Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you
As I would do the gods.-But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.

Leon.
Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd
All tongues to talk their bitterest.

1 Lord.

Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault I'the boldness of your speech.

Paul. I am sorry for❜t; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent: Alas, I have show'd too much

The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd

To the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past help,

Should be past grief: Do not receive affliction
At my petition, I beseech you; rather

Let me be punish'd, that have minded you

Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:

The love I bore your queen,-lo, fool again!-
I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
I'll not remember you of my own lord,

Who is lost too: Take your patience to you,
And I'll say nothing.

Leon.

When most the truth;

Thou didst speak but well, which I receive much better Pr'ythee, bring me

Than to be pitied of thee.

To the dead bodies of my queen, and son:

One grave shall be for both; upon them shall

The causes of their death appear, unto

Our shame perpetual: Once a day I'll visit
The chapel where they lie: and tears, shed there,
Shall be my recreation: So long as

Nature will bear up with this exercise,

So long I daily vow to use it. Come,
And lead me to these sorrows.

SCENE III. Bohemia.

A desert Country near the Sea.

[Exeunt.

Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Child; and a

Mariner.

Ant. Thou art perfect1 then, our ship hath touch'd

upon

The deserts of Bohemia?

Mar. Ay, my lord; and fear We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly, And threaten present blusters. In my conscience, The heavens with that we have in hand are angry, And frown upon us.

Ant. Their sacred wills be done !-Go, get aboard; Look to thy bark; I'll not be long, before

I call upon thee.

Mar. Make your best haste; and go not
Too far i' the land: 'tis like to be loud weather;
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey, that keep upon't.

Ant.

I'll follow instantly.

Mar.

Go thou away:

I am glad at heart

[Exit.

Come, poor babe :

To be so rid o'the business.

Ant.

I have heard, (but not believ'd), the spirits of the dead

1i. e. well assured.

May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another;
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,

So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach

My cabin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me;
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her: Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,-
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,

There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,

I pr'ythee, call't; for this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
Thy wife Paulina more: and so, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,

I did in time collect myself; and thought
This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
Yet, for this once, yea, superstitiously,

I will be squar'd by this. I do believe
Hermione hath suffer'd death: and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
Of king Polixenes, it should here be laid,
Either for life, or death, upon the earth
Of its right father.-Blossom, speed thee well?

[Laying down the Child.

There lie; and there thy character: there these;

[Laying down a Bundle.

Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,

2 i. e. description. The writing afterward discovered with Perdita.

And still rest thine.

wretch,

-The storm begins :-Poor

That, for thy mother's fault, art thus expos'd
To loss, and what may follow!-Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds; and most accurs'd am I,
To be by oath enjoin'd to this.-Farewell!

The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never saw

The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour 3!Well may I get aboard!

I am gone for ever.

-This is the chase;

[Exit, pursued by a Bear.

Enter an old Shepherd.

Shep. I would, there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty; or that youth would sleep out the rest for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.-Hark you now!Would any but these boiled brains of nineteen, and two-andtwenty, hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my best sheep; which, I fear, the wolf will sooner find, than the master: if any where I have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browzing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy will! what have we here? [Taking up the Child.] Mercy on's, a barne; a very pretty barne! A boy, or a child, I wonder? A pretty

3A savage clamour.' This clamour was the cry of the dogs and hunters; then seeing the bear, he cries this is the chase, i. e. the animal pursued.

This is from the novel. It is there said to be sea ivie, on which they do greatly feed.'

5 A barne. This word is still in use in the northern dialects for a child. It is supposed to be derived from born, things born seeming to answer to the Latin nati. Steevens says that he had been told that in some of our inland counties a child signified a female infant in contradistinction to a male one;' but the assertion wants confirmation, and we may rather refer this use of it to the simplicity of the shepherd.

one; a very pretty one: Sure some scape: though I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This has been some stairwork, some trunk-work, some behind-door work: they were warmer that got this, than the poor thing is here. I'll take it up for pity: yet I'll tarry till my son come; he holla'd but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa!

Clo. Hilloa, loa!

Enter Clown.

Shep. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ailest thou, man?

Clo. I have seen two such sights, by sea, and by land;—but I am not to say, it is a sea, for it is now the sky; betwixt the firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.

Shep. Why, boy, how is it?

Clo. I would, you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! but that's not to the point: O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em: now the ship boring the moon with her main-mast; and anon swallowed with yest and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land service,-To see how the bear tore out his shoulderbone? how he cried to me for help, and said, his name was Antigonus, a nobleman:-But to make an end of the ship:-to see how the sea.flap-dragoned it:—but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them;—and how the poor gen

6 i. e. swallowed it, as our ancient topers swallowed flap-dragons. In Love's Labour's Lost we have, thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.' See vol. ii. page 374, note 9.