THE WINTER'S TALE. Sidney Lee

Amity too, of your brave father, whom,

       Though bearing misery, I desire my life

       Once more to look on him.

       FLORIZEL

       By his command

       Have I here touch’d Sicilia, and from him

       Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,

       Can send his brother: and, but infirmity,—

       Which waits upon worn times,—hath something seiz’d

       His wish’d ability, he had himself

       The lands and waters ‘twixt your throne and his

       Measur’d, to look upon you; whom he loves,

       He bade me say so,—more than all the sceptres

       And those that bear them, living.

       LEONTES

       O my brother,—

       Good gentleman!—the wrongs I have done thee stir

       Afresh within me; and these thy offices,

       So rarely kind, are as interpreters

       Of my behindhand slackness!—Welcome hither,

       As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too

       Expos’d this paragon to the fearful usage,—

       At least ungentle,—of the dreadful Neptune,

       To greet a man not worth her pains, much less

       The adventure of her person?

       FLORIZEL

       Good, my lord,

       She came from Libya.

       LEONTES

       Where the warlike Smalus,

       That noble honour’d lord, is fear’d and lov’d?

       FLORIZEL

       Most royal sir, from thence; from him whose daughter

       His tears proclaim’d his, parting with her: thence,—

       A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross’d,

       To execute the charge my father gave me,

       For visiting your highness: my best train

       I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss’d;

       Who for Bohemia bend, to signify

       Not only my success in Libya, sir,

       But my arrival, and my wife’s, in safety

       Here, where we are.

       LEONTES

       The blessèd gods

       Purge all infection from our air whilst you

       Do climate here! You have a holy father,

       A graceful gentleman; against whose person,

       So sacred as it is, I have done sin:

       For which the heavens, taking angry note,

       Have left me issueless; and your father’s bless’d,—

       As he from heaven merits it,—with you

       Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,

       Might I a son and daughter now have look’d on,

       Such goodly things as you!

       [Enter a Lord.]

       LORD

       Most noble sir,

       That which I shall report will bear no credit,

       Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,

       Bohemia greets you from himself by me;

       Desires you to attach his son, who has,—

       His dignity and duty both cast off,—

       Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with

       A shepherd’s daughter.

       LEONTES

       Where’s Bohemia? speak.

       LORD

       Here in your city; I now came from him:

       I speak amazedly; and it becomes

       My marvel and my message. To your court

       Whiles he was hast’ning,—in the chase, it seems,

       Of this fair couple,—meets he on the way

       The father of this seeming lady and

       Her brother, having both their country quitted

       With this young prince.

       FLORIZEL

       Camillo has betray’d me;

       Whose honour and whose honesty, till now,

       Endur’d all weathers.

       LORD

       Lay’t so to his charge;

       He’s with the king your father.

       LEONTES

       Who? Camillo?

       LORD

       Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now

       Has these poor men in question. Never saw I

       Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth;

       Forswear themselves as often as they speak:

       Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them

       With divers deaths in death.

       PERDITA

       O my poor father!—

       The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have

       Our contract celebrated.

       LEONTES

       You are married?

       FLORIZEL

       We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;

       The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:—

       The odds for high and low’s alike.

       LEONTES

       My lord,

       Is this the daughter of a king?

       FLORIZEL

       She is,

       When once she is my wife.

       LEONTES

       That once, I see by your good father’s speed,

       Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,

       Most sorry, you have broken from his liking,

       Where you were tied in duty; and as sorry

       Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,

       That you might well enjoy her.

       FLORIZEL

       Dear, look up:

       Though Fortune, visible an enemy,

       Should chase us with my father, power no jot

       Hath she to change our loves.—Beseech you, sir,

       Remember since you ow’d no more to time

       Than I do now: with thought of such affections,

       Step forth mine advocate; at your request

       My father will grant precious things as trifles.

       LEONTES

       Would he do so, I’d beg your precious mistress,

       Which he counts but a trifle.

       PAULINA

       Sir, my liege,