As my Antigonus to break his grave,
And come again to me; who, on my life,
Did perish with the infant. Tis your counsel,
My lord fhould to the heav'ns be contrary;
Oppofe against their wills.-Care not for iffue;
[To the King.
The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander
Left his to th' worthieft; fo his fucceffor
Was like to be the beft.

Leo. Good Paulina,

Who haft the memory of Hermione,

I know, in honour: O, that ever I

Had fquar'd me to thy counfel! then, even now
I might have look'd upon my Queen's full eyes,
Have taken treasure from her lips!

Pau. And left them

More rich, for what they yielded.

Leo. Thou speak'st truth:

No more fuch wives, therefore no wife; one worfe
And better us'd, would make her fainted fpirit
Again poffefs her corps; and on this stage,
(Where we (a) offend her now) appear soul-vext,
And begin, Why to me?

Pau. Had the fuch power,

She had juft caufe.

Leo. She had, and would incenfe me
To murder her I married.

Pau. I fhould fo:

Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'd bid you mark

Her eye, and tell me, for what dull part in't

You chofe her; then I'd fhriek, that even your ears
Shou'd rift to hear me, and the words that follow'd
Should be, Remember mine.

Leo. Stars, ftars,

And all eyes elfe, dead coals: fear thou no wife:
I'll have no wife, Paulina.

[(a) offend ber. Mr. Theobald-Vulg. offenders.

Pau.

Pau. Will you fwear

Never to marry, but by my free leave?

Leo. Never, Paulina; fo be blefs'd my spirit!
Pau. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.
Cleo. You tempt him over-much.

Pau. Unless another,

As like Hermione as is her picture,
Affront his eye.

Cleo. Good Madam, pray, have done.

Pau. Yet, if my lord will marry; if you will, Sir; No remedy, but you will; give me the office To chufe you a Queen; the fhall not be so young As was your former; but the fhall be fuch,

As, walk'd your firft Queen's ghost, it should take joy To fee her in your arms.

Leo. My true Paulina,

We shall not marry, 'till thou bid'ft us.

Pau. That

Shall be, when your firft Queen's again in breath:
Never till then.

Gent. One that gives out himself prince Florizel,
Son of Polixenes, with his princess (fhe,
The fairest I have yet beheld) defires access
To your high presence.

Leo. What with him? he comes not
Like to his father's greatnefs; his approach,
So out of circumftance and fudden, tells us,
'Tis not a vifitation fram'd, but forc'd
By need and accident. What train?
Gent. But few,

And those but mean.

Leo. His princefs, fay you, with him?

Gent.

Gent. Yes; the most peerless piece of earth, I think, That e'er the fun fhone bright on.

Pau. Oh Hermione,

As every present time doth boaft itself
Above a better, gone; fo must thy grave
Give way to what's feen now. Sir, you yourself
Have faid, and writ fo; but your writing now
Is colder than that theme; fhe bad not been,
Nor was he to be equall'd; thus your verse
Flow'd with her beauty once; 'tis fhrewdly ebb'd,
To fay, you've seen a better.

Gent. Pardon, Madam;

The one I have almoft forgot, (your pardon)
The other, when fhe has obtain'd your eye,
Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
Would the begin a fect, might quench the zeal
Of all profeffors elfe, make profelites

Of who fhe but bid follow.

Pau. How? not women?

Gent. Women will love her, that fhe is a woman More worth than any man: men, that the is The rareft of all women.

Leo. Go, Cleomines;

Yourself (affifted with your honour'd friends)

Bring them to our embracement. Still 'tis ftrange He thus fhould fteal upon us.

Pau. Had our prince

[Exit Cleo.

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

Leo. Pr'ythee, no more; ceafe; thou know'ft, He dies to me again, when talk'd of fure, When I fhall fee this gentleman, thy fpeeches Will bring me to confider that which may Unfurnish me of reafon. They are come.

2fo must thy grave] Grave for Epitaph.

VOL. III.

Bb

SCENE

SCENE III.

Enter Florizel, Perdita, Cleomines, and others.
Your mother was moft true to wedlock, prince,
For fhe did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you. Were I but twenty one,
Your father's image is fo hit in you,

His very air, that I fhould call you brother,
As I did him, and fpeak of fomething wildly
By us perform❜d before. Moft dearly welcome,
As your fair princefs, goddefs!-oh! alas!
I loft a couple, that 'twixt heav'n and earth
Might thus have ftood begetting wonder, as
You gracious couple do; and then I loft
(All mine own folly!) the fociety,
Amity too of your brave father, whom
(Tho' bearing mifery) I defire my life

Once more to look on.

Flo. Sir, by his command

Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
Give you all greetings, that a King, (at friend)
Can fend his brother; and but infirmity,

Which waits upon worn times, hath fomething feiz'd
His wifh'd ability, he had himself

The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
Meafur'd, to look upon you; whom he loves,
He bad me fay fo, more than all the scepters,
And thofe that bear them living.

Leo. Oh, my brother!

Good gentleman, the wrongs I have done thee stir
Afresh within me; and thefe thy offices,
So rarely kind, are as interpreters

Of my behind-hand flackness. Welcome hither,
As is the fpring to th' earth. And hath he too
Expos'd this paragon to th' fearful ufage

(At

(At least, ungentle) of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man, not worth her pains; much lefs,
Th' adventure of her perfon?

Flo. Good my lord,

She came from Libya.

Leo. Where the warlike Smalus,

That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd, and lov'd?
Flo. Moft royal Sir,

From thence; from him, whofe daughter

His tears proclaim'd his parting with her; thence
(A profperous fouth-wind friendly) we have crofs'd,
To execute the charge my father gave me,
For vifiting your highnefs; my best train
I have from your Sicilian fhores difmifs'd,
Who for Bohemia bend, to fignifie
Not only my fuccefs in Libya, Sir,
But my arrival, and my wife's, in fafety
Here, where we are.

Leo. The bleffed Gods

Purge all infection from our air, whilst you
Do climate here! You have a holy father,
A graceful gentleman, against whose person,
So facred as it is, I have done fin;

For which the heavens, taking angry note,
Have left me iffue-lefs; and your father's blefs'd,
As he from heaven merits it, with you,

Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
Might I a fon and daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you?

Lord. Moft noble Sir,

That, which I fhall report, will bear no credit, Were not the proof fo high. Please you, great Sir,

Bb 2

Bohemia