ANTIGONUS
art perfect, then, our ship 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 bark: I’ll not be long before
I call upon .
MARINER
Make your best haste, and go not
Too far i’ th’ land: like to be loud weather;
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey that keep upon ’t.
ANTIGONUS
Go away:
I’ll follow instantly.
MARINER
I am glad at heart
To be so rid o’ th’ business.
ANTIGONUS
Come, poor babe.
I have heard, but not believ’d, the spirits of the dead
May walk again: if such thing be, mother
Appear’d to me last night; for 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,
Did this break from her: “Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against better disposition,
made person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to oath,
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
There weep, and leave it crying. And, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita
I call’t. For this ungentle business,
Put on by my lord, see
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 squar’d by this. I do believe
Hermione 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 well! There lie; and there character: there these;
ANTIGONUS
Which may if fortune please, both breed , pretty,
And still rest . The storm begins: poor wretch,
That for mother’s fault art thus expos’d
To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds, and most accurs’d 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.
SHEPHERD
I would there were no age between ten 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 anywhere I have them, by the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an ’t be will, what have we here?
SHEPHERD
Mercy on ’s, a bairn! A very pretty bairn! 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 halloed but even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!
CLOWN
Hilloa, loa!
SHEPHERD
What, art so near? If thou’lt see a thing to talk on when art dead and rotten, come . What ail’st , 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 to 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 mainmast, and swallowed with yest and froth, as you’d 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-dragon’d 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 here, boy. Now bless thyself: met’st with things dying, I with things new-born. Here’s a sight for . Look , a bearing-cloth for a squire’s child! Look 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 it, 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 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 mayest discern by that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to th’ sight of him.
CLOWN
Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i’ th’ ground.
SHEPHERD
a lucky day, boy, and we’ll do good deeds on ’t.