The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  270

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

  were present. Why should I carry lies abroad?

  MOPSA Pray you now, buy it.

  CLOWN Come on, lay it by: and let’s first see moe

  ballads: we’ll buy the other things anon.

  275

  AUTOLYCUS Here’s another ballad of a fish that

  appeared upon the coast on Wednesday the fourscore

  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

  280

  fish for she would not exchange flesh with one that

  loved her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.

  DORCAS Is it true too, think you?

  AUTOLYCUS Five justices’ hands at it, and witnesses

  more than my pack will hold.

  285

  CLOWN Lay it by too: another.

  AUTOLYCUS This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty

  one.

  MOPSA Let’s have some merry ones.

  AUTOLYCUS Why, this is a passing merry one and goes

  290

  to the tune of ’Two maids wooing a man’: there’s

  scarce a maid westward but she sings it; ’tis in request,

  I can tell you.

  MOPSA We can both sing it: if thou’lt bear a part, thou

  shalt hear; ’tis in three parts.

  295

  DORCAS We had the tune on’t a month ago.

  AUTOLYCUS I can bear my part; you must know ’tis my

  occupation: have at it with you:

  Song.

  AUTOLYCUS Get you hence, for I must go

  Where it fits not you to know.

  300

  D. Whither? M. O whither? D. Whither?

  MOPSA It becomes thy oath full well,

  Thou to me thy secrets tell:

  D. Me too: let me go thither.

  MOPSA Or thou goest to th’ grange or mill:

  305

  DORCAS If to either, thou dost ill.

  A. Neither. D. What neither? A. Neither.

  DORCAS Thou hast sworn my love to be;

  MOPSA Thou hast sworn it more to me:

  Then whither goest? say whither?

  310

  CLOWN We’ll have this song out anon by ourselves: my

  father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we’ll

  not trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after

  me. Wenches, I’ll buy for you both. Pedlar, let’s have

  the first choice. Follow me, girls.

  315

  Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa.

  AUTOLYCUS And you shall pay well for ’em.

  Song.

  Will you buy any tape,

  Or lace for your cape,

  My dainty duck, my dear-a?

  Any silk, any thread,

  320

  Any toys for your head,

  Of the new’st, and fin’st, fin’st wear-a?

  Come to the pedlar;

  Money’s a meddler,

  That doth utter all men’s ware-a. Exit.

  325

  Enter Servant.

  SERVANT 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 in’t:

  330

  but they themselves are o’the mind (if it be not too

  rough for some that know little but bowling) it will

  please plentifully.

  SHEPHERD Away! we’ll none on’t: here has been too

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

  335

  you.

  POLIXENES You weary those that refresh us: pray, let’s

  see these four threes of herdsmen.

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

  hath danced before the king; and not the worst of the

  340

  three but jumps twelve foot and a half by th’ square.

  SHEPHERD Leave your prating: since these good men

  are pleased, let them come in; but quickly now.

  SERVANT Why, they stay at door, sir.

  [Here a dance of twelve Satyrs.]

  POLIXENES

  O, father, you’ll know more of that hereafter.

  345

  [to Camillo] Is it not too far gone? ’Tis time to part them.

  He’s simple and tells much.

  [to Florizel] How now, fair shepherd!

  Your heart is full of something that does take

  Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young

  And handed love, as you do, I was wont

  350

  To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack’d

  The pedlar’s silken treasury, and have pour’d it

  To her acceptance: you have let him go,

  And nothing marted with him. If your lass

  Interpretation should abuse, and call this

  355

  Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited

  For a reply, at least if you make a care

  Of happy holding her.

  FLORIZEL Old sir, I know

  She prizes not such trifles as these are:

  The gifts she looks from me are pack’d and lock’d

  360

  Up in my heart, which I have given already,

  But not deliver’d. O hear me breathe my life

  Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,

  Hath sometime lov’d. I take thy hand, this hand,

  As soft as dove’s down and as white as it,

  365

  Or Ethiopian’s tooth, or the fann’d snow that’s bolted

  By th’ northern blasts twice o’er.

  POLIXENES What follows this?

  How prettily the young swain seems to wash

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

  But to your protestation: let me hear

  370

  What you profess.

  FLORIZEL Do, and be witness to ’t.

  POLIXENES And this my neighbour too?

  FLORIZEL And he, and more

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

  That were I crown’d the most imperial monarch

  Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth

  375

  That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge

  More than was ever man’s, I would not prize them

  Without her love; for her, employ them all;

  Commend them and condemn them to her service,

  Or to their own perdition.

  POLIXENES Fairly offer’d.

  380

  CAMILLO This shows a sound affection.

  SHEPHERD But my daughter,

  Say you the like to him?

  PERDITA I cannot speak

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

  By th’ pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out

  The purity of his.

  SHEPHERD Take hands, a bargain!

  385

  And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to ’t.

  I give my daughter to him, and will make

  Her portion equal his.

  FLORIZEL O, that must be

  I’th’ virtue of your daughter: one being dead,

  I shall have more than you can dream of yet;

  390

  Enough then for your wonder. But come on,

  Contract us ’fore these witnesses.

  SHEPHERD Come, your hand;

  And, daughter, yours.

  POLIXENES Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you;

  Have you a father?

  FLORIZEL I have: but what of hi
m?

  POLIXENES Knows he of this?

  FLORIZEL He neither does nor shall.

  395

  POLIXENES Methinks a father

  Is at the nuptial of his son a guest

  That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,

  Is not your father grown incapable

  Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid

  400

  With age and alt’ring rheums? can he speak? hear?

  Know man from man? dispute his own estate?

  Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing

  But what he did being childish?

  FLORIZEL No, good sir;

  He has his health, and ampler strength indeed

  405

  Than most have of his age.

  POLIXENES By my white beard,

  You offer him, if this be so, a wrong

  Something unfilial: reason my son

  Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason

  The father (all whose joy is nothing else

  410

  But fair posterity) should hold some counsel

  In such a business.

  FLORIZEL I yield all this;

  But for some other reasons, my grave sir,

  Which ’tis not fit you know, I not acquaint

  My father of this business.

  POLIXENES Let him know’t.

  415

  FLORIZEL He shall not.

  POLIXENES Prithee, let him.

  FLORIZEL No, he must not.

  SHEPHERD

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

  At knowing of thy choice.

  FLORIZEL Come, come, he must not.

  Mark our contract.

  POLIXENES Mark your divorce, young sir,

  [discovering himself]

  Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base

  420

  To be acknowledg’d: thou a sceptre’s heir,

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

  I am sorry that by hanging thee I can

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

  Of excellent witchcraft, who, of force, must know

  425

  The royal fool thou cop’st with, –

  SHEPHERD O, my heart!

  POLIXENES

  I’ll have thy beauty scratch’d with briers and made

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

  If I may ever know thou dost but sigh

  That thou no more shalt see this knack (as never

  430

  I mean thou shalt), we’ll bar thee from succession;

  Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,

  Farre 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

  435

  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,

  440

  Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,

  I will devise a death as cruel for thee

  As thou art tender to’t. Exit.

  PERDITA Even here, undone,

  I was not much afeard; for once or twice

  I was about to speak, and tell him plainly,

  445

  The selfsame sun that shines upon his court

  Hides not his visage from our cottage, but

  Looks on alike. Will’t 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 –

  450

  Being now awake, I’ll queen it no inch farther,

  But milk my ewes, and weep.

  CAMILLO Why, how now, father!

  Speak ere thou diest.

  SHEPHERD I cannot speak, nor think,

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

  You have undone a man of fourscore three,

  455

  That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,

  To die upon the bed my father died,

  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,

  460

  That knew’st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure

  To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone!

  If I might die within this hour, I have liv’d

  To die when I desire. Exit.