then he has been a monkey trainer; then a
process server, a bailiff;
then he acquired a puppet show about the prodigal son,
and married a tinker's wife within a mile of my land and estate;
and, having tried many dodgy professions, he
took up villainy: some call him Autolycus.
Clown
Out upon him! prig, for my life, prig: he haunts
wakes, fairs and bear-baitings.
Damn him! A tinker and a thief, I swear: he hangs around
festivals, fairs and the bear baiting.
AUTOLYCUS
Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the rogue that
put me into this apparel.
Very true, sir; him, sir, him; that's the scoundrel who
dressed me like this.
Clown
Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia: if you had
but looked big and spit at him, he'ld have run.
There is no more cowardly rascal in all of Bohemia: if you had
just stood tall and spat at him, he'd have run away.
AUTOLYCUS
I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter: I am
false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant
him.
I must confess to you, sir, I am not a fighter: I am
a terrible coward in that way; and I'm sure that he knew that.
Clown
How do you now?
How are you now?
AUTOLYCUS
Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand and
walk: I will even take my leave of you, and pace
softly towards my kinsman's.
Dear sir, much better than I was; I can stand and
walk: I will now say goodbye, and walk
gently to my kinsman's.
Clown
Shall I bring thee on the way?
Do you want me to come with you?
AUTOLYCUS
No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir.
No, kind faced sir; no, sweet sir.
Clown
Then fare thee well: I must go buy spices for our
sheep-shearing.
Then goodbye: I must go and buy spices for our
sheep shearing festival.
AUTOLYCUS
Prosper you, sweet sir!
Exit Clown
Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice.
I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too: if I
make not this cheat bring out another and the
shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled and my name
put in the book of virtue!
Sings
Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
And merrily hent the stile-a:
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
Exit
May you be blessed, sweet sir!
There's not enough in your purse to buy your spices.
I'll come to your sheep shearing too; if I
can't make this trick lead on to another and
fleece those shearers, let me be struck off
the thieves' register and my name
be written in the book of good men!
Jog on, jog on, along the footpath,
and merrily jump the stile:
a merry heart can go all day,
the sad heart tires in a mile.
SCENE IV. The Shepherd's cottage.
Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA
FLORIZEL
These your unusual weeds to each part of you
Do give a life: no shepherdess, but Flora
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the queen on't.
These unusual clothes of yours enhance
every aspect of your beauty: not a shepherdess but the goddess Flora
bringing in the spring. This sheep shearing of yours
is like a meeting of the minor gods,
with you as their queen.
PERDITA
Sir, my gracious lord,
To chide at your extremes it not becomes me:
O, pardon, that I name them! Your high self,
The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured
With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts
In every mess have folly and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, I should blush
To see you so attired, swoon, I think,
To show myself a glass.
Sir, my gracious lord,
it's not my place to criticise what you do:
excuse me for even mentioning it! You have covered
up your great dignity, the person everyone looks up to,
with a peasant's clothes, and I, insignificant girl,
am got up like a goddess: if not for the fact that
our celebrations have foolishness everywhere and
everyone joins in with relish, I would be ashamed
to see you dress like this, and I would faint from embarrassment
if I saw myself in the mirror.
FLORIZEL
I bless the time
When my good falcon made her flight across
Thy father's ground.
I bless the time
when the wings of my fate
brought me to your father's land.
PERDITA
Now Jove afford you cause!
To me the difference forges dread; your greatness
Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble
To think your father, by some accident,
Should pass this way as you did: O, the Fates!
How would he look, to see his work so noble
Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
The sternness of his presence?
Now may Jove give you reason to!
The difference in our rank worries me; you're so high
you're not used to fear. Even now I am trembling
to think that your father, through some mischance,
might come this way just as you did: oh, the luck!
What would he think, if he saw his noble offspring
dressed so shabbily? Or what would you say? And how
would I, in this borrowed finery, cope with
his majestic presence?
FLORIZEL
Apprehend
Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
As I seem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts
Burn hotter than my faith.
Look forward
to nothing but fun. The gods themselves
have taken on the shapes of animals,
humbling their divinity to find love: Jupiter
became a bellowing bull; Neptune from the sea
became a ram and bleated; and the fire clad god,
Golden Apollo, became a poor humble shepherd,
as I am now. They never changed themselves
for such a wonderful beauty,
and they were not as chaste, since my desires
do not outstrip my honour, and my lusts
are not stronger than my good faith.
PERDITA
O, but, sir,
Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king:
One of these two must be necessities,
Which then will speak, that you must
change this purpose,
Or I my life.
Oh, but, sir,
your determination will not last when it is
opposed, as it will be, by the power of the king:
one of these two things must happen
then; you must forget your intentions
or I will lose my life.
FLORIZEL
Thou dearest Perdita,
With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not
The mirth o' the feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle;
Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
Lift up your countenance, as it were the day
Of celebration of that nuptial which
We two have sworn shall come.
You dear Perdita,
please don't spoil the fun of the feast
with these far-fetched thoughts: if I don't have you, my darling,
I'll be no good to my father. I can't be
any good to myself, or do good for anyone, if
I'm not yours. I shall stick to this,
whatever destiny says. Be happy, sweet one;
push away these thoughts with all things
you can see here. Your guests are coming:
put on your best smile, as if it was
the wedding day which we have both sworn
we will come to.
PERDITA
O lady Fortune,
Stand you auspicious!
Oh Lady Fortune,
smile on us!
FLORIZEL
See, your guests approach:
Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.
Enter Shepherd, Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO disguised
See, your guests are coming:
make an effort to give them a jolly welcome,
and let's laugh until we're red in the face.
Shepherd
Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived, upon
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and servant; welcomed all, served all;
Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here,
At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle;
On his shoulder, and his; her face o' fire
With labour and the thing she took to quench it,
She would to each one sip. You are retired,
As if you were a feasted one and not
The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid
These unknown friends to's welcome; for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o' the feast: come on,
And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.
Hello, daughter! When my old wife was alive, on
this day she would be cellarman, butler, cook,
both lady and servant; she welcomed everyone, served everyone;
she would sing and dance; now here,
at the top end of the table, now in the middle;
leaning on his shoulder, then his; her face would be red
with the work, and with the drink she had to cool down
she would toast each of them. You are shy,
as if you were a guest, and not
the hostess of the gathering: please, give
these friends who are strangers to us a welcome; that's
the way to get us better acquainted.
Come, stop blushing, and introduce yourself
as what you are, the mistress of the feast. Come on,
and welcome us to your sheep shearing,
and may your good flock prosper.
PERDITA
[To POLIXENES] Sir, welcome:
It is my father's will I should take on me
The hostess-ship o' the day.
To CAMILLO
You're welcome, sir.
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs,
For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep
Seeming and savour all the winter long:
Grace and remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing!
Sir, welcome:
my father orders that I should be
the hostess for today.
You're welcome, sir.
Dorcas, give me those flowers. Respected gentlemen,
here is rosemary and rue for you; these keep
their looks and scent all winter long:
blessings and friendship to both of you,
and welcome to our shearing!
POLIXENES
Shepherdess,
A fair one are you--well you fit our ages
With flowers of winter.
Shepherdess -
a lovely one you are–you've matched our ages nicely
with the flowers of winter.
PERDITA
Sir, the year growing ancient,
Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth
Of trembling winter, the fairest
flowers o' the season
Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors,
Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind
Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not
To get slips of them.
Sir, the year is getting on,
it's not yet autumn, or the start
of chilly winter, and the loveliest
flowers of this season
are our carnations and multicoloured gillyflowers,
which some call nature's bastards: we don't have
that sort in our rustic garden, and I don't want
to grow them.
POLIXENES
Wherefore, gentle maiden,
Do you neglect them?
Why, gentle maiden,
don't you grow them?
PERDITA
For I have heard it said
There is an art which in their piedness shares
With great creating nature.
Because I have heard it said
that their multicoloured looks
are artificially created.
POLIXENES
Say there be;
Yet nature is made better by no mean
But nature makes that mean: so, over that art
Which you say adds to nature, is an art
That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry
A gentler scion to the wildest stock,
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
By bud of nobler race: this is an art
Which does mend nature, change it rather, but
The art itself is nature.
What if they are;
nature can only be made better
by things she has created herself: so
what you call artificial is in fact
made by men, who are made by nature.
You see, sweet maid, we graft
a gentle nature onto the wildest plants,
and improve the lower things
by adding the seed of a nobler race: this is an art
which corrects nature–or rather changes it–but
it is still nature.
PERDITA
So it is.
Yes it is.
POLIXENES
Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,
And do not call them bastards.
So fill your garden with gillyflowers,
and do not call them bastards.
PERDITA
I'll not put
The dibble in earth to se
t one slip of them;
No more than were I painted I would wish
This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore
Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun
And with him rises weeping: these are flowers
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age. You're very welcome.
I wouldn't put
the hoe into the earth to plant a single one of them;
no more so than if I wore makeup and
this youth said he liked it and only wanted
to breed with me because of it. Here are flowers for you;
hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram;
the marigold, which goes to sleep with the sun
and rises with the dew: these are the flowers
of the middle of summer, and I think I'm giving them
to men of middle age. You're very welcome.
CAMILLO
I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
And only live by gazing.
If I was one of your flock I would give up grazing
and just spend my life gazing.
PERDITA
Out, alas!
You'd be so lean, that blasts of January
Would blow you through and through.
Now, my fair'st friend,
I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing: O Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bight Phoebus in his strength--a malady
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 444