SCENE IV. The Shepherd's cottage. Winter's Tale  Shakespeare homepage  |  Winter's Tale  | Act 4, Scene 4 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE IV. The Shepherd's cottage. 

 Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA  FLORIZEL  These your unusual weeds to each part of you 

 Do give a life: no shepherdess, but Flora 

 Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing 

 Is as a meeting of the petty gods, 

 And you the queen on't. 

 PERDITA  Sir, my gracious lord, 

 To chide at your extremes it not becomes me: 

 O, pardon, that I name them! Your high self, 

 The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured 

 With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid, 

 Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts 

 In every mess have folly and the feeders 

 Digest it with a custom, I should blush 

 To see you so attired, sworn, I think, 

 To show myself a glass. 

 FLORIZEL  I bless the time 

 When my good falcon made her flight across 

 Thy father's ground. 

 PERDITA  Now Jove afford you cause! 

 To me the difference forges dread; your greatness 

 Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble 

 To think your father, by some accident, 

 Should pass this way as you did: O, the Fates! 

 How would he look, to see his work so noble 

 Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how 

 Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold 

 The sternness of his presence? 

 FLORIZEL  Apprehend 

 Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves, 

 Humbling their deities to love, have taken 

 The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter 

 Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune 

 A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god, 

 Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, 

 As I seem now. Their transformations 

 Were never for a piece of beauty rarer, 

 Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires 

 Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts 

 Burn hotter than my faith. 

 PERDITA  O, but, sir, 

 Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis 

 Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king: 

 One of these two must be necessities, 

 Which then will speak, that you must 

 change this purpose, 

 Or I my life. 

 FLORIZEL  Thou dearest Perdita, 

 With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not 

 The mirth o' the feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair, 

 Or not my father's. For I cannot be 

 Mine own, nor any thing to any, if 

 I be not thine. To this I am most constant, 

 Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle; 

 Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing 

 That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: 

 Lift up your countenance, as it were the day 

 Of celebration of that nuptial which 

 We two have sworn shall come. 

 PERDITA  O lady Fortune, 

 Stand you auspicious! 

 FLORIZEL  See, your guests approach: 

 Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, 

 And let's be red with mirth. 



 Enter Shepherd, Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO disguised  Shepherd  Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived, upon 

 This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, 

 Both dame and servant; welcomed all, served all; 

 Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here, 

 At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle; 

 On his shoulder, and his; her face o' fire 

 With labour and the thing she took to quench it, 

 She would to each one sip. You are retired, 

 As if you were a feasted one and not 

 The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid 

 These unknown friends to's welcome; for it is 

 A way to make us better friends, more known. 

 Come, quench your blushes and present yourself 

 That which you are, mistress o' the feast: come on, 

 And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, 

 As your good flock shall prosper. 

 PERDITA  [To POLIXENES]                  Sir, welcome: 

 It is my father's will I should take on me 

 The hostess-ship o' the day. 



 To CAMILLO  You're welcome, sir. 

 Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs, 

 For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep 

 Seeming and savour all the winter long: 

 Grace and remembrance be to you both, 

 And welcome to our shearing! 

 POLIXENES  Shepherdess, 

 A fair one are you--well you fit our ages 

 With flowers of winter. 

 PERDITA  Sir, the year growing ancient, 

 Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth 

 Of trembling winter, the fairest 

 flowers o' the season 

 Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors, 

 Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind 

 Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not 

 To get slips of them. 

 POLIXENES  Wherefore, gentle maiden, 

 Do you neglect them? 

 PERDITA  For I have heard it said 

 There is an art which in their piedness shares 

 With great creating nature. 

 POLIXENES  Say there be; 

 Yet nature is made better by no mean 

 But nature makes that mean: so, over that art 

 Which you say adds to nature, is an art 

 That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry 

 A gentler scion to the wildest stock, 

 And make conceive a bark of baser kind 

 By bud of nobler race: this is an art 

 Which does mend nature, change it rather, but 

 The art itself is nature. 

 PERDITA  So it is. 

 POLIXENES  Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, 

 And do not call them bastards. 

 PERDITA  I'll not put 

 The dibble in earth to set one slip of them; 

 No more than were I painted I would wish 

 This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore 

 Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you; 

 Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; 

 The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun 

 And with him rises weeping: these are flowers 

 Of middle summer, and I think they are given 

 To men of middle age. You're very welcome. 

 CAMILLO  I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, 

 And only live by gazing. 

 PERDITA  Out, alas! 

 You'd be so lean, that blasts of January 

 Would blow you through and through. 

 Now, my fair'st friend, 

 I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might 

 Become your time of day; and yours, and yours, 

 That wear upon your virgin branches yet 

 Your maidenheads growing: O Proserpina, 

 For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall 

 From Dis's waggon! daffodils, 

 That come before the swallow dares, and take 

 The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, 

 But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes 

 Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses 

 That die unmarried, ere they can behold 

 Bight Phoebus in his strength--a malady 

 Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and 

 The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, 

 The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack, 

 To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend, 

 To strew him o'er and o'er! 

 FLORIZEL  What, like a corse? 

 PERDITA  No, like a bank for love to lie and play on; 

 Not like a corse; or if, not to be buried, 

 But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers: 

 Methinks I play as I have seen them do 

 In Whitsun pastorals: sure this robe of mine 

 Does change my disposition. 

 FLORIZEL  What you do 

 Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet. 

 I'ld have you do it ever: when you sing, 

 I'ld have you buy and sell so, so give alms, 

 Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs, 

 To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you 

 A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 

 Nothing but that; move still, still so, 

 And own no other function: each your doing, 

 So singular in each particular, 

 Crowns what you are doing in the present deed, 

 That all your acts are queens. 

 PERDITA  O Doricles, 

 Your praises are too large: but that your youth, 

 And the true blood which peepeth fairly through't, 

 Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd, 

 With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, 

 You woo'd me the false way. 

 FLORIZEL  I think you have 

 As little skill to fear as I have purpose 

 To put you to't. But come; our dance, I pray: 

 Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair, 

 That never mean to part. 

 PERDITA  I'll swear for 'em. 

 POLIXENES  This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever 

 Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems 

 But smacks of something greater than herself, 

 Too noble for this place. 

 CAMILLO  He tells her something 

 That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is 

 The queen of curds and cream. 

 Clown  Come on, strike up! 

 DORCAS  Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic, 

 To mend her kissing with! 

 MOPSA  Now, in good time! 

 Clown  Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. 

 Come, strike up! 



 Music. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses  POLIXENES  Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this 

 Which dances with your daughter? 

 Shepherd  They call him Doricles; and boasts himself 

 To have a worthy feeding: but I have it 

 Upon his own report and I believe it; 

 He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter: 

 I think so too; for never gazed the moon 

 Upon the water as he'll stand and read 

 As 'twere my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain. 

 I think there is not half a kiss to choose 

 Who loves another best. 

 POLIXENES  She dances featly. 

 Shepherd  So she does any thing; though I report it, 

 That should be silent: if young Doricles 

 Do light upon her, she shall bring him that 

 Which he not dreams of. 



 Enter Servant  Servant  O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the 

 door, you would never dance again after a tabour and 

 pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you: he sings 

 several tunes faster than you'll tell money; he 

 utters them as he had eaten ballads and all men's 

 ears grew to his tunes. 

 Clown  He could never come better; he shall come in. I 

 love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful 

 matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing 

 indeed and sung lamentably. 

 Servant  He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes; no 

 milliner can so fit his customers with gloves: he 

 has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without 

 bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate 

 burthens of dildos and fadings, 'jump her and thump 

 her;' and where some stretch-mouthed rascal would, 

 as it were, mean mischief and break a foul gap into 

 the matter, he makes the maid to answer 'Whoop, do me 

 no harm, good man;' puts him off, slights him, with 

 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.' 

 POLIXENES  This is a brave fellow. 

 Clown  Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited 

 fellow. Has he any unbraided wares? 

 Servant  He hath ribbons of an the colours i' the rainbow; 

 points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can 

 learnedly handle, though they come to him by the 

 gross: inkles, caddisses, cambrics, lawns: why, he 

 sings 'em over as they were gods or goddesses; you 

 would think a smock were a she-angel, he so chants 

 to the sleeve-hand and the work about the square on't. 

 Clown  Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing. 

 PERDITA  Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in 's tunes. 



 Exit Servant  Clown  You have of these pedlars, that have more in them 

 than you'ld think, sister. 

 PERDITA  Ay, good brother, or go about to think. 



 Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing  AUTOLYCUS  Lawn as white as driven snow; 

 Cyprus black as e'er was crow; 

 Gloves as sweet as damask roses; 

 Masks for faces and for noses; 

 Bugle bracelet, necklace amber, 

 Perfume for a lady's chamber; 

 Golden quoifs and stomachers, 

 For my lads to give their dears: 

 Pins and poking-sticks of steel, 

 What maids lack from head to heel: 

 Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy; 

 Buy lads, or else your lasses cry: Come buy. 

 Clown  If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take 

 no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it 

 will also be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves. 

 MOPSA  I was promised them against the feast; but they come 

 not too late now. 

 DORCAS  He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars. 

 MOPSA  He hath paid you all he promised you; may be, he has 

 paid you more, which will shame you to give him again. 

 Clown  Is there no manners left among maids? will they 

 wear their plackets where they should bear their 

 faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are 

 going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle off these 

 secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all 

 our guests? 'tis well they are whispering: clamour 

 your tongues, and not a word more. 

 MOPSA  I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace 

 and a pair of sweet gloves. 

 Clown  Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the way 

 and lost all my money? 

 AUTOLYCUS  And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; 

 therefore it behoves men to be wary. 

 Clown  Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here. 

 AUTOLYCUS  I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge. 

 Clown  What hast here? ballads? 

 MOPSA  Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print o' 

 life, for then we are sure they are true. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a usurer's 

 wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a 

 burthen and how she longed to eat adders' heads and 

 toads carbonadoed. 

 MOPSA  Is it true, think you? 

 AUTOLYCUS  Very true, and but a month old. 

 DORCAS  Bless me from marrying a usurer! 

 AUTOLYCUS  Here's the midwife's name to't, one Mistress 

 Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives that were 

 present. Why should I carry lies abroad? 

 MOPSA  Pray you now, buy it. 

 Clown  Come on, lay it by: and let's first see moe 

 ballads; we'll buy the other things anon. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Here's another ballad of a fish, that appeared upon 

 the coast on Wednesday the four-score of April, 

 forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this 

 ballad against the hard hearts of maids: it was 

 thought she was a woman and was turned into a cold 

 fish for she would not exchange flesh with one that 

 loved her: the ballad is very pitiful and as true. 

 DORCAS  Is it true too, think you? 

 AUTOLYCUS  Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses more than 

 my pack will hold. 

 Clown  Lay it by too: another. 

 AUTOLYCUS  This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one. 

 MOPSA  Let's have some merry ones. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Why, this is a passing merry one and goes to 

 the tune of 'Two maids wooing a man:' there's 

 scarce a maid westward but she sings it; 'tis in 

 request, I can tell you. 

 MOPSA  We can both sing it: if thou'lt bear a part, thou 

 shalt hear; 'tis in three parts. 

 DORCAS  We had the tune on't a month ago. 

 AUTOLYCUS  I can bear my part; you must know 'tis my 

 occupation; have at it with you. 



 SONG  AUTOLYCUS  Get you hence, for I must go 

 Where it fits not you to know. 

 DORCAS  Whither? 

 MOPSA  O, whither? 

 DORCAS  Whither? 

 MOPSA  It becomes thy oath full well, 

 Thou to me thy secrets tell. 

 DORCAS  Me too, let me go thither. 

 MOPSA  Or thou goest to the orange or mill. 

 DORCAS  If to either, thou dost ill. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Neither. 

 DORCAS  What, neither? 

 AUTOLYCUS  Neither. 

 DORCAS  Thou hast sworn my love to be. 

 MOPSA  Thou hast sworn it more to me: 

 Then whither goest? say, whither? 

 Clown  We'll have this song out anon by ourselves: my 

 father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we'll 

 not trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after 

 me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both. Pedlar, let's 

 have the first choice. Follow me, girls. 



 Exit with DORCAS and MOPSA  AUTOLYCUS  And you shall pay well for 'em. 



 Follows singing  Will you buy any tape, 

 Or lace for your cape, 

 My dainty duck, my dear-a? 

 Any silk, any thread, 

 Any toys for your head, 

 Of the new'st and finest, finest wear-a? 

 Come to the pedlar; 

 Money's a medler. 

 That doth utter all men's ware-a. 



 Exit 

 Re-enter Servant  Servant  Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, 

 three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made 

 themselves all men of hair, they call themselves 

 Saltiers, and they have a dance which the wenches 

 say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are 

 not in't; but they themselves are o' the mind, if it 

 be not too rough for some that know little but 

 bowling, it will please plentifully. 

 Shepherd  Away! we'll none on 't: here has been too much 

 homely 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 

 danced before the king; and not the worst of the 

 three but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squier. 

 Shepherd  Leave your prating: since these good men are 

 pleased, let them come in; but quickly now. 

 Servant  Why, they stay at door, sir. 



 Exit 

 Here a dance of twelve Satyrs  POLIXENES  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, 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? 

 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 altering 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. 

 FLORIZEL  He shall not. 

 POLIXENES  Prithee, let him. 

 FLORIZEL  No, he must not. 

 Shepherd  Let him, my son: he shall not need to grieve 

 At knowing of thy choice. 

 FLORIZEL  Come, come, he must not. 

 Mark our contract. 

 POLIXENES  Mark your divorce, young sir, 



 Discovering himself  Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base 

 To be acknowledged: thou a sceptre's heir, 

 That thus affect'st a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor, 

 I am sorry that by hanging thee I can 

 But shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece 

 Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know 

 The royal fool thou copest with,-- 

 Shepherd  O, my heart! 

 POLIXENES  I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made 

 More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy, 

 If I may ever know thou dost but sigh 

 That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never 

 I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from succession; 

 Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, 

 Far than Deucalion off: mark thou my words: 

 Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time, 

 Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee 

 From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment.-- 

 Worthy enough a herdsman: yea, him too, 

 That makes himself, but for our honour therein, 

 Unworthy thee,--if ever henceforth thou 

 These rural latches to his entrance open, 

 Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, 

 I will devise a death as cruel for thee 

 As thou art tender to't. 



 Exit  PERDITA  Even here undone! 

 I was not much afeard; for once or twice 

 I was about to speak and tell him plainly, 

 The selfsame sun that shines upon his court 

 Hides not his visage from our cottage but 

 Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone? 

 I told you what would come of this: beseech you, 

 Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,-- 

 Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther, 

 But milk my ewes and weep. 

 CAMILLO  Why, how now, father! 

 Speak ere thou diest. 

 Shepherd  I cannot speak, nor think 

 Nor dare to know that which I know. O sir! 

 You have undone a man of fourscore three, 

 That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea, 

 To die upon the bed my father died, 

 To lie close by his honest bones: but now 

 Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me 

 Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch, 

 That knew'st this was the prince, 

 and wouldst adventure 

 To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone! 

 If I might die within this hour, I have lived 

 To die when I desire. 



 Exit  FLORIZEL  Why look you so upon me? 

 I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd, 

 But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am; 

 More straining on for plucking back, not following 

 My leash unwillingly. 

 CAMILLO  Gracious my lord, 

 You know your father's temper: at this time 

 He will allow no speech, which I do guess 

 You do not purpose to him; and as hardly 

 Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear: 

 Then, till the fury of his highness settle, 

 Come not before him. 

 FLORIZEL  I not purpose it. 

 I think, Camillo? 

 CAMILLO  Even he, my lord. 

 PERDITA  How often have I told you 'twould be thus! 

 How often said, my dignity would last 

 But till 'twere known! 

 FLORIZEL  It cannot fail but by 

 The violation of my faith; and then 

 Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together 

 And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks: 

 From my succession wipe me, father; I 

 Am heir to my affection. 

 CAMILLO  Be advised. 

 FLORIZEL  I am, and by my fancy: if my reason 

 Will thereto be obedient, I have reason; 

 If not, my senses, better pleased with madness, 

 Do bid it welcome. 

 CAMILLO  This is desperate, sir. 

 FLORIZEL  So call it: but it does fulfil my vow; 

 I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, 

 Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may 

 Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or 

 The close earth wombs or the profound sea hides 

 In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath 

 To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you, 

 As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend, 

 When he shall miss me,--as, in faith, I mean not 

 To see him any more,--cast your good counsels 

 Upon his passion; let myself and fortune 

 Tug for the time to come. This you may know 

 And so deliver, I am put to sea 

 With her whom here I cannot hold on shore; 

 And most opportune to our need I have 

 A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared 

 For this design. What course I mean to hold 

 Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor 

 Concern me the reporting. 

 CAMILLO  O my lord! 

 I would your spirit were easier for advice, 

 Or stronger for your need. 

 FLORIZEL  Hark, Perdita 



 Drawing her aside  I'll hear you by and by. 

 CAMILLO  He's irremoveable, 

 Resolved for flight. Now were I happy, if 

 His going I could frame to serve my turn, 

 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, 

 Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together 

 Affliction alters. 

 PERDITA  One of these is true: 

 I think affliction may subdue the cheek, 

 But not take in the mind. 

 CAMILLO  Yea, say you so? 

 There shall not at your father's house these 

 seven years 

 Be born another such. 

 FLORIZEL  My good Camillo, 

 She is as forward of her breeding as 

 She is i' the rear our birth. 

 CAMILLO  I cannot say 'tis pity 

 She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress 

 To most that teach. 

 PERDITA  Your pardon, sir; for this 

 I'll blush you thanks. 

 FLORIZEL  My prettiest Perdita! 

 But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo, 

 Preserver of my father, now of me, 

 The medicine of our house, how shall we do? 

 We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son, 

 Nor shall appear in Sicilia. 

 CAMILLO  My lord, 

 Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes 

 Do all lie there: it shall be so my care 

 To have you royally appointed as if 

 The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, 

 That you may know you shall not want, one word. 



 They talk aside 

 Re-enter AUTOLYCUS  AUTOLYCUS  Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his 

 sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold 

 all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a 

 ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, 

 knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, 

 to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who 

 should buy first, as if my trinkets had been 

 hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer: 

 by which means I saw whose purse was best in 

 picture; and what I saw, to my good use I 

 remembered. My clown, who wants but something to 

 be a reasonable man, grew so in love with the 

 wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes 

 till he had both tune and words; which so drew the 

 rest of the herd to me that all their other senses 

 stuck in ears: you might have pinched a placket, it 

 was senseless; 'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a 

 purse; I could have filed keys off that hung in 

 chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song, 

 and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this 

 time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their 

 festival purses; and had not the old man come in 

 with a whoo-bub against his daughter and the king's 

 son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not 

 left a purse alive in the whole army. 



 CAMILLO, FLORIZEL, and PERDITA come forward  CAMILLO  Nay, but my letters, by this means being there 

 So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. 

 FLORIZEL  And those that you'll procure from King Leontes-- 

 CAMILLO  Shall satisfy your father. 

 PERDITA  Happy be you! 

 All that you speak shows fair. 

 CAMILLO  Who have we here? 



 Seeing AUTOLYCUS  We'll make an instrument of this, omit 

 Nothing may give us aid. 

 AUTOLYCUS  If they have overheard me now, why, hanging. 

 CAMILLO  How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear 

 not, man; here's no harm intended to thee. 

 AUTOLYCUS  I am a poor fellow, sir. 

 CAMILLO  Why, be so still; here's nobody will steal that from 

 thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must 

 make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly, 

 --thou must think there's a necessity in't,--and 

 change garments with this gentleman: though the 

 pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee, 

 there's some boot. 

 AUTOLYCUS  I am a poor fellow, sir. 



 Aside  I know ye well enough. 

 CAMILLO  Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half 

 flayed already. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Are you in earnest, sir? 



 Aside  I smell the trick on't. 

 FLORIZEL  Dispatch, I prithee. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Indeed, I have had earnest: but I cannot with 

 conscience take it. 

 CAMILLO  Unbuckle, unbuckle. 



 FLORIZEL and AUTOLYCUS exchange garments  Fortunate mistress,--let my prophecy 

 Come home to ye!--you must retire yourself 

 Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat 

 And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face, 

 Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken 

 The truth of your own seeming; that you may-- 

 For I do fear eyes over--to shipboard 

 Get undescried. 

 PERDITA  I see the play so lies 

 That I must bear a part. 

 CAMILLO  No remedy. 

 Have you done there? 

 FLORIZEL  Should I now meet my father, 

 He would not call me son. 

 CAMILLO  Nay, you shall have no hat. 



 Giving it to PERDITA  Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Adieu, sir. 

 FLORIZEL  O Perdita, what have we twain forgot! 

 Pray you, a word. 

 CAMILLO  [Aside]  What I do next, shall be to tell the king 

 Of this escape and whither they are bound; 

 Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail 

 To force him after: in whose company 

 I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight 

 I have a woman's longing. 

 FLORIZEL  Fortune speed us! 

 Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side. 

 CAMILLO  The swifter speed the better. 



 Exeunt FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and CAMILLO  AUTOLYCUS  I understand the business, I hear it: to have an 

 open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is 

 necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite 

 also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see 

 this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. 

 What an exchange had this been without boot! What 

 a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do 

 this year connive at us, and we may do any thing 

 extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of 

 iniquity, stealing away from his father with his 

 clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of 

 honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not 

 do't: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; 

 and therein am I constant to my profession. 



 Re-enter Clown and Shepherd  Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain: 

 every lane's end, every shop, church, session, 

 hanging, yields a careful man work. 

 Clown  See, see; what a man you are now! 

 There is no other way but to tell the king 

 she's a changeling and none of your flesh and blood. 

 Shepherd  Nay, but hear me. 

 Clown  Nay, but hear me. 

 Shepherd  Go to, then. 

 Clown  She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh 

 and blood has not offended the king; and so your 

 flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show 

 those things you found about her, those secret 

 things, all but what she has with her: this being 

 done, let the law go whistle: I warrant you. 

 Shepherd  I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his 

 son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man, 

 neither to his father nor to me, to go about to make 

 me the king's brother-in-law. 

 Clown  Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you 

 could have been to him and then your blood had been 

 the dearer by I know how much an ounce. 

 AUTOLYCUS  [Aside]  Very wisely, puppies! 

 Shepherd  Well, let us to the king: there is that in this 

 fardel will make him scratch his beard. 

 AUTOLYCUS  [Aside]  I know not what impediment this complaint 

 may be to the flight of my master. 

 Clown  Pray heartily he be at palace. 

 AUTOLYCUS  [Aside]  Though I am not naturally honest, I am so 

 sometimes by chance: let me pocket up my pedlar's excrement. 



 Takes off his false beard  How now, rustics! whither are you bound? 

 Shepherd  To the palace, an it like your worship. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condition 

 of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your 

 names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and any 

 thing that is fitting to be known, discover. 

 Clown  We are but plain fellows, sir. 

 AUTOLYCUS  A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no 

 lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and they 

 often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for 

 it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore 

 they do not give us the lie. 

 Clown  Your worship had like to have given us one, if you 

 had not taken yourself with the manner. 

 Shepherd  Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir? 

 AUTOLYCUS  Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest 

 thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? 

 hath not my gait in it the measure of the court? 

 receives not thy nose court-odor from me? reflect I 

 not on thy baseness court-contempt? Thinkest thou, 

 for that I insinuate, or toaze from thee thy 

 business, I am therefore no courtier? I am courtier 

 cap-a-pe; and one that will either push on or pluck 

 back thy business there: whereupon I command thee to 

 open thy affair. 

 Shepherd  My business, sir, is to the king. 

 AUTOLYCUS  What advocate hast thou to him? 

 Shepherd  I know not, an't like you. 

 Clown  Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant: say you 

 have none. 

 Shepherd  None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. 

 AUTOLYCUS  How blessed are we that are not simple men! 

 Yet nature might have made me as these are, 

 Therefore I will not disdain. 

 Clown  This cannot be but a great courtier. 

 Shepherd  His garments are rich, but he wears 

 them not handsomely. 

 Clown  He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical: 

 a great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking 

 on's teeth. 

 AUTOLYCUS  The fardel there? what's i' the fardel? 

 Wherefore that box? 

 Shepherd  Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box, 

 which none must know but the king; and which he 

 shall know within this hour, if I may come to the 

 speech of him. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Age, thou hast lost thy labour. 

 Shepherd  Why, sir? 

 AUTOLYCUS  The king is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a 

 new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: for, 

 if thou beest capable of things serious, thou must 

 know the king is full of grief. 

 Shepard  So 'tis said, sir; about his son, that should have 

 married a shepherd's daughter. 

 AUTOLYCUS  If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly: 

 the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall 

 feel, will break the back of man, the heart of monster. 

 Clown  Think you so, sir? 

 AUTOLYCUS  Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy 

 and vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to 

 him, though removed fifty times, shall all come 

 under the hangman: which though it be great pity, 

 yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling rogue a 

 ram-tender, to offer to have his daughter come into 

 grace! Some say he shall be stoned; but that death 

 is too soft for him, say I	draw our throne into a 

 sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy. 

 Clown  Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear. an't 

 like you, sir? 

 AUTOLYCUS  He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then 

 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a 

 wasp's nest; then stand till he be three quarters 

 and a dram dead; then recovered again with 

 aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; then, raw as 

 he is, and in the hottest day prognostication 

 proclaims, shall be be set against a brick-wall, the 

 sun looking with a southward eye upon him, where he 

 is to behold him with flies blown to death. But what 

 talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries 

 are to be smiled at, their offences being so 

 capital? Tell me, for you seem to be honest plain 

 men, what you have to the king: being something 

 gently considered, I'll bring you where he is 

 aboard, tender your persons to his presence, 

 whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be in man 

 besides the king to effect your suits, here is man 

 shall do it. 

 Clown  He seems to be of great authority: close with him, 

 give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn 

 bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold: show 

 the inside of your purse to the outside of his hand, 

 and no more ado. Remember 'stoned,' and 'flayed alive.' 

 Shepherd  An't please you, sir, to undertake the business for 

 us, here is that gold I have: I'll make it as much 

 more and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you. 

 AUTOLYCUS  After I have done what I promised? 

 Shepherd  Ay, sir. 

 AUTOLYCUS  Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this business? 

 Clown  In some sort, sir: but though my case be a pitiful 

 one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it. 

 AUTOLYCUS  O, that's the case of the shepherd's son: hang him, 

 he'll be made an example. 

 Clown  Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king and show 

 our strange sights: he must know 'tis none of your 

 daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I 

 will give you as much as this old man does when the 

 business is performed, and remain, as he says, your 

 pawn till it be brought you. 

 AUTOLYCUS  I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side; 

 go on the right hand: I will but look upon the 

 hedge and follow you. 

 Clown  We are blest in this man, as I may say, even blest. 

 Shepherd  Let's before as he bids us: he was provided to do us good. 



 Exeunt Shepherd and Clown  AUTOLYCUS  If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would 

 not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am 

 courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means 

 to do the prince my master good; which who knows how 

 that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring 

 these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he 

 think it fit to shore them again and that the 

 complaint they have to the king concerns him 

 nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far 

 officious; for I am proof against that title and 

 what shame else belongs to't. To him will I present 

 them: there may be matter in it. 



 Exit  Shakespeare homepage  |  Winter's Tale  | Act 4, Scene 4 

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