So well, nothing so well: no, nor mean better: Shep. Take hands, a bargain; And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't: Flo. O, that must be I' th' virtue of your daughter: one being dead, Shep. Come, your And, daughter, yours. hand Pol. Soft, swain, a while, 'beseech you ; Have you a father? Flo. I have: But what of him? Pol. Knows he of this? Flo. He neither does, nor shall. Pol. Methinks, a father Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest That best becomes the table; Pray you, once more; Is not your father grown incapable Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid With age, and altering rheums? Can he speak ? hear? Know man from man? dispute his own estate? Lies he not bed-rid ? and again does nothing, But what he did being childish? Flo. No, good sir; He has his health, and ampler strength, indeed, Pol. By my white beard, You offer him, if this be so, a wrong Something unfilial: Reason, my son, Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason, The father, (all whose joy is nothing else But fair posterity,) should hold some counsel Flo. I yield all this; But, for some other reasons, my grave sir, Pol. Let him know't. Flo. He shall not. Pol. Pr'ythee, let him. Flo. No, he must not. Shep. Let him, my son; he shall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice. Flo. Come, come, he must not : Mark our contract. Pol. Mark your divorce, young sir, [Discovering himself. Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base Shorten thy life one week.-And thou, fresh piece Shep. O, my heart! Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made More homely than thy state.-For thee, fond boy,-- If I may ever know, thou dost but sigh That thou no more shalt see this knack (as never I mean thou shalt,) we'll bar thee from succession ; Per. Even here undone ! I was not much afeard; for once, or twice, [Exit. Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone? [To FLO. [1] I think for far than we should read far as. We will not hold thee of our kin even so far off as Deucalion, the common ancestor of all. JOHNSON. [2] The character is here finely sustained. To have made her quite astonished at the king's discovery of himself, had not become her birth; and to have given her presence of mind to have made this reply to the king, had not become her education. WARBURTON. 1 I told you, what would come of this. 'Beseech you, Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,- But milk my ewes, and weep: Cam. Why, how now, father? Speak, ere thou diest. Shep. I cannot speak, nor think, Nor dare to know that which I know.-O, sir, [TO FLO. That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea, To lie close by his honest bones: but now [TO PERDITA. That knew'st this was the prince, and would'st adventure To mingle faith with him.-Undone! undone ! If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd Flo. Why look you so upon me? I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd, But nothing alter'd: What I was, I am : More straining on, for plucking back; not following Cam. Gracious my lord, You know your father's temper: at this time Flo.. I not purpose it. I think, Camillo. Cam. Even he, my lord. [Exit. Per. How often have I told you, 'twould be thus? How often said, my dignity would last But till 'twere known? Flo. It cannot fail, but by The violation of my faith; And then Let nature crush the sides o' th' earth together, [3] These sentiments, which the poet has heightened by a strain of ridicule that runs through them, admirably characterize the speaker; whose selfishness is seen in concealing the adventure of Perdita; and here supported, by showing no regard for his son or her, but being taken up entirely with himself, though fourscore three, WARBURTON And mar the seeds within!-Lift up thy looks :- Am heir to my affection. Cam. Be advis'd. Flo. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason Cam. This is desperate, sir. Flo. So call it: but it does fulfil my vow; To this my fair belov'd: Therefore, I pray you, With her, whom here I cannot hold on shore ; Cam. O, my lord, I would your spirit were easier for advice, Or stronger for your need. Flo. Hark, Perdita. I'll hear you by and by. Cam. He's irremovable, [Takes her aside. [TO CAMILLO. Resolv'd for flight: Now were I happy, if Flo. Now, good Camillo, I am so fraught with curious business, that [4] It must be remembered that fancy in our author very often, as in this place, means love. JOHNSON. I leave out ceremony. Cam. Sir, I think, You have heard of my poor services, i' th' love Flo. Very nobly Have you deserv'd: it is my father's music If you may please to think I lov'd the king; I'll point you where you shall have such receiving Flo. How, Camillo, May this, almost a miracle, be done? That I may call thee something more than man, And, after that, trust to thee. Cam. Have you thought on A place where to you'll go? Flo. Not any yet: But as th' unthought-on accident is guilty To what we wildly do; so we profess Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies Of every wind that blows. Cam. Then list to me: [Going. This follows,-if you will not change your purpose, And there present yourself, and your fair princess, The partner of your bed. Methinks, I see |