Aut. Very wisely; puppies! [Aside. Shep. Well; let us to the king; there is that in this fardel will make him scratch his beard.

Aut. I know not what impediment this complaint may be to the flight of my master.

Clo. Pray heartily he be at palace.

Aut. Though I am not naturally nonest, I am so sometimes by chance:-Let me pocket up my pedlar's excrement.-[Takes off his false beard.] How now, rustics? whither are you bound?

Shep. To the palace, an it like your worship. Aut. 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 anything that is fitting to be known, discover. Clo. We are but plain fellows, sir.

Aut. A lie; you are rough and hairy: Let me nave 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 they do not give us the lie b

Clo. Your worsnip had like to have given us one, if yon had not taken yourself with the manner.

Shep. Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir? Aut. Whether it like me, or no, I am a courtier. See'st 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-odour from me? reflect I not on thy baseness, court-contempt? Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, or toze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I am courtier cap-a-pè; and one that will either push on or pluck back thy business there: whereupon I command thee to open thy aflair. Shep. My business, sir, is to the king. Aut. What advocate hast thou to him? Shep. I know not, an 't like you.

Clo. Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant; say, you have none.

Shep. None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. Aut. How bless'd are we that are not simple men! Yet nature might have made me as these are, Therefore I'll not disdain.

Co. This cannot be but a great courtier. Shep. His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomely.

Clo. He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical: a great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking on 's teeth.

Aut. The fardel there? what 's i' the fardel? Wherefore that box?

Shep. 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 speech of him.

Aut. Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
Shep. Why, sir?

Aut. The king is not at the palace: he is gone aboard a new ship to purge melancholy, and air himself: For if thou best capable of things serious, thou must know the king is full of grief.

Shep. So it is said, sir, about his son, that should bave married a shepherd's daughter.

Aut. 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. Clo. Think you so, sir?

Aut. 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 I: Draw our throne into a sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy. Clo. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an 't like you, sir?

Aut. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then, 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest; then stand, till he be three quarters and a dram dead; then recovered again with aqua-vitæ, or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall he 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, I'll 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 shall do it.

Clo. 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!

Shep. An't please you, sir, to undertake the business for us, here is that gold I have: I'll make it as much more; and leave this young man in pawn till I bring

it

you.

[Exit.

SCENE I.-Sicilia. A Room in the Palace of Leontes.

Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, and others.

Cleo. Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down More penitence than done trespass: At the last Do, as the Heavens have done; forget your evil; With them, forgive yourself.

Leon.

Whilst I remember Her, and her virtues, I cannot forget 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 Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man Bred his hopes out of. Paul.

True, too true, my lord: If, one by one, you wedded all the world, Or, from the all that are took something good, To make a perfect woman, she, you kill'd, Would be unparallel'd.

Kill'd!

Leon.
I think so.
She I kill'd! I did so: but thou strik'st me
Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter

Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now,
Say so but seldom.

Not at all, good lady;

Cleo. You might have spoken a thousand things that would Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd

Your kindness better.

Would have him wed again.

Dion. If you would not so, You pity not the state, nor the remembrance Of his most sovereign name; consider little, What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue, May drop upon his kingdom, and devour Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy Than to rejoice the former queen is well?a What holier than,-for royalty's repair, For present comfort and for future good,To bless the bed of majesty again With a sweet fellow to 't?

Paul.

There is none worthy,
Respecting her that 's gone. Besides, the gods
Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes:
For has not the divine Apollo said,

Is 't not the tenor of his oracle,
That king Leontes shall not have an heir

Till his lost child be found? which, that it shall,
Is all as monstrous to our human reason,

As my Antigonus to break his grave,
And come again to me; who, on my life,
Did perish with the infant. T is counsel
My lord should to the Heavens be contrary,

your

Oppose against their wills.-Care not for issue; [to LEON.
The crown will find an heir: Great Alexander
Left his to the worthiest; so his successor

Was like to be the best.

O Hermione,
As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better, gone, so must thy grave
Give way to what 's seen now. Sir, you yourself
Have said, and writ so, (but your writing now
Is colder than that theme,) "She had not been,

a The vehemence of Paulina overbears the interruption o Cleomenes, and he says, "I have done."

Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
Bring them to our embracement.-Still 't is strange,
[Exeunt CLEOMENES, Lords, and Gentleman.
He thus should steal upon us.

Paul.
Had our prince
(Jewel of children) seen this hour, he had pair'd
Well with this lord; there was not full a month
Between their births.

Leon.
Prithee, no more; cease; thou know'st,
He dies to me again, when talk'd of: sure,
When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
Will bring me to consider that which may
Unfurnish me of reason.-They are come.-
Re-enter CLEOMENES, with FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and
Attendants.

Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
For she did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you: Were I but twenty-one,
Your father's image is so hit in you,
His very air, that I should call you brother,
As I did him; and speak of something, wildly
By us perform'd 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
(All mine own folly) the society,
Amity too, of your brave father; whom,
Though bearing misery, I desire my life
Once more to look on him.

Lord. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now 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 With divers deaths in death.

Per. O, my poor father!-The Heaven sets spies upon us, will not have Our contract celebrated.

Leon.

You are married?

Flo. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first :The odds for high and low 's alike.

Leon.

Is this the daughter of a king?

Flo.

When once she is my wife.

My lord,

She is,

Leon. That once, I see, by your good father's speed,

Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
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,
That you might well enjoy her.
Flo.
Dear, look up:
Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
Should chase us, with my father, power no jot
Hath she to change our loves.-'Beseech you, sir,
Remember since you ow'd no more to time
Than I do now: with thought of such affections,
Step forth mine advocate; at your request,

Enter AUTOLYCUS and a Gentleman. Aut. 'Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?

1 Gent. 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.

Aut. I would most gladly know the issue of it.

1 Gent. 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 extremity of the one it must needs be.

Enter another Gentleman.

Here comes a gentleman, that, happily, knows more: The news, Rogero?

2 Gent. Nothing but bonfires: The oracle is fulfilled; the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that balladmakers cannot be able to express it.

Enter a third Gentleman.

Here comes the lady Paulina's 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 found his heir?

3 Gent. Most true; if ever truth were pregnant by circumstance; that which you hear you'll swear you see, there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of queen Hermione :-her je vel 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 king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the two kings?

2 Gent. No.

3 Gent. 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 countenance of such distraction, that they were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of hima Importance-import.

self for joy of his found daughter; as if that joy were now become a less, 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, and undoes description to do it.

2 Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried hence the child?

3 Gent. 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 shepherd's son; who has not only his innocence (which seems much) to justify him, but a handkerchief, and rings, of his, that Paulina knows.

1 Gent. What became of his bark, and his followers? 3 Gent. Wracked, the same instant of their master's 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 of losing.

1 Gent. The dignity of this act was worth the audience of kings and princes; for by such was it acted.

3 Gent. 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 queen's death, with the manner how she came to it, (bravely confessed, and lamented by the king,) how 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 it, the woe had been universal.

1 Gent. Are they returned to the court?

3 Gent. No: the princess hearing of her mother's 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 be guile nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that ther 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.

2 Gent. 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 the rejoicing?

1 Gent. 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. Let's along. [Exeunt Gentlemen.

Aut. 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 shepherd's 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 't is all one to me; for had I been the finder out of this secret, it would not have relished among my other discredits. Enter Shepherd and Clown.

Here come those I have done good to against my will,

and already appearing in the blossoms of their for

tune.

Shep. Come, boy; I am past more children, but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.

Clo. 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 bom: 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.

Aut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours. Shep. And so have I, boy.

Clo. So you have:-but I was a gentleman born before my father: for the king's 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 gentlemanlike

tears that ever we shed.

Shep. We may live, son, to shed many more. Clo. Ay; or else 't were hard luck; being in so preposterous estate as we are.

Aut. 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. Shep. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen.

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life?

Aut. Ay, an it like your good worship.

Clo. Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince, thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. Shep. You may say it, but not swear it. Clo. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? boors and franklins say it, I'll swear it. Shep. How if it be false, son?

Let

Clo. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it, in the behalf of his friend :-And I'll 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 all fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk; but I swear it: and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.

Aut. I will prove so, sir, to my power.

Clo. 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 queen's picture. Come, follow us: we ll be thy good [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same. A Room in Paulina's House.

masters.

Excels whatever yet, ou look'd upon,
Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart: But here it is: prepare
To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever
Still sleep mock'd death: behold; and say, 't is well.
[PAULINA undraws a curtain, and discovers a statue.
I like your silence, it the more shows off
Your wonder: But yet speak ;-first, you, my liege.
Comes it not something near?
Leon.
Her natural posture!—
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
As infancy, and grace.-But yet, Paulina,
Hermione was not so much wrinkled; nothing
So aged, as this seems.

O, not by much.

Pol. Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence; Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her As she liv'd now.

Leon. As now she might have done, So much to my good comfort, as it is 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 woo'd her! I am asham'd: Does not the stone rebuke me, For being more stone than it ?-O, royal piece, There's magic in thy majesty, which has My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, Standing like stone with thee!

Per. And give me leave; And do not say 't is superstition, that I kneel, and then implore her blessing.-Lady, Dear queen, that ended when I but began, Give me that hand of yours to kiss.

Paul.

O, patience:
The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour 's
Not dry.

Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on;
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,
So many summers dry: scarce any joy
Did ever so long live; no sorrow,
But kill'd itself much sooner.

Pol.

Dear my brother, Let him that was the cause of this have power To take off so much grief from you, as he Will piece up in himself.

Paul.

Indeed, my lord, If I had thought the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you (for the stone is mine),

I'd not have show'd it.

Leon. Do not draw the curtain. May think anon it moves. Paul. No longer shall you gaze on 't; lest your fancy

Leon.

Let be, let be.

Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already "—
What was he that did make it?-See, my lord,
Would you not deem it breath'd? and that those veins
Did verily bear blood?

Pol.

Masterly done:

The very life seems warm upon her lip.

Leon. The fixure of her eye has motion in 't,
As we are mock'd with art.

Paul.
I'll draw the curtain;
My lord 's almost so far transported that
He'll think anon it lives.

a Tieck understands this-" Would I were dead," if tha' could re-animate Hermione-" but that-methinks-already the sculptor has done it-made her breathe-given her motion -"what was he that did make it?" It is scarcely necessary to conjecture how Leontes would have closed the sentence; for the abrupt breaking off is one of those touches of nature with which Shakspere knew how to give passion an eloc uence beyond

words,