FLORIZEL Why look you so upon me?
I am but sorry, not afeard; delay’d,
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But nothing alter’d: what I was, I am;
More straining on for plucking back; not following
My leash unwillingly.
CAMILLO Gracious my lord,
You know your father’s temper: at this time
He will allow no speech (which, I do guess,
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You do not purpose to him) and as hardly
Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear:
Then, till the fury of his highness settle,
Come not before him.
FLORIZEL I not purpose it.
I think – Camillo?
CAMILLO Even he, my lord.
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PERDITA How often have I told you ’twould be thus!
How often said, my dignity would last
But till ’twere known!
FLORIZEL It cannot fail, but by
The violation of my faith; and then
Let nature crush the sides o’th’ earth together,
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And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks:
From my succession wipe me, father; I
Am heir to my affection.
CAMILLO Be advis’d.
FLORIZEL I am: and by my fancy. If my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
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If not, my senses, better pleas’d with madness,
Do bid it welcome.
CAMILLO This is desperate, sir.
FLORIZEL So call it: but it does fulfill my vow;
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
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Be thereat glean’d: for all the sun sees, or
The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hides
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
To this my fair belov’d. Therefore, I pray you,
As you have ever been my father’s honour’d friend,
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When he shall miss me, – as, in faith, I mean not
To see him any more, – cast your good counsels
Upon his passion: let myself and fortune
Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
And so deliver, I am put to sea
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With her whom here I cannot hold on shore;
And most opportune to our need, I have
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepar’d
For this design. What course I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
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Concern me the reporting.
CAMILLO O my lord,
I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for your need.
FLORIZEL Hark, Perdita. [drawing her aside]
[to Camillo] I’ll hear you by and by.
CAMILLO He’s irremoveable,
Resolv’d for flight. Now were I happy, if
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His going I could frame to serve my turn,
Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia
And that unhappy king, my master, whom
I so much thirst to see.
FLORIZEL Now good Camillo;
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I am so fraught with curious business that
I leave out ceremony.
CAMILLO Sir, I think
You have heard of my poor services, i’th’ love
That I have borne your father?
FLORIZEL Very nobly
Have you deserv’d: it is my father’s music
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To speak your deeds, not little of his care
To have them recompens’d as thought on.
CAMILLO Well, my lord,
If you may please to think I love the king,
And through him what’s nearest to him, which is
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction,
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If your more ponderous and settled project
May suffer alteration. On mine honour,
I’ll point you where you shall have such receiving
As shall become your highness; where you may
Enjoy your mistress; from the whom, I see,
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There’s no disjunction to be made, but by –
As heavens forefend! – your ruin. Marry her,
And with my best endeavours in your absence
Your discontenting father strive to qualify
And bring him up to liking.
FLORIZEL How, Camillo,
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May this, almost a miracle, be done?
That I may call thee something more than man
And after that trust to thee.
CAMILLO Have you thought on
A place whereto you’ll go?
FLORIZEL Not any yet:
But as th’ unthought-on accident is guilty
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To what we wildly do, so we profess
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies
Of every wind that blows.
CAMILLO Then list to me:
This follows, if you will not change your purpose,
But undergo this flight; make for Sicilia,
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And there present yourself and your fair princess
(For so I see she must be) ’fore Leontes:
She shall be habited as it becomes
The partner of your bed. Methinks I see
Leontes opening his free arms and weeping
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His welcomes forth; asks thee there ‘Son, forgiveness!’
As ’twere i’th’ father’s person; kisses the hands
Of your fresh princess; o’er and o’er divides him
’Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; th’one
He chides to hell, and bids the other grow
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Faster than thought or time.
FLORIZEL Worthy Camillo,
What colour for my visitation shall I
Hold up before him?
CAMILLO Sent by the king your father
To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
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What you (as from your father) shall deliver,
Things known betwixt us three, I’ll write you down:
The which shall point you forth at every sitting
What you must say; that he shall not perceive
But that you have your father’s bosom there
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And speak his very heart.
FLORIZEL I am bound to you:
There is some sap in this.
CAMILLO A course more promising
Than a wild dedication of yourselves
To unpath’d waters, undream’d shores; most certain
To miseries enough: no hope to help you,
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But as you shake off one, to take another:
Nothing so certain as your anchors, who
Do their best office if they can but stay you
Where you’ll be loath to be. Besides, you know
Prosperity’s the very bond of love,
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Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
Affliction alters.
PERDITA One of these is true:
I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
But not take in the mind.
CAMILLO Yea? say you so?
There shall not, at your father’s house, these seven years
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Be born another such.
FLORIZEL My good Camillo,
She is as forward of her breeding as
She is i’th’ rear ’our birth.
CAMILLO I cannot say ’tis pity
She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress
To m
ost that teach.
PERDITA Your pardon, sir; for this
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I’ll blush you thanks.
FLORIZEL My prettiest Perdita!
But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo,
Preserver of my father, now of me,
The medicine of our house, how shall we do?
We are not furnish’d like Bohemia’s son,
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Nor shall appear in Sicilia.
CAMILLO My lord,
Fear none of this. I think you know my fortunes
Do all lie there: it shall be so my care
To have you royally appointed, as if
The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
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That you may know you shall not want, – one word.
[They talk aside.]
Enter AUTOLYCUS.
AUTOLYCUS Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust,
his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have
sold all my trumpery: not a counterfeit stone, not a
ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad,
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knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep
my pack from fasting: they throng who should buy
first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed and brought
a benediction to the buyer: by which means I saw
whose purse was best in picture; and what I saw, to my
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good use I remembered. My clown (who wants but
something to be a reasonable man) grew so in love
with the wenches’ song, that he would not stir his
pettitoes till he had both tune and words; which so
drew the rest of the herd to me, that all their other
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senses stuck in ears: you might have pinched a placket,
it was senseless; ’twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a
purse; I would have filed keys off that hung in chains:
no hearing, no feeling, but my sir’s song, and admiring
the nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy I
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picked and cut most of their festival purses; and had
not the old man come in with a whoo-bub against his
DAUGHTER and the king’s son, and scared my choughs
from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the
whole army.
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[Camillo, Florizel and Perdita come forward.]
CAMILLO
Nay, but my letters, by this means being there
So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
FLORIZEL
And those that you’ll procure from King Leontes?
CAMILLO Shall satisfy your father.
PERDITA Happy be you!
All that you speak shows fair.
CAMILLO [seeing Autolycus] Who have we here?
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We’ll make an instrument of this; omit
Nothing may give us aid.
AUTOLYCUS If they have overheard me now, – why,
hanging.
CAMILLO How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so?
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Fear not, man; here’s no harm intended to thee.
AUTOLYCUS I am a poor fellow, sir.
CAMILLO Why, be so still; here’s nobody will steal that
from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must
make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly,
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– thou must think there’s a necessity in’t – and change
garments with this gentleman: though the
pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee,
there’s some boot.
AUTOLYCUS I am a poor fellow, sir. [aside] I know ye
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well enough.
CAMILLO Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half
flayed already.
AUTOLYCUS Are you in earnest, sir? [aside] I smell the
trick on’t.
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FLORIZEL Dispatch, I prithee.
AUTOLYCUS Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot
with conscience take it.
CAMILLO Unbuckle, unbuckle.
[Florizel and Autolycus exchange garments.]
Fortunate mistress, – let my prophecy
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Come home to ye! – you must retire yourself
Into some covert: take your sweetheart’s hat
And pluck it o’er your brows, muffle your face,
Dismantle you, and (as you can) disliken
The truth of your own seeming; that you may
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(For I do fear eyes over) to shipboard
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 572
