Should I in these my borrow'd flaunts behold Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves, As I feem now. Their transformations Per. O, but, dear Sir, Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis 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 I be not thine. To this I am most conftant, Strangle fuch thoughts as thefe, with any thing That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: 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. Flo. See, your guests approach; Addrefs yourself to entertain them sprightly, Shep. Fy, daughter; when my old wife liv'd, upon With labour; and the thing fhe took to quench it As if you were a feafted one, You are retired, These unknown friends to's welcome, for it is 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 Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. For I have heard it faid, There is an art, which in their piedness shares Pol. Say, there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean; fo over that art That nature makes; you fee, fweet maid, we marry And make conceive a bark of bafer kind Which does mend nature, change it rather; but 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: 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 That come before the swallow dares, and take 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, In whitfun pastorals: fure, this robe of mine Flo. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you fpeak, fweet, I'd have you buy and fell fo; fo, give alms; To fing them too. When you do dance, I wish you 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, Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds, Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large; but that your youth 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. |