of the herd to me that all their other senses


stuck in ears: you might have pinched a placket, it


was senseless; twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a


purse; I could have filed keys off that hung in


chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sirs song,


and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this


time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their


festival purses; and had not the old man come in


with a whoo-bub against his daughter and the kings


son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not


CAMILLO, FLORIZEL, and PERDITA come forward


Nay, but my letters, by this means being there


So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.


And those that youll procure from King Leontes--


If they have overheard me now, why, hanging.


How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear


not, man; heres no harm intended to thee.


Why, be so still; heres 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 theres a necessity int,--and


change garments with this gentleman: though the


pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee,


Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half


Indeed, I have had earnest: but I cannot with


FLORIZEL and AUTOLYCUS exchange garments


Come home to ye!--you must retire yourself


Into some covert: take your sweethearts hat


And pluck it oer your brows, muffle your face,


Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken


The truth of your own seeming; that you may--


[Aside]  What I do next, shall be to tell the king


Of this escape and whither they are bound;


Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side.


I understand the business, I hear it: to have an


open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is


necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite


also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see


this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive.


What an exchange had this been without boot! What


a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do


this year connive at us, and we may do any thing


extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of


iniquity, stealing away from his father with his


clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of


honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not


dot: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it;


and therein am I constant to my profession.


Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain:


every lanes end, every shop, church, session,


There is no other way but to tell the king


shes a changeling and none of your flesh and blood.


She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh


and blood has not offended the king; and so your


flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show


those things you found about her, those secret


things, all but what she has with her: this being


done, let the law go whistle: I warrant you.


I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his


sons pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man,


neither to his father nor to me, to go about to make


Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you


could have been to him and then your blood had been


Well, let us to the king: there is that in this


[Aside]  I know not what impediment this complaint


[Aside]  Though I am not naturally honest, I am so


sometimes by chance: let me pocket up my pedlars excrement.


How now, rustics! whither are you bound?


Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condition


of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your


names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and any


thing that is fitting to be known, discover.


A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no


lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and they


often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for


it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore


Your worship had like to have given us one, if you


Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest


thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings?


hath not my gait in it the measure of the court?


receives not thy nose court-odor from me? reflect I


not on thy baseness court-contempt? Thinkest thou,


for that I insinuate, or toaze from thee thy


business, I am therefore no courtier? I am courtier


cap-a-pe; and one that will either push on or pluck


back thy business there: whereupon I command thee to


Advocates the court-word for a pheasant: say you


None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen.


How blessed are we that are not simple men!


Yet nature might have made me as these are,


He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical:


a great man, Ill warrant; I know by the picking


Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box,


which none must know but the king; and which he


shall know within this hour, if I may come to the


The king is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a


new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: for,


if thou beest capable of things serious, thou must


So tis said, sir; about his son, that should have


If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly:


the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall


feel, will break the back of man, the heart of monster.


Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy


and vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to


him, though removed fifty times, shall all come


under the hangman: which though it be great pity,


yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling rogue a


ram-tender, to offer to have his daughter come into


grace! Some say he shall be stoned; but that death


is too soft for him, say Idraw our throne into a


sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy.


Has the old man eer a son, sir, do you hear. ant


He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then


nointed over with honey, set on the head of a


wasps nest; then stand till he be three quarters


and a dram dead; then recovered again with


aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; then, raw as


he is, and in the hottest day prognostication


proclaims, shall be be set against a brick-wall, the


sun looking with a southward eye upon him, where he


is to behold him with flies blown to death. But what


talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries


are to be smiled at, their offences being so


capital? Tell me, for you seem to be honest plain


men, what you have to the king: being something


gently considered, Ill bring you where he is


aboard, tender your persons to his presence,


whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be in man


besides the king to effect your suits, here is man


He seems to be of great authority: close with him,


give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn


bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold: show


the inside of your purse to the outside of his hand,


and no more ado. Remember stoned, and flayed alive.


Ant please you, sir, to undertake the business for


us, here is that gold I have: Ill make it as much


more and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you.


Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this business?


In some sort, sir: but though my case be a pitiful


one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it.


O, thats the case of the shepherds son: hang him,


Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king and show


our strange sights: he must know tis none of your


daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I


will give you as much as this old man does when the


business is performed, and remain, as he says, your


I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side;


go on the right hand: I will but look upon the


We are blest in this man, as I may say, even blest.


Lets before as he bids us: he was provided to do us good.


If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would


not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am


courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means


to do the prince my master good; which who knows how


that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring


these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he


think it fit to shore them again and that the


complaint they have to the king concerns him


nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far


officious; for I am proof against that title and


what shame else belongs tot. To him will I present


Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, and Servants


Sir, you have done enough, and have performd


A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make,


Which you have not redeemd; indeed, paid down


More penitence than done trespass: at the last,


Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil;


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


Destroyd the sweetst companion that eer man


If, one by one, you wedded all the world,


Or from the all that are took something good,


She I killd! I did so: but thou strikest me


Upon thy tongue as in my thought: now, good now,


You might have spoken a thousand things that would


Have done the time more benefit and graced


You pity not the state, nor the remembrance


Of his most sovereign name; consider little


What dangers, by his highness fail of issue,


Incertain lookers on. What were more holy


Than to rejoice the former queen is well?


For present comfort and for future good,


Respecting her thats gone. Besides, the gods


Will have fulfilld their secret purposes;


That King Leontes shall not have an heir


Till his lost child be found? which that it shall,


Did perish with the infant. Tis your counsel


My lord should to the heavens be contrary,


The crown will find an heir: great Alexander


Left his to the worthiest; so his successor


Had squared me to thy counsel! then, even now,


I might have lookd upon my queens full eyes,


No more such wives; therefore, no wife: one worse,


And better used, would make her sainted spirit


Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,


Where were offenders now, appear soul-vexd,


Were I the ghost that walkd, Ild bid you mark


Her eye, and tell me for what dull part int


You chose her; then Ild shriek, that even your ears


Should rift to hear me; and the words that followd


And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;


Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.


Yet, if my lord will marry,--if you will, sir,


No remedy, but you will,--give me the office


To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young


As was your former; but she shall be such


Shall be when your first queens again in breath;


One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,


Son of Polixenes, with his princess, she


The fairest I have yet beheld, desires access


Like to his fathers greatness: his approach,


So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us


Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think,


Give way to whats seen now! Sir, you yourself


Have said and writ so, but your writing now


Is colder than that theme, She had not been,


Nor was not to be equalld;--thus your verse


Flowd with her beauty once: tis shrewdly ebbd,


The one I have almost forgot,--your pardon,--


The other, when she has obtaind your eye,


Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,


Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal


Women will love her, that she is a woman


More worth than any man; men, that she is


Yourself, assisted with your honourd friends,


Bring them to our embracement. Still, tis strange


Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had paird


Well with this lord: there was not full a month


He dies to me again when talkd of: sure,


When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches


Will bring me to consider that which may


Re-enter CLEOMENES and others, with FLORIZEL and PERDITA


Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;


For she did print your royal father off,


His very air, that I should call you brother,


As I did him, and speak of something wildly


By us performd before. Most dearly welcome!


And your fair princess,--goddess!--O, alas!


I lost a couple, that twixt heaven and earth


Might thus have stood begetting wonder as


You, gracious couple, do: and then I lost--


Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,


Can send his brother: and, but infirmity


Which waits upon worn times hath something seized


The lands and waters twixt your throne and his


Measured to look upon you; whom he loves--


He bade me say so--more than all the sceptres


Good gentleman! the wrongs I have done thee stir


Afresh within me, and these thy offices,


Of my behind-hand slackness. Welcome hither,


As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too


Exposed this paragon to the fearful usage,


At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,


To greet a man not worth her pains, much less


That noble honourd lord, is feard and loved?


Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose daughter


His tears proclaimd his, parting with her: thence,


A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have crossd,


For visiting your highness: my best train


I have from your Sicilian shores dismissd;


Purge all infection from our air whilst you


Do climate here! You have a holy father,


A graceful gentleman; against whose person,


For which the heavens, taking angry note,


Have left me issueless; and your fathers blest,


Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,


Might I a son and daughter now have lookd on,


That which I shall report will bear no credit,


Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,


Desires you to attach his son, who has--


Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with


Whiles he was hastening, in the chase, it seems,


Of this fair couple, meets he on the way


Her brother, having both their country quitted


Has these poor men in question. Never saw I


Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth;


Forswear themselves as often as they speak:


Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them


The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have


The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:


That once I see by your good fathers speed


Most sorry, you have broken from his liking


Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry


Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,


Should chase us with my father, power no jot


Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir,


Than I do now: with thought of such affections,


Step forth mine advocate; at your request


My father will grant precious things as trifles.


Would he do so, Ild beg your precious mistress,


Your eye hath too much youth int: not a month


Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes


Is yet unanswerd. I will to your father:


Your honour not oerthrown by your desires,


I am friend to them and you: upon which errand


I now go toward him; therefore follow me


And mark what way I make: come, good my lord.


Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?


I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the old


shepherd deliver the manner how he found it:


whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all


commanded out of the chamber; only this methought I


heard the shepherd say, he found the child.


I would most gladly know the issue of it.


I make a broken delivery of the business; but the


changes I perceived in the king and Camillo were


very notes of admiration: they seemed almost, with


staring on one another, to tear the cases of their


eyes; there was speech in their dumbness, language


in their very gesture; they looked as they had heard


of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: a notable


passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest


beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not


say if the importance were joy or sorrow; but in the


Here comes a gentleman that haply knows more.


Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the


kings daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is


broken out within this hour that ballad-makers


Here comes the Lady Paulinas steward: he can


deliver you more. 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 suspicion: has the king


Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by


circumstance: that which you hear youll swear you


see, there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle


of Queen Hermiones, 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 kings daughter. Did you see


Then have you lost a sight, which was to be seen,


cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one


joy crown another, so and in such manner that it


seemed sorrow wept to take leave of them, for their


joy waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes,


holding up of hands, with countenances of such


distraction that they were to be known by garment,


not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of


himself for joy of his found daughter, as if that


joy were now become a loss, cries O, thy mother,


thy mother! then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then


embraces his son-in-law; then again worries he his


daughter with clipping her; now he thanks the old


shepherd, which stands by like a weather-bitten


conduit of many kings reigns. I never heard of such


another encounter, which lames report to follow it


What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried


Like an old tale still, which will have matter to


rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear


open. He was torn to pieces with a bear: this


avouches the shepherds son; who has not only his


innocence, which seems much, to justify him, but a


handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina knows.


What became of his bark and his followers?


Wrecked the same instant of their masters death and


in the view of the shepherd: so that all the


instruments which aided to expose the child were


even then lost when it was found. But O, the noble


combat that twixt joy and sorrow was fought in


Paulina! She had one eye declined for the loss of


her husband, another elevated that the oracle was


fulfilled: she lifted the princess from the earth,


and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin


her to her heart that she might no more be in danger


The dignity of this act was worth the audience of


kings and princes; for by such was it acted.


One of the prettiest touches of all and that which


angled for mine eyes, caught the water though not


the fish, was when, at the relation of the queens


death, with the manner how she came tot bravely


attentiveness wounded his daughter; till, from one


sign of dolour to another, she did, with an Alas,


I would fain say, bleed tears, for I am sure my


heart wept blood. Who was most marble there changed


colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world


could have seen t, the woe had been universal.


No: the princess hearing of her mothers statue,


which is in the keeping of Paulina,--a piece many


years in doing and now newly performed by that rare


Italian master, Julio Romano, 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, and there they intend to sup.


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


Who would be thence that has the benefit of access?


every wink of an eye some new grace will be born:


our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge.


Now, had I not the 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, overfond of the shepherds daughter,


so he 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 tis 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.


Come, boy; I am past moe children, but thy sons and


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.


I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.


Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.


So you have: but I was a gentleman born before my


father; for the kings 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 wept, and there was the first gentleman-like


Ay; or else twere hard luck, being in so


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.


Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are


Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou


art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.


Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and


If it be neer so false, a true gentleman may swear


it in the behalf of his friend: and Ill 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 Ill swear it, and I would thou wouldst


Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if I do not


wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not


being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark! the kings


and the princes, our kindred, are going to see the


queens picture. Come, follow us: well be thy


Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA, CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords, and Attendants


O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort


I did not well I meant well. All my services


You have paid home: but that you have vouchsafed,


With your crownd brother and these your contracted


Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,


It is a surplus of your grace, which never


To see the statue of our queen: your gallery


Have we passd through, not without much content


That which my daughter came to look upon,


So her dead likeness, I do well believe,


Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it


Still sleep mockd death: behold, and say tis well.


PAULINA draws a curtain, and discovers HERMIONE standing like a statue


I like your silence, it the more shows off


Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege,


Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed


Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she


In thy not chiding, for she was as tender


Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing


So much the more our carvers excellence;


Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her


Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,


Even with such life of majesty, warm life,


As now it coldly stands, when first I wood her!


I am ashamed: does not the stone rebuke me


For being more stone than it? O royal piece,


From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,


I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady,


Dear queen, that ended when I but began,


The statue is but newly fixd, the colours Not dry.


My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,


Let him that was the cause of this have power


To take off so much grief from you as he


If I had thought the sight of my poor image


Would thus have wrought you,--for the stone is mine--


No longer shall you gaze ont, lest your fancy


Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already--


What was he that did make it? See, my lord,


Would you not deem it breathed? and that those veins


Make me to think so twenty years together!


No settled senses of the world can match


The pleasure of that madness. Let t alone.


I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirrd you: but


For this affliction has a taste as sweet


As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks,


There is an air comes from her: what fine chisel


Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,


Youll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own


With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?


Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you


For more amazement. If you can behold it,


Ill make the statue move indeed, descend


And take you by the hand; but then youll think--


You do awake your faith. Then all stand still;


On: those that think it is unlawful business


Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;


Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come,


Ill fill your grave up: stir, nay, come away,


Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him


Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs:


You hear my spell is lawful: do not shun her


You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:


When she was young you wood her; now in age


If she pertain to life let her speak too.


Ay, and maket manifest where she has lived,


Were it but told you, should be hooted at


Like an old tale: but it appears she lives,


Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.


Please you to interpose, fair madam: kneel


And pray your mothers blessing. Turn, good lady;


And from your sacred vials pour your graces


Upon my daughters head! Tell me, mine own.


Where hast thou been preserved? where lived? how found


Thy fathers court? for thou shalt hear that I,


Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved


Lest they desire upon this push to trouble


Your joys with like relation. Go together,


You precious winners all; your exultation


Will wing me to some witherd bough and there


Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,


And made betweens by vows. Thou hast found mine;


But how, is to be questiond; for I saw her,


As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many


A prayer upon her grave. Ill not seek far--


For him, I partly know his mind--to find thee


And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty


By us, a pair of kings. Lets from this place.


What! look upon my brother: both your pardons,


My ill suspicion. This is your son-in-law,


And son unto the king, who, heavens directing,


Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,


Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely


Performd in this wide gap of time since first