ACT III
SCENE III Bohemia. A desert country near the sea.


 [Enter ANTIGONUS with a Child, and a Mariner]

ANTIGONUS Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon
 The deserts of Bohemia?

Mariner Ay, my lord: and fear
 We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly
 And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
 The heavens with that we have in hand are angry
 And frown upon 's.

ANTIGONUS Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;
 Look to thy bark: I'll not be long before
 I call upon thee.

Mariner Make your best haste, and go not
 Too far i' the land: 'tis like to be loud weather;
 Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
 Of prey that keep upon't.

ANTIGONUS Go thou away:
 I'll follow instantly.

Mariner I am glad at heart
 To be so rid o' the business.

 [Exit]

ANTIGONUS Come, poor babe:
 I have heard, but not believed,
 the spirits o' the dead
 May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
 Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream
 So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
 Sometimes her head on one side, some another;
 I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
 So fill'd and so becoming: in pure white robes,
 Like very sanctity, she did approach
 My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me,
 And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
 Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
 Did this break-from her: 'Good Antigonus,
 Since fate, against thy better disposition,
 Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
 Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
 Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
 There weep and leave it crying; and, for the babe
 Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
 I prithee, call't. For this ungentle business
 Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
 Thy wife Paulina more.' And so, with shrieks
 She melted into air. Affrighted much,
 I did in time collect myself and thought
 This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
 Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously,
 I will be squared by this. I do believe
 Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that
 Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
 Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,
 Either for life or death, upon the earth
 Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
 There lie, and there thy character: there these;
 Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,
 And still rest thine. The storm begins; poor wretch,
 That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed
 To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
 But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am I
 To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell!
 The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have
 A lullaby too rough: I never saw
 The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!
 Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:
 I am gone for ever.

 [Exit, pursued by a bear]

 [Enter a Shepherd]

Shepherd I would there were no age between sixteen and
 three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the
 rest; for there is nothing in the between but
 getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry,
 stealing, fighting--Hark you now! Would any but
 these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty
 hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my
 best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find
 than the master: if any where I have them, 'tis by
 the seaside, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy
 will what have we here! Mercy on 's, a barne a very
 pretty barne! A boy or a child, I wonder? A
 pretty one; a very pretty one: sure, some 'scape:
 though I am not bookish, yet I can read
 waiting-gentlewoman in the 'scape. This has been
 some stair-work, some trunk-work, some
 behind-door-work: they were warmer that got this
 than the poor thing is here. I'll take it up for
 pity: yet I'll tarry till my son come; he hallooed
 but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa!

 [Enter Clown]

Clown Hilloa, loa!

Shepherd What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk
 on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What
 ailest thou, man?

Clown I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land!
 but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the
 sky: betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust
 a bodkin's point.

Shepherd Why, boy, how is it?

Clown I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages,
 how it takes up the shore! but that's not the
 point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls!
 sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em; now the
 ship boring the moon with her main-mast, and anon
 swallowed with yest and froth, as you'ld thrust a
 cork into a hogshead. And then for the
 land-service, to see how the bear tore out his
 shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help and said
 his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an
 end of the ship, to see how the sea flap-dragoned
 it: but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the
 sea mocked them; and how the poor gentleman roared
 and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than
 the sea or weather.

Shepherd Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

Clown Now, now: I have not winked since I saw these
 sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor
 the bear half dined on the gentleman: he's at it
 now.

Shepherd Would I had been by, to have helped the old man!

Clown I would you had been by the ship side, to have
 helped her: there your charity would have lacked footing.

Shepherd Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here,
 boy. Now bless thyself: thou mettest with things
 dying, I with things newborn. Here's a sight for
 thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire's
 child! look thee here; take up, take up, boy;
 open't. So, let's see: it was told me I should be
 rich by the fairies. This is some changeling:
 open't. What's within, boy?

Clown You're a made old man: if the sins of your youth
 are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!

Shepherd This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so: up
 with't, keep it close: home, home, the next way.
 We are lucky, boy; and to be so still requires
 nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go: come, good
 boy, the next way home.

Clown Go you the next way with your findings. I'll go see
 if the bear be gone from the gentleman and how much
 he hath eaten: they are never curst but when they
 are hungry: if there be any of him left, I'll bury
 it.

Shepherd That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by that
 which is left of him what he is, fetch me to the
 sight of him.

Clown Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' the ground.

Shepherd 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds on't.

 [Exeunt]




 THE WINTER'S TALE


ACT IV