Together working with thy jealousies,— Of the young prince; whose honorable thoughts When I have said, cry, woe!—The queen, the queen, The sweetest, dearest creature's dead; and vengeance for't Not dropped down yet. 1 Lord. The higher powers forbid! Paul. I say, she's dead; I'll swear't. If word nor oath Prevail not, go and see; if you can bring 1 i. e. a devil would have shed tears of pity, ere he would have perpetrated such an action VOL. III. 7 Leon. Go on, go on. Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved 1 Lord. Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault Paul. I am sorry for't; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent. Alas, I have showed too much The rashness of a woman: he is touched 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 punished, 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 !— Who is lost too. Take your patience to you, And I'll say nothing. Leon. Thou didst speak but well, When most the truth; which I receive much better One grave shall be for both; upon them shall The chapel where they lie; and tears, shed there, [Exeunt. SCENE III. Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea. Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Child; and a Mariner. Ant. Thou art perfect,1 then, our ship hath touched 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 Ant. I'll follow instantly. Mar. To be so rid o'the business. Ant. Go thou away. I am glad at heart Come, poor babe. [Exit. I have heard (but not believed) the spirits of the dead So filled, and so becoming; in pure white robes, My cabin where I lay; thrice bowed before me; 1 i. e. well assured. Since fate, against thy better disposition, There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe I pr'ythee call't; for this ungentle business, There lie; and there thy character:1 there these [Laying down a bundle. Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty, And still rest thine.- The storm begins.-Poor wretch, That, for thy mother's fault, art thus exposed But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am I, To be by oath enjoined to this.-Farewell! The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have The heavens so dim by day. I am gone forever. A savage clamor! 2— This is the chase ; [Exit, pursued by a bear. 1 i. e. description. The writing afterward discovered with Perdita. 2 "A savage clamor." This clamor was the cry of the dogs and hunters; then seeing the bear, he cries, This is the chase, i. e. the animal pursued. 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-and-twenty, 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.1 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 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 stair-work, some trunk-work, some behinddoor 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 hollaed 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 ail'st 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 1 This is from the novel. It is there said to be "sea ivie, on which they do greatly feed.” |