ACT IV. · Enter Time, as Chorus. Time. I, that please some, try all; both joy, and terror, Of good and bad; that make, and unfold error,- The times that brought them in; so shall I do Be known, when 'tis brought forth:-a shepherd's daughter, And what to her adheres, which follows after, SCENE I. THE SAME. A ROOM IN THE PALACE OF POLIXENES. [Exit. Enter Polixenes and Camillo. Pol. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: 'tis a sickness, denying thee any thing; a death, to grant this. Cam. It is fifteen years, since I saw my country: though I have, for the most part, been aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent king, my master, hath sent for me: to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween to think so; which is another spur to my departure. Pol. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy services, by leaving me now: the need I have of thee, thine own goodness hath made; better not to have had thee, than thus to want thee: thou, having made me businesses, which none, without thee, can sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute them thyself, or take away with thee the very services thou hast done: which if I have not enough consider'd, (as too much I cannot,) to be more thankful to thee, shall be my study; and my profit therein, the heaping friendships. Of that fatal country Sicilia, pr'ythee speak no more: whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance of that penitent, as thou call'st him, and reconciled king, my brother; whose loss of his most precious queen, and children, are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw'st thou the prince Florizel my son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing them, when they have approved their virtues. Cam. Sir, it is three days, since I saw the prince: What his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have, missingly, noted, he is of late much retired from court; and is less frequent to his princely exercises, than formerly he hath appeared. Pol. I have consider'd so much, Camillo; and with some care; so far, that I have eyes under my service, which look upon his removedness: from whom I have this intelligence; That he is seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate. Cam. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note; the report of her is extended more, than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. Pol. That's likewise part of my intelligence. But, I fear the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place: where we will, not appearing what we are, have some question with the shepherd; from whose simplicity, I think it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Pr'ythee, be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. Cam. I willingly obey your command. Pol. My best Camillo !-We must disguise ourselves. [Exeunt. SCENE II. THE SAME. A ROAD NEAR THE SHEPHERD'S COTTAGE. Enter Autolycus, singing. When daffodils begin to peer, With, heigh! the doxy over the dale,— The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,— With, hey! the sweet birds, O, how they sing !Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. The lark, that tirra-lirra chants. ――― With, hey! with, hey! the thrush and the jay :- I have serv'd prince Florizel, and, in my time, wore three-pile; but now I am out of service: But shall I go mourn for that, my dear? And when I wander here and there, If tinkers may have leave to live, My traffick is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. My father named me, Autolycus; who, being, as I am, litter'd under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles: With die, and drab, I purchased this caparison; and my revenue is the silly cheat: Gallows, and knock, are too powerful on the highway: beating, and hanging, are terrors to me; for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it.-A prize! a prize! Enter Clown. Clown. Let me see:-Every 'leven wether tods; every tod yields-pound and odd shilling: fifteen hundred shorn,-What comes the wool to? Aut. If the springe hold, the cock's mine. [Aside. Clown. I cannot do't without counters.-Let me see; what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of sugar; five pound of currants; |