The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter, Of the young Prince; whose honourable thoughts for 't Not dropp'd 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 Tincture, or lustre, in her lip, her eye, 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 Leon. 1 Lord. Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault I' th' 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 shew'd too much To th' 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, The love I bore your Queen, lo, fool again! Who is lost too: take your patience to you, Leon. Thou didst speak but well, When most the truth; which I receive much better Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, bring me To the dead bodies of my Queen, and son: 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 I daily vow to use it. exercise, so long [Exeunt. SCENE III. Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea. Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Babe; and a Mariner. Ant. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia? Mariner. 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 's. 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' th' land: 'tis like to be loud weather; Besides, this place is famous for the creatures Of prey that keep upon 't. I have heard (but not believ'd) the spirits o' th' dead So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes, My cabin where I lay thrice bow'd before me; There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe I pr'ythee call 't. For this ungentle business, I did in time collect myself; and thought I will be squar'd by this. I do believe Of it's right father. Blossom, speed thee well. [Laying down the babe. 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 The day frowns more and more; thou 'rt like to have The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour! This is the chase; [Exit, pursued by a bear. Enter an old Shepherd. Shepherd. 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 boil'd brains of nineteen and two-andtwenty hunt this weather? They have scar'd 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, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy will! what have we here? Mercy on's, a barne; a very pretty barne! A god, 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 holla'd but even now. Whoa, họ hoa 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 ship boring the moon with her main-mast, and anon swallowed with yest and froth, as you'd thrust 2 cork into a hogshead. And then for the land-service : to see how the bear tore out his shoulderbone; how he cri'd to me for help, and said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman: - but to make an end |