William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (520 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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CLOWN We’ll have this song out anon by ourselves. My father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we’ll not trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after me. Wenches, I’ll buy for you both. Pedlar, let’s have the first choice. Follow me, girls.
Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa
AUTOLYCUS And you shall pay well for ’em.
 
Enter Servant
 
SERVANT Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neatherds, three swineherds that have made themselves all men of hair. They call themselves saultiers, and they have a dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not in’t. But they themselves are o’th’ mind, if it be not too rough for some that know little but bowling, it will please plentifully.
OLD SHEPHERD Away. We’ll none on’t. Here has been too much homely foolery already. (
To Polixenes)
I know, sir, we weary you.
POLIXENES You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let’s see these four threes of herdsmen.
SERVANT One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath danced before the King, and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and a half by th’ square.
OLD SHEPHERD Leave your prating. Since these good men are pleased, let them come in—but quickly, now.
SERVANT Why, they stay at door, sir.
Here a dance of twelve satyrs
 
POLIXENES (
to the Old Shepherd
)
O, father, you’ll know more of that hereafter.
(
To Camillo
) Is it not too far gone? ’Tis time to part
them.
He’s simple, and tells much.
(
To Florizel)
How now, fair shepherd,
Your heart is full of something that does take
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young
And handed love as you do, I was wont
To load my she with knacks. I would have ransacked
The pedlar’s silken treasury, and have poured it
To her acceptance. You have let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your lass
Interpretation should abuse, and call this
Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
For a reply, at least if you make a care
Of happy holding her.
FLORIZEL
Old sir, I know
She prizes not such trifles as these are.
The gifts she looks from me are packed and locked
Up in my heart, which I have given already,
But not delivered.
(
To Perdita
) O, hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
Hath sometime loved. I take thy hand, this hand
As soft as dove’s down, and as white as it,
Or Ethiopian’s tooth, or the fanned snow that’s bolted
By th’ northern blasts twice o’er.
POLIXENES
What follows this?
How prettily the young swain seems to wash
The hand was fair before! I have put you out.
But to your protestation. Let me hear
What you profess.
FLORIZEL
Do, and be witness to’t.
POLIXENES
And this my neighbour too?
FLORIZEL
And he, and more
Than he; and men, the earth, the heavens, and all,
That were I crowned the most imperial monarch,
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge
More than was ever man’s, I would not prize them
Without her love; for her employ them all,
Commend them and condemn them to her service
Or to their own perdition.
POLIXENES
Fairly offered.
CAMILLO
This shows a sound affection.
OLD SHEPHERD
But, my daughter,
Say you the like to him?
PERDITA
I cannot speak
So well, nothing so well, no, nor mean better.
By th’ pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his.
OLD SHEPHERD
Take hands, a bargain;
And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to’t.
I give my daughter to him, and will make
Her portion equal his.
FLORIZEL
O, that must be
I’th’ virtue of your daughter. One being dead,
I shall have more than you can dream of yet,
Enough then for your wonder. But come on,
Contract us fore these witnesses.
OLD SHEPHERD
Come, your hand;
And, daughter, yours.
POLIXENES
Soft, swain, a while, beseech you.
Have you a father?
FLORIZEL I have. But what of him?
POLIXENES Knows he of this?
FLORIZEL He neither does nor shall.
POLIXENES Methinks a father
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,
Is not your father grown incapable
Of reasonable affairs? Is he not stupid
With age and alt’ring rheums? Can he speak, hear,
Know man from man? Dispute his own estate?
Lies he not bed-rid, and again does nothing
But what he did being childish?
FLORIZEL
No, good sir.
He has his health, and ampler strength indeed
Than most have of his age.
POLIXENES
By my white beard,
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
Something unfilial. Reason my son
Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason
The father, all whose joy is nothing else
But fair posterity, should hold some counsel
In such a business.
FLORIZEL
I yield all this;
But for some other reasons, my grave sir,
Which ’tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this business.
POLIXENES
Let him know’t.
FLORIZEL
He shall not.
POLIXENES
Prithee let him.
FLORIZEL
No, he must not.
OLD SHEPHERD
Let him, my son. He shall not need to grieve
At knowing of thy choice.
FLORIZEL
Come, come, he must not.
Mark our contract.
POLIXENES (
removing his disguise
)
Mark your divorce, young sir,
Whom son I dare not call. Thou art too base
To be acknowledged. Thou a sceptre’s heir,
That thus affects a sheep-hook?
(
To the Old Shepherd
) Thou, old traitor,
I am sorry that by hanging thee I can but
Shorten thy life one week.
(
To Perdita
) And thou, fresh piece
Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know
The royal fool thou cop’st with—
OLD SHEPHERD O, my heart!
POLIXENES
I’ll have thy beauty scratched with briers and made
More homely than thy state.
(
To Florizel
) For thee, fond boy,
If I may ever know thou dost but sigh
That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never
I mean thou shalt, we’ll bar thee from succession,
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Farre than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words.
Follow us to the court.
(
To the Old Shepherd
) Thou churl, for this time,
Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it.
(
To Perdita
)
And you, enchantment,
Worthy enough a herdsman—yea, him too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee—if ever henceforth thou
These rural latches to his entrance open,
Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
I will devise a death as cruel for thee
As thou art tender to’t.
Exit
PERDITA
Even here undone.
I was not much afeard, for once or twice
I was about to speak, and tell him plainly
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike. Will’t please you, sir, be gone?
I told you what would come of this. Beseech you,
Of your own state take care. This dream of mine
Being now awake, I’ll queen it no inch farther,
But milk my ewes and weep.
CAMILLO
(
to the Old Shepherd
) Why, how now, father?
Speak ere thou diest.
OLD SHEPHERD
I cannot speak, nor think,
Nor dare to know that which I know.
(
To Florizel)
O sir, You have undone a man of fourscore-three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,
To die upon the bed my father died,
To lie close by his honest bones. But now
Some hangman must put on my shroud, and lay me
Where no priest shovels in dust.
(
To Perdita
)
O cursed wretch, That knew’st this was the Prince, and wouldst
adventure
To mingle faith with him. Undone, undone!
If I might die within this hour, I have lived
To die when I desire. Exit
FLORIZEL (
to Perdita
) Why look you so upon me?
I am but sorry, not afeard; delayed,
But nothing altered. What I was, I am,
More straining on for plucking back, not following
My leash unwillingly.
CAMILLO
Gracious my lord,
You know your father’s temper. At this time
He will allow no speech—which I do guess
You do not purpose to him; and as hardly
Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear.
Then till the fury of his highness settle,
Come not before him.
FLORIZEL
I not purpose it.
I think, Camillo?
CAMILLO
Even he, my lord.
PERDITA
(to Florizel)
How often have I told you ‘twould be thus?
How often said my dignity would last
But till ’twere known?
FLORIZEL
It cannot fail but by
The violation of my faith, and then
Let nature crush the sides o’th’ earth together
And mar the seeds within. Lift up thy looks.
From my succession wipe me, father! I
Am heir to my affection.
CAMILLO
Be advised.
FLORIZEL
I am, and by my fancy. If my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason.
If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,
Do bid it welcome.
CAMILLO
This is desperate, sir.
FLORIZEL
So call it. But it does fulfil my vow.
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereat gleaned; for all the sun sees, or
The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hides
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
To this my fair beloved. Therefore, I pray you,
As you have ever been my father’s honoured friend,
When he shall miss me—as, in faith, I mean not
To see him any more—cast your good counsels
Upon his passion. Let myself and fortune
Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
And so deliver: I am put to sea
With her who here I cannot hold on shore;
And most opportune to her need, I have
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared
For this design. What course I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.
CAMILLO
O my lord,
I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for your need.
FLORIZEL
Hark, Perdita—
(
To Camillo
) I’ll hear you by and by.
CAMILLO
(aside)
He’s irremovable,
Resolved for flight. Now were I happy if
His going I could frame to serve my turn,
Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia
And that unhappy king, my master, whom
I so much thirst to see.

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