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In every mess have folly, and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, I should blush

To see you so attired ; sworn, I think,
To Thew myself a glass.

Flo. I bless the time,
When my good falcon made her flight a cross
Thy father's ground.

Per. Now Jove afford you cause !
To me the difference forges dread, your greatness
Hath not been us'd to fear; even now I tremble
To think your father, by some accident,
Should pass this way, as you did : oh, the fates !
How would he look, to see his work, so noble,
Vildly bound up! what would he say! or how
Should I in these my borrow'd flaunts behold
The fternness of his presence !

Flo. Apprehend
Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shapes of beasts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd ; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd God,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
As I seem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way fo chaste: fince my desires
Run not before pine honour, nor my lufts
Burn hotter than my faith.

Per. O, but, dear Sir.
Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd, as it must be, by th' power o' th' King.
One of these two must be necessities,
Which then will speak, that you must change this

Or I my life.

Flo: Thou deareft Perdita,
With these forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o’th' feaft; or I'll be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
Ming own, nor any thing to any, if

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I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
Tho' destiny say no. Be merry, (Gentle,)
Strangle such thoughts as these, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which
We two have sworn shall come.

Per. O lady fortune,
Stand you auspicious !
Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants ;

with Polixenes and Camillo disguis' d.
Fl. See, your guests approach;
Address yourself to entertain them sprightly.
And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fie, daughter; when my old wife liv'd, upon
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and servant; welcom'd all, serv'd all ;
Would fing her song, and dance her turn; now here

upper end o'th'table; now i'th' middle :,
On his shoulder, and his; her face o'fire
With labour ; and the thing the took to quench it
She would to each one fip. You are retired,
As if you were a feafted one, and not
The hostess of the meeting : pray you, bid
These unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes, and present yourself

That which you are, mistress o'th' feast. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your sheep-lhearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.
Per. Sirs, welcome.

[To Pol. and Cam.
It is my father's will, I should take on me
The hostessship o'th' day ; you're welcome, Sirs.
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend Sirs,
For you there's rosemary and rue, these keep
Seeming and savour all the winter long :
Grace and remembrance be unto you both,
And welcome to our fhearing !



Pol. Shepherdess,
(A fair one are you;) well you fit our ages
With Aowers of winter.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,
Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth
of trembling winter, the faireft Aowers o'th' season
Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly flowers,
Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind
Our rustick garden's barren, and I care not
To get slips of them.

Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden,
Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it said,
There is an art, which in their piedness shares
With great creating nature,

Poli Say, there be ;
Yet nature is made better by no mean,
But nature makes that mean; fo over that art,
Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art
That nature kes; you fee, sweet maid, we marry
A gentler scyon to the wildest stock;
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
By bud of nobler race. This is an art,
Which does mend nature ; change it rather ; but
The art itself is nature.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers,
And do not call them bastards.

Per. I'll not put
The dibble in earth, to set one slip of them :
No more than, were I painted, I would wish
This youth should say, 'twere well ; and only therefore
Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you ;
Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram,
The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun,
And with him rises, weeping : these are flowers
Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age. Y'are

very welcome.
Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
And only live by gazing.


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Per. Out, alas!
You'd be so lean, that blafts of January
Would blow you through and through. Now, my faireff

I would, I had some flowers o'th' spring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin-branches yet
Your maiden-heads growing: O Proserpina,
For the Aowers now, that, frighted, thou let'rt fall
From Dis's waggon! daffadils,
That come before the fwallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phæbus in his strength ; (a malady,
Moft incident to maids;) bold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial ; lillies of all kinds,
The flower-de-lis being one. O, these I lack
To make you garlands of, and, my fweet friend,
To ftrow him o'er and o'er.

Flo. What? like a coarse

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 :
Methinks, I play as I have seen them do
In whitson pastorals ; fure, this robe of mine
Does change my disposition.

Fl. What you do,
Still betters what is done. When you speak, (sweet)
I'd have you do it ever ; when you sing,
I'd have you buy and sell fo; so, give alms ;
Pray, so; and for the ord'ring your affairs,
To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' th' fea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move ftill, fill fo,
And own no other function. Each your doing,
So fingular in each particular,
Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are Queens,

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Per. O Doricles,
Your praises are too large ; but that your youth
And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through it,
Do plainly give you out an unftain'd shepherd ;
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
You woo'd me the false

Flo. I think, you have
As little skill to fear, as I have purpose
To put you to't. But, come ; our dance, I pray ;
Your hand, my Perdita ; so turtles pair,
That never mean to part.

Per. I'll swear for 'em.

Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lafs, that ever
Ran on the green-ford: nothing she does, or seems,
But smacks of something greater than herself,
Too noble for this place.

Gam. He tells her something, (13)
That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is
The Queen of curds and cream.
Clo. Come on, strike

Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress ; marry, garlick to
mend her kisfing with

Mop. Now, in good time.!

Cló. Not a word, a word ; we stand upon our man-
Ders ; comes strike up.

Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdefjes.
Pol. Pray, good Shepherd, what fair swain is this,
Who dances with your daughter?

He tells ber Somer bing,
That makes ber Blood look on't.] Thus all the old Editions
corruptedly. I dare say, I have restor'd the true Reading; and
the Meaning muft be this. The Prince tells her Something, bat
calls tbe Blood up into ber Cbeeks, and makes ber blush. She, but a
little before, uses à like Expression to describe the Prince's Sin-
cerity, which appeared in the honest Blood rising on his Face, ':
Four Praises are too large; battbat your

And the true Blood, wbicb peeps forth fairly through it,
De plainly give you out as unfain'd Sbepberdo


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