Scene 4 a mile-a.
Enter Florizell and Perdita.

...queen on ’t.
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’ th’ land, you have obscured
With a swain’s wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddesslike pranked 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, swoon, I think,
To show myself a glass.

...Thy father’s ground.
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 borrowed flaunts, behold
The sternness of his presence?

...than my faith.
O, but sir,
Your resolution cannot hold when ’tis
Opposed, as it must be, by th’ 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.

...sworn shall come.
O Lady Fortune,
Stand you auspicious!

...flock shall prosper.
to Polixenes
Sir, welcome.
It is my father’s will I should take on me
The hostess-ship o’ th’ 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 savor all the winter long.
Grace and remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing. of winter.
Sir, the year growing ancient,
Not yet on summer’s death nor on the birth
Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o’ th’ season
Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors,
Which some call nature’s bastards. Of that kind
Our rustic garden’s barren, and I care not
To get slips of them. neglect them?
For I have heard it said
There is an art which in their piedness shares
With great creating nature.

...itself is nature.
So it is. them bastards.
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, savory, marjoram,
The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ th’ 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. by gazing.
Out, alas!
You’d be so lean that blasts of January
Would blow you through and through. (To Florizell.)

Now, my fair’st friend,
I would I had some flowers o’ th’ spring, that might
Become your time of day, (to the Shepherdesses)

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 wagon! 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
Bright 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. a corse?
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.

...acts are queens.
O Doricles,
Your praises are too large. But that your youth
And the true blood which peeps fairly through ’t
Do plainly give you out an unstained shepherd,
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
You wooed me the false way.

...mean to part.
I’ll swear for ’em.

...him approach singing.
Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words
in ’s tunes.’d think, sister.
Ay, good brother, or go about to think. to him?
I cannot speak
So well, nothing so well, no, nor mean better.
By th’ pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his.

...tender to ’t.
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. To Florizell.

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.

...he, my lord.
to Florizell
How often have I told you ’twould be thus?
How often said my dignity would last
But till ’twere known? and by.
Florizell and Perdita walk aside.

...together Affliction alters.
One of these is true.
I think affliction may subdue the cheek
But not take in the mind.

...most that teach.
Your pardon, sir. For this
I’ll blush you thanks.

...want, one word.
They step aside and talk.

...the whole army.
Camillo, Florizell, and Perdita come forward.

...satisfy your father.
Happy be you!
All that you speak shows fair.

...shipboard Get undescried.
I see the play so lies
That I must bear a part.

...have no hat.
He gives Florizell’s hat to Perdita., a word.
They talk aside.

...speed the better.
Camillo, Florizell, and Perdita exit.

Scene 1

...They are come.
Enter Florizell, Perdita, Cleomenes, and others.

...deaths in death.
O my poor father!
The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
Our contract celebrated.

...good my lord.
They exit.

Scene 3

...thy good masters.
Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizell, Perdita, Camillo, Paulina, and Lords.

...stone with thee.
And give me leave,
And do not say ’tis superstition, that
I kneel, and then implore her blessing.She kneels.

Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours to kiss.

...these twenty years.
So long could I
Stand by, a looker-on.

...Hastily lead away.
They exit.