0. Ger. Give me my jewels! my jewels, I fayr. Ger. The jewels, Sir, fo well become my wife, I think you cannot in confcience demand them back. 0. Ger. How! what!

Ang. They were his own free gift; he scorns to take what he has given me.

Doc. C'eft vrai-'tis very true.- -Aha! etez vous marrie donc ?-e bien! blefsa you bot togeder, you prit littel devil you!- -Monfieur Girarde, you musta forgive dem.-Ecoutes-ve vill ave a de bon fuppé, et be ver merry tous enfemble-alla togeder; et donc ve vill hear les avantures de doctor Crifpin.

Crif. Beatrice and I will tell you the whole ftory;

And as we fnack'd the fees, we'll share the glory.

FLO

TH

ACT I.

Enter the KING and CAMILLO.

KING.

HOU know'ft, my worthy, my endear'd Camilla,
How much prince Florizel, my fon, afflicts me
H 2

With

With the ftrange courfes he of late hath follow'd.
We oft have wonder'd whence arose the change
So vifible in thoughts, words, looks, and actions.
Cam. I oft have thought it strange.
King. My good Camillo,

I've had intelligence, the time he steals
From us, from ftudy, and from manly feats
And exercife of arms, is buried all

Beneath an aged fhepherd's fordid roof,

Whose bleating flocks fpread o'er that beauteous vale
That winds along the river's fide; a stranger,
Here fettled in Bithynia fome few years;
Who yet beyond th' imagination rofe

Of all his neighbours, yea, from very nothing,
To large poffeffions and unnumber'd flocks.

Cam. I've heard of fuch a man, who hath a daughter Of note most rare, beyond her low eftate.

King. Ay, that's the angle plucks him to his ruin. Fool! to be caught with fuch a paltry bait!

'A woman's bait!-'I cou'd have patience with him,
Meant he to fport it with the amorous wench;
But, O Camillo ! where fhall I find patience?
-Thou'lt not believe me, fhou'd I fwear it true,—
My fon, prince Florizel, Bithynia's hopes,
My kingdom's heir, this very day intends
To wed the daughter of that base-born clown!
Cam. A prince to wed a peafant !
King. 'Tis moft certain.

But to confound him past all contradiction,
We mean, at once, to prove and to prevent it.
To-day old Alcon (that's her father's name)
Holds an accuftom'd rite facred to Pan,
The god of flocks: it is their fhearers feast;
At which he means to folemnize the nuptials
With rural pomp and paftoral feftivity;
But I fhall difconcert 'em. I'll thither;
And thou, Camillo, fhall attend me too,
Difguis'd like ftrangers chance had fummon'd there.
Cam. You may difpofe me as your grace shall list:
Yet ftill I think the prince, in your report,

ls much abus’d. I fcarce can think it true.

King. I'll think as thou 'till I have prov'd the fact.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, A rural profpect near Alcon's houfe. Florizel. and Perdita difcover'd fitting.

Flo. Thefe your unufual weeds, to each Do give a life: No fhepherdefs; but Flora, Peering in April's front.

part

of

you

This your sheep-fhearing

ls as a meeting of the petty gods,

And you the queen of it!

Per. My gracious lord,

To chide at your extremes it not becomes me :
O pardon that I name them! Your high felf,
The gracious mark o' the land, you have obfcur'd
With a fwain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,,
Moft goddess-like prank'd up.

Flo. I blefs the time

When my good falcon made her flight across
Thy father's ground; celeftial guide to where
My treasure lay.

Per. Now Jove afford you caufe:

To me the diff'rence forges dread; your greatness
Hath not been us'd to fear: even now I tremble,
To think your father, by fome accident,

Shou'd pass this way as you did. O the fates!
How wou'd he look to fee his work, fo noble,
Vilely bound up! What wou'd he say? or how
Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold.
The fternnefs of his prefence?

Fl. Apprehend

Nothing but jollity: The gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The fhapes of beafts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble fwain,
As I feem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way so chaste,

Since my wifhes run not before my honour,.
Nor my defires burn hotter than my faith.
This day, my Perdita, fhall make thee mine!
H.3

Speak

Speak to me, love! and charm me with thy voice.
Per. No; let me only answer you with blushes.
If I fhou'd speak, you'd think I were too fond:
My tongue's afham'd t' interpret for my heart.
Flo. Hence with referve; it is a foe to love.
What you tell me is whisper'd to yourself.
Virtue and love may harmless sport together,
Like little lambs that wanton on the plain;
While, like a faithful paftor by their fide,
Honour keeps off each ravenous defire.

Per. I think you love me; and I think there is
Such virtue shines about you, that I dare
Intruft mine honour to your faithful love.
Oft, oft I wish thou wert fome peasant swain,
Born lowly as myself; then shou'd we live
Unknown, unenvy'd, in our humble state,
Content with love beneath the cottage ftraw.

Fl. By heav'n, there's fuch a charm in all thy words, I wish I were just what you'd have me be;

Diftinguifh'd only from the reft by love.

But, deareft Perdita, with thefe forc'd thoughts thee darken not this day of mirth;

I pray

For, truft me, love, I will be ever thine.

Be merry, gentle !

[Flourish.]

The guests are come; let's in and entertain 'em :--
Chearily, nor think of ought but jollity and love.

[Exeunt. SCENE, The Country. Enter King and Camillo Like old yeomen.

King. I am certain it cannot be far off, though we have loft our way

this merry fellow.

Who have we here? We'll ask

Enter Autolicus finging..

When daffodils begin to peere,

With hey the doxy over the dale,

Why then comes in the fweet o' the year;

For the red blood reigns o'er the winter's pale..

The lark that tirra lyra chants,

With hey, with hey the thrush and the jay,
Are fummer-fongs for me and my aunts,
As we lie tumbling in the hay..