Digest it with a custom, I should blush
To see you so attir'd; swoon, I think,
To shew myself a glass.11

Flo.

I bless the time,

When my good falcon made her flight across

Thy father's ground.

Per.
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 ?12 What would he say? Or how
Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
The sternness of his presence?

Apprehend

Flo.
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-rob'd god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
As I seem now: 13 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.

Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis

Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power o' the king;
One of these two must be necessities,

Which then will speak; that you must change this
Or I my life.

With these forc'd thoughts, I prithee, darken not
The mirth o' the feast: or I'll be thine, my fair,

purpose,

Or not my father's: for I cannot be
Mine own, nor anything 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 anything
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.

Per.

Stand you auspicious!

Flo.

.

O Lady Fortune,

See, your guests approach:

Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,

And let's be red with mirth.

Enter Shepherd, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO disguised; Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others.

Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife liv'd, upon

This day she was both pantler, butler, cook ;

Both dame and servant: welcom'd all; serv'd 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 retir'd

As if you were a feasted one,
The hostess of the meeting.

and not
Pray you, bid

These unknown friends to us 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.

Per.

Sir, welcome!

[TO POLIXENES.

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

The hostess-ship o' the day :-You're welcome, sir!

[TO CAMILLO. 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,14 And welcome to our shearing!

Pol.

Shepherdess

(A fair one are you), well you fit our ages With flowers of winter.

Per.

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 gillyflowers,

Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind

Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not

To get slips of them.

Pol.

Do you neglect them?

Per.

Wherefore, gentle maiden,

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: so, o'er 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.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gillyflowers, And do not call them bastards.

Per.

I'll not put

The dibble in earth to set 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, savory, marjoram ;
The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping; these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age. Ye're very welcome.

Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
And only live by gazing.

Per.

Out, alas!

You'd be so lean, that blasts of January

Would blow you through and through.-Now, my fairest 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 maiden 'honours' growing:-0 Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou lett'st fall
From Dis's wagon! daffodils,15

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
Bright Phoebus in his strength-a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
To make you garlands of; and my sweet friend,
'To strew him o'er and o'er !

Flo.

What, like a corse?

Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on;

Not like a corse; or if-not to be buried,

But quick, and in mine arms.-Come, take your flowers:
Methinks I play as I have seen them do

In Whitsun pastorals: sure, this robe of mine
Does change my disposition.

Flo.

What you do

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
I'd have you do it ever : when you sing,

I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms;
Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,

To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move still, still so,

And own no other function: each your doing,
So singular in each particular,

Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are queens.

Per.

O Doricles,

Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
And the true blood which peeps fairly through it,
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd,
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,

You woo'd me the false way.

Flo.

I think, you have

As little skill to fear, as I have purpose

To put you to 't.-But, come; our dance, I pray :

Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair,

That never mean to part.

Per.

I'll swear for 'em.

Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever

Ran on the green-sward : 16 nothing she does or seems,
But smacks of something greater than herself;
Too noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her something

That makes her blood look out: 17 good sooth, she is

The queen of curds and cream.

Clo.

Come on, strike up!

Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic, To mend her kissing with.