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Servant: |
Why, they stay at door, sir. |
POLIXENES: |
O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter. |
Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to part them. |
He's simple and tells much. |
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 loved! 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? |
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