As he from heaven merits it, with you, Worthy his goodness. What might I have been, SCENE IV. Enter a Lord. LORD. Most noble fir, That, which I fhall report, will bear no credit, His dignity and duty both caft off, Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with LEO. Where's Bohemia ? fpeak. now came from him. I speak amazedly, and it becomes My marvel, and my meffage: to your court Her brother, having both their country quitted FLO. Camillo has betray'd me; Whofe honour, and whofe honesty, 'till now LORD. Lay't fo to his charge: He's with the king your father. LEO. Who? Camillo ? LORD. Camillo, fir, I fpake with him; who now Has these poor men in question. Never faw I Wretches fo quake; they kneel, they kifs the earth; VOL. II. Forfwear themselves, as often as they speak: PER. Oh, my poor father! The heaven fets fpies upon us, will not have LEO. You are marry'd? FLO. We are not, fir, nor are we like to be ; The stars, I fee, will kiss the valleys first; The odds for high and low's alike. LEO. My lord, is this the daughter of a king? When once she is my wife. LEO. That ONCE, I fee, by your good father's speed, Will come on very flowly. I am fure, (Most sorry) you have broken from his liking, Where you were ty'd in duty; and as forry, Your choice is not fo rich in worth as beauty, FLO. Dear, look up; Though fortune, visible an enemy, Should chafe us, with my father; power no jot LEO. Would he do fo, I'd beg your precious mistress, Which he counts but a trifle. PAUL. Sir, my liege, Your eye hath too much youth in't; not a month "Fore your queen dy'd, the was more worth fuch gazes Than what you look on now. LEO. I thought of her, Even in thefe looks I made-But your petition [To Florizel. Is yet unanfwer'd; I will to your father; Your honour not o'er thrown by your defires, I'm friend to them and you; upon which errand I now go toward him, therefore follow me, And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord. [Exeunt, SCENE V. Near the court in Sicilia Enter Autolycus, and a Gentleman. AUT. 'Beseech you fir were you prefent at this relation? I GENT. I was by at the opening of the farthel, heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it; whereupon, after a little amazednefs, we were all commanded out of the chamber. Only this, methought, I heard the fhepherd fay, he found the child. AUT. I would most gladly know the issue of it. I 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 seem'd almost, with staring on one another, to tear the cafes of their eyes. There was a speech in their dumbnefs, language in their very gefture; they look'd, as they had heard of a world ranfom'd, or one deftroyed; a notable paffion of wonder appear'd in them; but the wifeft beholder, that knew no more but feeing, could not fay if th' importance were joy or forrow; but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be. Enter another Gentleman. Here comes a gentleman, that, haply knows more: the news, Rogero. 2 GENT. Nothing but bonfires. The oracle is fulfilled; the king's daughter is found; fuch a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it. more. Enter another Gentleman. Here comes the lady Paulina's steward, he can deliver you How goes it now, fir? this news, which is call'd true, is fo like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong fufpicion; has the king found his heir? 3 GENT. Moft true, if ever truth were pregnant hy circumstance: That which you hear, you'll fwear you see, there is fuch unity in the proofs. The mantle of queen Hermione, her jewel about the neck of it,-the letters of Antigonus found with it, which they know to be his character, the majefty of the creature, in refemblance of the mother, the affection of noblenefs, which nature shews above her breeding, -and many other evidences proclaim her with all certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you fee the meeting of the two kings? 2 GENT. No. 3 GENT. Then have you loft a fight, which was to be feen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one joy to crown another, fo and in fuch a manner, that it feem'd, forrow wept to take leave of them, for their joy waded in tears. There was cafting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with countenance of such distraction, that they were to be known by the garment, not by favour. Our king being ready to leap out of himself, for joy of his found daughter; as if that joy were now become a lofs, cries, oh, thy mother, thy mother! then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his fon in law; then again worries he his daughter, with clipping her. Now he thanks the old shepherd, who ftands by like a weather-beaten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of fuch another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it. 2 GENT. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carry'd hence the child? 3 GENT. Like an old tale ftill, which will have mat. ters to rehearse, tho' credit be asleep, and not an ear open; he was torn to pieces with a bear; this avouches the shepherd's fon, who has not only his innocence, which feems much to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings of his, that Paulina knows. I GENT. What became of his bark and his followers? 3 GENT. Wreckt the fame instant of their master's death, and in the view of the shepherd; fo that all the instruments, which aided to expose the child, were even then loft, when it was found. But, oh, the noble combat, that 'twixt joy and forrow was fought in Paulina ! She had one eye declin'd for the lofs of her husband, another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled. She lifted the princess from the earth, and fo locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart, that the might no more be in danger of lofing. I GENT. The dignity of this act was worth the audience of kings and princes; for by fuch was it acted. 3 GENT. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that which angled for mine eyes, (caught the water, tho' not the fish) was, when at the relation of the queen's death, with the manner how fhe came to it, bravely confefs'd, and lamented by the king, how attentiveness wounded his daughter; 'till, from one fign of dolour to another, fhe 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; |