Obrázky stránek
PDF
ePub

Should I in these my borrow'd flaunts behold
The fternness of his prefence !
Flo. 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 chafte: fince my defires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts
Burn hotter than my faith.

Per. O, but, dear Sir,

Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd, as it must be, by th' power o'th' King.
One of these two muft be neceffities,

Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose,

Or I my life.

Flo. Thou deareft Perdita,

With thefe forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o'th' feaft; or I'll be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if

I be not thine. To this I am most conftant,
Tho' destiny say no. Be merry, Gentle,

Strangle fuch thoughts as thefe, with any thing

That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which

We two have fworn fhall come.

Per. O lady fortune,

Stand you aufpicious!

SCENE

SCENE V.

Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants ; with Polixenes and Camillo difguifed.

[ocr errors]

Flo. See, your guests approach;

Addrefs yourself to entertain them sprightly,
And let's be rid with mirth.

Shep. Fy, daughter; when my old wife liv'd, upon
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and fervant; welcom'd all, ferv'd all;
Would fing her fong, and dance her turn; now here
At upper end o'th' table, now i'th' middle :
On his fhoulder, and his; her face o'fire

With labour; and the thing fhe took to quench it
She would to each one fip.

As if you were a feafted one,
The hostess of the meeting:

You are retired,
and not
pray you, bid

These unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes, and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o'th' feaft. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your fheep-fhearing,

As your good flock fhall profper.

Per, Sirs, welcome.

[To Pol. and Cam.

It is my father's will, I fhould take on me

The hostessship o'th' day; you're welcome, Sirs. Give me thofe flowers there, Dorcas.-Reverend Sirs, For you there's rosemary and rue, these keep

Seeming and favour all the winter long :

*Grace and remembrance be unto you both, And welcome to our fhearing!

Pol. Shepherdefs,

(A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages With flowers of winter.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,

Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth

* Grace and remembrance-] old Gentlemen, be good, and may I fuppofe fhe means, May you, your memories be honoured.

Of

Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o'th' feafon
Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers,
Which fome call nature's baftards; of that kind
Our ruftick garden's barren, and I care not
To get flips of them.

Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it faid,

There is an art, which in their piedness shares
With great creating nature.

Pol. Say, there be;

Yet nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean; fo over that art
Which, you fay, adds to nature, is an art,

That nature makes; you fee, fweet maid, we marry
A gentler fcyon to the wildest stock;

And make conceive a bark of bafer kind
By bud of nobler race. This is an art,

Which does mend nature, change it rather; but
The art itself is nature.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers, And do not call them baftards.

Per. I'll not put

The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them:

No more than, were I painted, I would wish

This youth fhould fay, 'twere well; and only therefore

Defire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you:
Hot lavender, mints, favoury, marjoram,
The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun,
And with him rifes, weeping: these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age. Y'are
Y'are very welcome.

Cam. I fhould leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing.

Per. Out, alas !

You'd be fo lean, that blafts of January

Would

Would blow you through and through. Now, my fairest friend,

I would, I had fome flowers o'th' fpring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin-branches yet
Your maiden-heads growing: O Proferpina,
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'ft fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim9,
But fweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phebus in his ftrength; (a malady
Most incident to maids) * gold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lillies of all kinds,
The flower-de-lis being one. O, these I lack
To make you garlands of, and, my sweet friend,
To ftrow him o'er and oer.

Flo. What? like a coarfe?

Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; Not like a coarse; or if,-not to be buried

But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers,
Methinks, I play as I have feen them do

In whitfun pastorals: fure, this robe of mine
Does change my difpofition.

Flo. What you do,

Still betters what is done. When you fpeak, fweet,
I'd have you do it ever; when you fing,

I'd have you buy and fell fo; fo, give alms;
Pray, fo; and for the ord'ring your affairs,

To fing them too. When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o'th' fea, that you might ever do

9

violets dim,

But fweeter than the lids of Ju

no's eyes,] I fufpect that our author mistakes Juno for Pallas, who was the goddess of blue eyes. Sweeter than an eye

lid is an odd image: but perhaps he ufcs feet in the general fenfe, for delightful.

* Gold is the reading of Sir T. Hanmer; the former editions have told.

Nothing

Nothing but that; move ftill, ftill so,

And own no other function. * Each your doing,
So fingular in each particular,

Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are Queens.

Per. O Doricles,

Your praises are too large; but that your youth
And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through it,
Do plainly give you out an unftain'd shepherd;
With wifdom I might fear, my Dericles,

You woo'd me the falfe way.

Flo. I think, you have '

I

As little skill to fear, as I have purpose

To put you to't. But, come; our dance, I pray; Your hand, my Perdita; fo turtles pair,

That never mean to part.

Per. I'll fwear for 'em †.

Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Ran on the green-ford: nothing fhe does, or feems, But fmacks of fomething greater than herself, Too noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her fomething",

That makes her blood look out: good footh, the is The Queen of curds and cream.

Each your doing,] That is, your manner in each act crowns the act.

I I think, you have

As little skill to fear- ] To have skill to do a thing was a phrafe then in ufe equivalent to our to have reafon to do a thing. The Oxford Editor, ignorant of this, alters it to,

As little fkill in fear, which has no kind of fenfe in this place. WARBURTON.

+ Per. I'll wear for 'em.] I fancy this half line is placed to a wrong perfon, and that the king begins his fpeech afide.

[blocks in formation]
« PředchozíPokračovat »