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More homely than thy ftate. For thee, fond boy,
If I may ever know thou doft but figh

That thou no more fhalt fee this knack, (as never
I mean thou shalt,) we'll bar thee from fucceffion,
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Lefs than Deucalion off: mark thou my words;
Follow us to the Court. Thou churl, for this time,
Tho' full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it: 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 hoope his body more with thy embraces,
I will devife a death as cruel for thee,
As thou art tender to it.

SCENE VIII.

Per. Even here undone :

I was not much afraid, for once or twice
I was about to speak, and tell him plainly,
The felf-fame fun that fhines upon his Court,
Hides not his vifage from our cottage, but

[Exit.

Looks on alike. Will't pleafe you, Sir, be gone? [To FIO,
I told you what would come of this. 'Befeech you,
Of your own ftate take care: from this my dream

Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,

But milk my ewes, and weep.

Cam. Why, how now, father?

Speak ere thou dieft.

Shep. I cannot fpeak, nor think,

Nor dare to know that which I know. O Sir, [To Flo.

You have undone a man of fourfcore three,

That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,

To die upon the bed my father dy'd,

To lye close by his honeft bones; but now

Some hangman muft put on my throud, and lay me
Where no priest shovels in duft. Oh curfed wretch!

[To Perdita. That knew'ft this was the Prince, and would't adventure To mingle faith with him. Undone, undone!

If

[Exit.

If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd

To die when I defire.

SCENE IX.

Flo. Why look you fo upon me?
I am but forry, not afraid; delay'd,
But nothing alter'd: what I was I am;

More ftraining on for plucking back; not following
My leafh unwillingly.

Cam, Gracious my Lord,

You know your father's temper: at this time
He will allow no fpeech, which I do guess
You do not purpose to him; and as hardly
Will he endure your fight as yet, I fear;
Then, 'till the fury of his Highness settle,
Come not before him.

Flo. I not purpose it.

I think, Camillo..

Cam. Even he, my Lord.

Per. How often have I told you 'twould be thus ?
How often faid, my dignity would laft
But 'till 'twere known?

Flo. It cannot fail but by

The violation of my faith, and then

Let nature crufh the fides o'th' earth together,
And mar the feeds within!-Lift up thy looks.
From my fucceffion wipe me, father, I

Am heir to my affection.

Cam. Be advis'd.

Flo. I am? and by my fancy: if my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
If not, my fenfes better pleas'd with madness
Do bid it welcome.

Cam. This is defperate, Sir.

Flo. So call it; but it does fulfil my vow ;
I needs must think it honefty. Camillo,
Not for Bithynia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereout glean'd; for all the fun fees, or
The clofe earth wombs, or the profound feas hide
In unknown fadoms will I break my oath
To this my fair belov'd: therefore, I pray you,

As

As you have ever been my father's friend,
When he fhall mifs me, (as in faith I mean not
To fee him any more) caft your good counfels
Upon his paffion; let my felf and fortune

Tug for the time to come. This you may know
And fo deliver, I am put to fea

With her, whom here I cannot hold on shore ;
And moft opportune to our need, I have
A veffel rides faft by, but not prepar'd
For this defign. What courfe I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.

Cam. O my Lord,

I would your fpirit were easier for advice,

Or ftronger for your need.

Flo. Hark, Perdita.

I'll hear you by and by.

Cam. He's irremoveable,

Refolv'd for flight: now were I happy, if
His going I could frame to ferve my turn;
Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
Purchase the fight again of dear Sicilia,

And that unhappy King, my mafter, whom
I fo much thirft to fee.

Flo. Now, good Camillo

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I am fo fraught with curious bufiness, that

I leave out ceremony.

Cam. Sir, I think

You have heard of my poor fervices, i'th' love

That I have born your father.

Flo. Very nobly

Have you deferv'd: it is my father's mufick

To fpeak your deeds, not little of his care
To have them recompenc'd, as thought on.
Cam. Well, my Lord,

[To Cam.

If you may pleafe to think I love the King,
And through him what is nearest to him, which is
Your gracious felf, embrace but my direction,

If your more ponderous and fettled project
May fuffer alteration; on mine honour,

VOL. IV.

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I'll point you where you fhall have fuch receiving
As fhall become your Highnefs, where you may
Enjoy your mistress; from the whom, I fee,
There's no disjunction to be made, but by
(As heav'ns forfend) your ruin. Marry her,
And with my beft endeavours, in your abfence,
Your difcontented father I will strive

To qualifie and brink him up to liking.
Flo. How, Camillo,

May this, almost a miracle, be done?

That I may call thee fomething more than man,
And after that truft to thee.

Cam. Have you thought on
A place whereto you'll go?
Flo. Not any yet:

But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty
Towards what we wildly do, fo we profess
Our felves to be the flaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.

Cam. Then lift to me:

This follows, if you will not change your purpose,
But undergo this flight; make for Sicilia,

And there prefent your felf, and your fair Princess
(For fo I fee fhe must be) 'fore Leontes ;
She fhall be habited as it becomes

The partner of your bed. Methinks I fee
Leontes opening his free arms, and weeping

His welcomes forth; afks thee, the fon, forgiveness,
As 'twere i'th' father's perfon; kiffes the hands
Of your fresh Princefs; o'er and o'er divides him
'Twixt his unkindness, and his kindness: the one
He chides to hell, and bids the other grow
Fafter than thought or time.

Flo. Worthy Camillo,

What colour for my vifitation fhall I

Hold up before him.

Cam. Sent by the King your father

Sir,

To greet him, and to give him comforts.
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
What you, as from your father, fhall deliver,

Things

Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down;
The which fhall point you forth at every fitting
What you muft fay, that he fhall not perceive,
But that you have your father's bofom there,
And speak his very heart.

Fle. I am bound to you:
There is fome fap in this.

Cam. A courfe more promifing
Than a wild dedication of your felves

To unpath'd waters, undream'd fhores; moft certain,
To miferies enough: no hope to help you,
But as you shake off one, to take another
Nothing so certain as your anchors, which
Do their beft office, if they can but stay you
Where you'll be loth to be: befides, you know,
Profperity's the very bond of love,

Whofe fresh complexion and whose heart together
Affliction alters.

Per. One of these is true:

I think affliction may subdue the cheek;

But not take in the mind.

Cam. Yea, fay you fo?

There fhall not at your father's house, these seven years,

Be born another fuch.

Flo. My good Camillo,

She is as forward of her breeding, as

I'th' rear of birth.

Cam. I cannot fay, 'tis pity

She lacks inftructions, for the feems a miftrefs

To moft that teach.

Per. Your pardon, Sir; for this

I'll blush you thanks.

Flo. My prettiest Perdita

But oh, the thorns we stand upon ! Camillo,

Preferver of my father, now of me;

The medicine of our houfe; how fhall we do?

We are not furnish'd like Bithynia's fon,

Nor fhall appear in Sicily

Cam. My Lord,

Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes

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