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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 danc'd |
before the King; and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve |
foot and a half by th' squier. |
SHEPHERD. Leave your prating; since these good men are pleas'd, let |
them come in; but quickly now. |
SERVANT. Why, they stay at door, sir. Exit |
Here a dance of twelve SATYRS |
POLIXENES. [To SHEPHERD] 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, whom, 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 th' 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 th' 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' th' 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. |
POLIXENES. Methinks a father |
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest |
That best becomes the table. Pray you, once more, |
Is not your father grown incapable |
Of reasonable affairs? Is he not stupid |
With age and alt'ring rheums? Can he speak, hear, |
Know man from man, dispute his own estate? |
Lies he not bed-rid, and again does nothing |
But what he did being childish? |
FLORIZEL. No, good sir; |
He has his health, and ampler strength indeed |
Than most have of his age. |
POLIXENES. By my white beard, |
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong |
Something unfilial. Reason my son |
Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason |
The father- all whose joy is nothing else |
But fair posterity- should hold some counsel |
In such a business. |
FLORIZEL. I yield all this; |
But, for some other reasons, my grave sir, |
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint |
My father of this business. |
POLIXENES. Let him know't. |
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