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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; |
I am so fraught with curious business that |
I leave out ceremony. |
CAMILLO: |
Sir, I think |
You have heard of my poor services, i' the love |
That I have borne your father? |
FLORIZEL: |
Very nobly |
Have you deserved: it is my father's music |
To speak your deeds, not little of his care |
To have them recompensed as thought on. |
CAMILLO: |
Well, my lord, |
If you may please to think I love the king |
And through him what is nearest to him, which is |
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction: |
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, |
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, |
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 the unthought-on accident is guilty |
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, |
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 |
His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness, |
As 'twere i' the father's person; kisses the hands |
Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him |
'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one |
He chides to hell and bids the other grow |
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 |
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 |
And speak his very heart. |
FLORIZEL: |
I am bound to you: |
There is some sap in this. |
CAMILLO: |
A cause 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, |
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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