The deferts of Bohemia?

Mar. Ay, my Lord; and fear,

We've landed in ill time: the fkies look grimly, And threaten present blufters. In my confcience, The heav'ns with what we have in hand are angry, And frown upon's.

Ant. Their facred wills be done! get thee aboard, Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before I call upon

thee.

Mar. Make your best hafte, and go not

Too far i'th' land; 'tis like to be loud weather.
Befides, this place is famous for the creatures

Of prey, that keep upon't.

Ant. Go thou away.

I'll follow inftantly.

Mar. I'm glad at heart to be fo rid o'th' business.

Ant. Come, poor babe; I have heard,
But not believ'd, the fpirits of the dead
May walk again; if fuch thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me laft night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one fide, fome another,
I never faw a veffel of like forrow
So fill'd, and fo becoming; in pure
Like very fanctity, fhe did approach

white robes,

[Exit.

My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me, And gafping to begin fome fpeech, her eyes Became two spouts; the fury fpent, anon Did this break from her. "Good Antigonus, "Since fate, against thy better disposition, "Hath made thy perfon for the thrower-out "Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, "Places remote enough are in Bohemia, "There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe " Is counted loft for ever and ever, Perdita, "I pry'thee, call't. For this ungentle business, "Put on thee by my Lord, thou ne'er fhall fee

Thy

"Thy wife Paulina more.”—And so, with fhrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,

I did in time collect myself, and thought
This was fo, and no flumber : Dreams are toys,
Yet for this once, yea, fuperftitiously,
I will be fquar'd by this. I do believe,
Hermione hath fuffer'd death; and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the iffue
Of King Polixenes, it fhould here be laid,
Either for life or death, upon the earth
Of his right father. Bloffom, fpeed thee well!

[Laying down the child.

There lie, and there thy character: there thefe,

Which may,

one,

[Laying down a bundle. if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty

And still reft thine. The ftorm begins!-Poor wretch,
That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd
To lofs, and what may follow-weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds: and most accurft am I
To be by oath enjoin'd to this-Farewel!

The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never faw

The heav'ns fo dim by day. A favage clamour* !Well may I get aboard-this is the chace;

I am gone for ever.

[Exit, purfued by a bear.

Shep. I would there were no age between ten and three and twenty, or that youth would fleep out the reft for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, ftealing,

A favage clamour.] This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters; then feeing the

bear, he cries, this is the chace, or, the animal purfued.

fighting-hark you now!-would any but these boil'd brains of nineteen, and two and twenty, hunt this weather? They have fcar'd away two of my best fheep, which, I fear, the wolf will fooner find than the mafter; if any where I have them, 'tis by the seafide, brouzing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy will! what have we here? [Taking up the child.] Mercy on's, a bearne! a very pretty bearne! a boy, or a child, I wonder! a pretty one, a very pretty one; fure, fome 'scape: tho' I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting gentlewoman in the 'fcape. This has been some stair-work, fome trunk-work, fome behinddoor-work: they were warmer that got this, than the poor thing is here. I'll take it up for pity, yet I'll tarry 'till my fon come he hollow'd but even now;

Whoa, ho-hoa !

Clo. Hilloa, loa!

Enter Clown.

Shep. What, art so near? if thou'lt fee a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail'ft thou, man?

Clo. I have feen two fuch fights, by fea and by land; but I am not to fay, it is a fea; for it is now the sky; betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.

Shep. Why, boy, how is it?

Clo. I would, you did but fee how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the fhore; but that's not to the point; oh, the moft piteous cry of the poor fouls, fometimes to fee 'em, and not to fee 'em: now the ship boring the moon with her main-maft, and anon fwallow'd with yeft and froth, as you'd thruft a cork into a hogfhead. And then for the land fervice,-to fee how the Bear tore out his fhoulder-bone, how he cry'd to me for help, and faid his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the fhip, to fe how the fea flap-dragon'd it. But first, how the poor fouls

roar'd,

roar'd, and the fea mock'd them.

And how the poor

gentleman roar'd, and the bear mock'd him; both roaring louder than the fea, or weather.

Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

Clo. Now, now, I have not wink'd fince I faw these fights; the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half din'd on the gentleman; he's at it now.

Shep. 'Would, I had been by to have help'd the old man.

Clo. I would, you had been by the ship-fide, to have help'd her; there your charity would have lack'd footing. [Afide. Shep. Heavy matters, heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now blefs thyfelf; thou meet'ft with things dying, I with things new-born. Here's a fight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a fquire's child! look thee here; take up, take up, boy; open't; fo, let's fee; it was told me, I should be rich by the fairies. This is fome changeling: open't; what's within, boy?

7 Clo. You're a mad old man; if the fins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!

Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and will prove fo. Up with it, keep it clofe: home, home, the next way.

6

Shep. Would, I had been by to bave help'd the old Man.] Tho' all the printed Copies concur in this reading, I am perfuaded, we ought to restore, Nobleman. The Shepherd knew nothing of Antigonus's Age; befides, the Clown had just told his Father, that he faid his Name was Antigonus, a Nobleman; and no lefs than three times in this fhort Scene, the Clown, fpeaking of him, calls him the Gentleman. THEOB.

7 In former copies, You're a mad old Man; if the

Sins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all Gold!-] This the Clown fays upon his opening his Fardel, and difcovering the Wealth in it. But this is no Reafon why he should call his father a mad old Man. I have ventur'd to correct in the Text-ou're a made old Man: i. e. your Fortune's inade by this adventitious Treasure. So our Poet, in a Number of other Paffages.

THEOBALD.

We

We are lucky, boy; and to be so ftill, requires nothing but fecrecy. Let my fheep go: come, good boy, the next way home.

Clo. Go you the next way with your findings, I'll go fee if the Bear be gone from the gentleman; and how much he hath eaten: they are never curft but when they are hungry if there be any of him left, I'll bury it.

Shep. That's a good deed. If thou may'ft difcern by that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to th' fight of him.

Clo. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i'th' ground.

Shep. 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds on't.

[Exeunt.

Enter Time, as Chorus.

Time. I, that please fome, try all, both joy and

terror

8

Of good and bad, that make and unfold error ';
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me, or my fwift paffage, that I flide

O'er fixteen years, and leave the growth untry'd