THE WINTER'S TALE. Sidney Lee

DORCAS

       What, neither?

       AUTOLYCUS

       Neither.

       DORCAS

       Thou hast sworn my love to be;

       MOPSA

       Thou hast sworn it more to me;

       Then whither goest?—say, whither?

       CLOWN

       We’ll have this song out anon by ourselves; my father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we’ll not trouble them.—Come, bring away thy pack after me.—Wenches, I’ll buy for you both:—Pedlar, let’s have the first choice.—Follow me, girls.

       [Exit with DORCAS and MOPSA.]

       AUTOLYCUS.

       [Aside.] And you shall pay well for ‘em.

       Will you buy any tape,

       Or lace for your cape,

       My dainty duck, my dear-a?

       Any silk, any thread,

       Any toys for your head,

       Of the new’st and fin’st, fin’st wear-a?

       Come to the pedlar;

       Money’s a meddler

       That doth utter all men’s ware-a.

       [Exit.]

       [Re-enter Servant.]

       SERVANT

       Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair; they call themselves saltiers: and they have dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not in’t; but they themselves are o’ the mind (if it be not too rough for some that know little but bowling) it will please plentifully.

       SHEPHERD

       Away! we’ll none on’t; here has been too much homely foolery already.—I know, sir, we weary you.

       POLIXENES

       You weary those that refresh us: pray, let’s see these four threes of herdsmen.

       SERVANT

       One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath danced before the king; and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squire.

       SHEPHERD

       Leave your prating: since these good men are pleased, let them come in; but quickly now.

       SERVANT

       Why, they stay at door, sir.

       [Exit.]

       [Enter Twelve Rustics, habited like Satyrs. They dance, and then exeunt.]

       POLIXENES

       O, father, you’ll know more of that hereafter.—

       [To CAMILLO.] Is it not too far gone?—‘Tis time to part them.—

       He’s simple and tells much. [To FLORIZEL.] How now, fair shepherd!

       Your heart is full of something that does take

       Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young

       And handed love as you do, I was wont

       To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack’d

       The pedlar’s silken treasury and have pour’d it

       To her acceptance; you have let him go,

       And nothing marted with him. If your lass

       Interpretation should abuse, and call this

       Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited

       For a reply, at least if you make a care

       Of happy holding her.

       FLORIZEL

       Old sir, I know

       She prizes not such trifles as these are:

       The gifts she looks from me are pack’d and lock’d

       Up in my heart; which I have given already,

       But not deliver’d.—O, hear me breathe my life

       Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,

       Hath sometime lov’d,—I take thy hand! this hand,

       As soft as dove’s down, and as white as it,

       Or Ethiopian’s tooth, or the fann’d snow that’s bolted

       By the northern blasts twice o’er.

       POLIXENES

       What follows this?—

       How prettily the young swain seems to wash

       The hand was fair before!—I have put you out:

       But to your protestation; let me hear

       What you profess.

       FLORIZEL

       Do, and be witness to’t.

       POLIXENES

       And this my neighbour, too?

       FLORIZEL

       And he, and more

       Than he, and men,—the earth, the heavens, and all:—

       That,—were I crown’d the most imperial monarch,

       Thereof most worthy; were I the fairest youth

       That ever made eye swerve; had force and knowledge

       More than was ever man’s,—I would not prize them

       Without her love: for her employ them all;

       Commend them, and condemn them to her service,

       Or to their own perdition.

       POLIXENES

       Fairly offer’d.

       CAMILLO

       This shows a sound affection.

       SHEPHERD

       But, my daughter,

       Say you the like to him?

       PERDITA

       I cannot speak

       So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better:

       By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out

       The purity of his.

       SHEPHERD

       Take hands, a bargain!—

       And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to’t:

       I give my daughter to him, and will make

       Her portion equal his.

       FLORIZEL

       O, that must be

       I’ the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,

       I shall have more than you can dream of yet;

       Enough then for your wonder: but come on,

       Contract us ‘fore these witnesses.

       SHEPHERD

       Come, your hand;—

       And, daughter, yours.

       POLIXENES

       Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you;

       Have you a father?

       FLORIZEL

       I have; but what of him?

       POLIXENES

       Knows he of this?

       FLORIZEL

       He neither does nor shall.