Abbildungen der Seite
[ocr errors]


Should I in these my borrow'd flaunts behold
The fternnefs of his presence!

Flo. Apprehend

Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The fhapes of beafts upon them. Jupiter,
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd God,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble fwain,

As I feem now.

Their transformations

Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way fo chafte: fince my defires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts
Burn hotter than my faith.

Per. O, but, dear Sir,

Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis
"Oppos'd, as it must be, by th' power o' th' King.
One of these two must be neceffities,

Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose,

Or I my life.

Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,

With thefe forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not The mirth o'th' feaft; 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,
Tho' deftiny fay no. Be merry, (Gentle,)
Strangle fuch thoughts as thefe, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which

We two have fworn fhall come.

Per. O lady fortune,

Stand you aufpicious!



Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants; with Polixenes and Camillo disguis'd.

EE, your guests approach?

Flo. SE

Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fie, daughter; when my old wife liv'd, upon This day fhe was both pantler, butler, cook,

Both dame and fervant; welcom'd all, ferv'd all;
Would fing her fong, and dance her turn; now here
At upper end o'th'table, now i'th’middle:

On his fhoulder, and his; her face o'fire
With labour; and the thing she took to quench it
She would to each one fip. You are retired,
As if you were a feasted one, and not


The hoftefs of the meeting: pray you, bid
Thefe unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blufhes, and present yourself
That which you are, miftrefs o'th' feaft. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your fheep-fhearing,

As your good flock fhall profper.

Per. Sirs, welcome.

To Pol. and Cam.

It is my father's will, I should take on me

The hoftefsfhip o'th day; you're welcome, Sirs.

Give me thofe flowers there, Dorcas-Reverend Sirs,
For you there's rofemary and rue, thefe keep
Seeming and favour all the winter long:
Grace and remembrance be unto you both,
And welcome to our fhearing!

Pol. Shepherdefs,

(A fair one are you,) well

With flowers of winter.

[blocks in formation]

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,

Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth


Of trembling winter, the faireft flowers o'th' feafon
Are our carnations, and ftreak'd gilly-flowers,
Which fome call nature's baftards: of that kind
Our ruftic garden's barren, and I care not
To get flips of them.

Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it said,

There is an art, which in their piedness shares
With great creating nature.

Pol. Say, there be;

Yet nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean; fo over that art,
Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes; you fee, fweet maid, we marry ¿A gentle fcyon to the wildest stock


And make conceive a bark of bafer kind
By bud of nobler race. This is an art,

[ocr errors]

Which does mend nature, change it rather; but
The art itself is nature.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers, And do not call them baftards.iur

Per. I'll not put

The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them:

No more than, were I painted, I would wish

This youth fhould fay, 'twere well; and only there


Defire to breed by me. -Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender,, mints, favoury, marjoram,
The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun,
And with him rifes, weeping: these are flowers
Of middle fummer, and I think, they are given
To men of middle age. Y'are very welcome.

Can. I fhould leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing..onal bailter c

Per. Out, alas!

You'd be fo lean, that blafts of January


Would blow you through and through. Now, my fairest friend,

I would, I had fome flowers o'th' fpring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin-branches yet
Your maiden-heads growing: O Proferpina,
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'ft fall
From Dis's waggon! daffadils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But fweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phœbus in his ftrength; (a malady
Most incident to maids;) gold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lillies of all kinds,
The flower-de-lis being one. O thefe, I lack
To make you garlands of, and, my fweet friend,
To ftrow him o'er and o'er.

Flo. What? like a coarse?

Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; Not like a coarfe; or if,-not to be buried

But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your


Methinks, I play as I have feen them do

In whitfon paftorals: fure, this robe of mine
Does change my difpofition.

Flo. What you do,

Still betters what is done. When you speak, (sweet)
I'd have you do it ever; when you fing,

I'd have you buy and fell fo; fo, give alms;

Pray, fo; and for the ord'ring your affairs,

To fing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o'th'fea, that you might ever do

Nothing but that; move ftill, ftill fo,

And own no other function. Each your doing,
So fingular in each particular,

Crowns what you're doing in the prefent deeds,uok

That all your acts are Queens.




Per. O Doricles,

Your praises are too large; but that your youth. And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through it, Do plainly give you out an unftain'd fhepherd; With wifdom I might fear, my Doricles,

You woo'd me the falfe way.

Flo. I think, you have

As little fkill to fear, as I have purpose

To put you
Your hand, my Perdita; fo turtles pair,

to't. But, come; our dance, I pray;

That never mean to part.

Per. I'll fwear for 'em.

Pol. This is the prettieft low-born lafs, that ever Ran on the green-ford; nothing fhe does, or feems, But fmacks of something greater than herself, Too noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her fomething,

That makes her blood look out: good footh, fhe is The Queen of curds and cream.

Clo. Come on, ftrike up.

Dor. Mopfa muft be your miftrefs; marry, garlic to mend her kiffing with

Mop. Now, in good time!

Clo. Not a word, a word; we ftand upon our manners; come, ftrike up.

Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdeffes.

Pol. Pray, good fhepherd, what fair fwain is this Who dances with your daughter?

Shep. They call him Doricles, and he boafts himself To have a worthy breeding; but I have it

Upon his own report, and I believe it:

He looks like footh; he fays, he loves my daughter, I think fo too; for never gaz'd the moon

Upon the water, as he'll ftand and read

As 'twere my daughter's eyes; and, to be plain,
I think, there is not half a kiss to chufe

Who loves another beft.



« ZurückWeiter »