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 you Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, Who is lost too: Take your patience to you, Leon. When most the truth; Thou didst speak but well, Nature will bear up with this exercise, [Exeunt. 9 I am sorry for't;] This is another instance of the sudden changes incident to vehement and ungovernable minds. SCENE III. Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea. Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Child; and a Mariner. Ant. Thou art perfect 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: Come, poor babe: To be so rid o'the business. Ant. I have heard, (but not believ'd,) the spirits of the dead May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother 1 Thou art perfect then,] Perfect is often used for certain, well assured, or well informed, by almost all our ancient writers. So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes, 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: 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 expos'd 2thy character:] thy description; i. e. the writing afterwards discovered with Perdita. But my heart bleeds: and most accurs'd am I, The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour?— [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-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 on 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,3 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 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 hollaed but even now. Whoa, ho hoa! 3 Clo. Hilloa, loa! Enter Clown. Shep. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing A boy, or a child,] I am told, that in some of our inland counties, a female infant, in contradistinction to a male one, is still termed, among the peasantry,-a child. STEEVENS. 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 mainmast; 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 shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and said, his name was Antigonus, a nobleman:-Butto make an end of the ship:-to see how the sea flapdragoned it:*-but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them;-and how the poor gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea, or weather. Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy? . Clo. Now, now; I have not winked since I saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman; he's at it now. Shep. Would I had been by, to have helped the old man! Clo. I would you had been by the ship side, to have helped her; there your charity would have lacked footing. [Aside Shep. Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself; thou met'st flap-dragoned it:] i. e. swallowed it, as our ancient topers swallowed flap-dragons. |