Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts Flor. I bless the time, When my good faulcon made her flight across Perd. Now Jove afford you cause! Flor. Apprehend, Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves, Perd Oh, but dear Sir, Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis Which then will speak, that thou must change this purpose: Flor. Thou dearest Perdita; With these forc'd thoughts, I prithee, darken not That That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: Of celebration of that nuptial, which We two have sworn shall come. Perd. O lady fortune, Stand thou auspicious! Enter OLD SHEPHERD, CLOWN, MOPSA, DORCAS; with POLIXENES, CAMILLO, and servants. CA MILLO, disguised. POLIXENES, and Flor. See your guests approach; Old Shep. Fie, daughter, when my old wife liv'd, upon Perd. Sir's welcome. It is my father's will, I'shou'd take on me The hostess-ship o' th' day; vou're welcome, sirs. Seeming and savour all the winter long: Grace and remembrance be unto you both, [To Polixenes and Camillo.. And welcome to our shearing. Polir. Shepherdess, With flowers of winter. A fair one are you; well you fit our ages Perd. Here are flowers for you; Hot lavendar, mint, savoury, marjoram, L6 [To others. Polix, 9 Vol. 1 The mary-gold, that goes to bed with the sun, Cam. I shou'd leave grazing were I of your flock, And only live by gazing. Perd. Out alas ! You'd be so clean, that blasts of January, Wou'd blow you thro' and thro' now my fairest friend, The flower-de-lis being one; o' these I lack To make your garland of, and my sweet friend, To Florizel. To strow him o'er and o'er. Flor. What? like a coarse ? Perd. [apart to Florizek.] No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on. Not like a coarse-come, come, take your flowers Methinks, I play, as I have seen them do In Whitsun pastorals: sure. this robe of mine Does change my disposition. Flor. What you do, Still betters what is done-when you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever; when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so; give alms; Pray, so; and for the ordering your affairs, To sing them to. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' th' sea, and you might ever do Nothing but that; niove still, still so, And own no other function. Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens, Perd Perd. O Doricles, Your praises are too large; but that your youth With wisdom, I might fear, my Doricles, You woo'd me the false way. Flor, I think, you have As little skill to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't. But come; our dance I pray; Your hand my Perdita; so turtles pair 'That never mean to part. Perd. I'll swear for 'em. Old Sbep. Come, come, daughter, leave for a while these private dalliances, and love-whisperings, clear up your pipes and call, as custom is; our neighbours to our shearing. Perd. I will obey you. SONG. I. Come, come, my good shepherds, our flocks we must sbear, In your boly-day suits, with your lasses appear; The bappiest of folk, are the giltless and free And who are so giltless so bappy as we? 11. We barbour no passions, by luxury taught, What we think in our bearts, you may readin our eyes ; For knowing no falsbood, we need no disguise, III. By mode and caprice are the city dames led, By ber band alone, we are painted and dress'd For the roses will bloom, when there's peace in the breast. IV. That giant, ambition we never can dread; Our roofs are too low, for so lofty a bead; Content and sweet-cbearfulness open our door, They smile with the simple, and feed with the poor. V. When love bas posses'd us, but love we reveal : Like the flocks that we feed, are the passions we feel; So So harmless and simple we sport, and we play, Polix. This is the prettiest low born lass that ever Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is Clown. Come on our dance-strike up. Dorc. Mopsa must be our mistress, marry, buy some garlick to mend her kissing with. Mops. Now, in good time, musk, will not mend thine. Dorc. Thou art a false man; did'st not thou swear, (it was but yesternight in the tallet, over the dove house) how that at your shearing, you wou'd this day shaane Mopsa, and not a word-we Clown. Hold ye, maidens, hold ye stand upon our manners here, come strike up. Mops. Here's to do; marry I'll swear he promis'd me long enough afore that in the hay-field-by the token, our curate, came by, and whereof all our folk were gone further a field; he advis'd us to get up, and go home quickly, for that the dew fell apace and the ground was dank, and unhealsome; more nor that, you promis'd me gloves, and ribbands, and knacks at the fair, and more nor that Clown. Not a word; not a word more, wenches. Dorc. Marry, come up! others have had promises, as well as some;-but I have heard old folks in the parish say, that some folks have been proud and courtly, and falshearted ever since some folks father found a pot of money by the sea-side here. But I say nothing. Clown. Come, come' strike up. A Dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Polix. I pray good shepherd, what fair swain is this, Old Shep. They call him Doricles; and he boasts himself Who dances with your daughter. To have a worthy breeding; but I have it. Upon his own report, and I believe it: He looks like sooth; he says, he loves my daughter; I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon Upon |