Cam. Be aduis'd

Flo. I am: and by my fancie, if my Reason

Will thereto be obedient: I haue reason:

If not, my sences better pleas'd with madnesse,

Do bid it welcome

Cam. This is desperate (sir.)

Flo. So call it: but it do's fulfill my vow:

I needs must thinke it honesty. Camillo,

Not for Bohemia, nor the pompe that may

Be thereat gleaned: for all the Sun sees, or

The close earth wombes, or the profound seas, hides

In vnknowne fadomes, will I breake my oath

To this my faire belou'd: Therefore, I pray you,

As you haue euer bin my Fathers honour'd friend,

When he shall misse me, as (in faith I meane not

To see him any more) cast your good counsailes

Vpon his passion: Let my selfe, and Fortune

Tug for the time to come. This you may know,

And so deliuer, I am put to Sea

With her, who heere I cannot hold on shore:

And most opportune to her neede, I haue

A Vessell rides fast by, but not prepar'd

For this designe. What course I meane to hold

Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor

Concerne me the reporting

Cam. O my Lord,

I would your spirit were easier for aduice,

Or stronger for your neede

Flo. Hearke Perdita,

Ile heare you by and by

Cam. Hee's irremoueable,

Resolu'd for flight: Now were I happy if

His going, I could frame to serue my turne,

Saue him from danger, do him loue and honor,

Purchase the sight againe of deere Sicillia,

And that vnhappy King, my Master, whom

I so much thirst to see

Flo. Now good Camillo,

I am so fraught with curious businesse, that

I leaue out ceremony

Cam. Sir, I thinke

You haue heard of my poore seruices, i'th loue

That I haue borne your Father?

Flo. Very nobly

Haue you deseru'd: It is my Fathers Musicke

To speake your deeds: not little of his care

To haue them recompenc'd, as thought on

Cam. Well (my Lord)

If you may please to thinke I loue the King,

And through him, what's neerest to him, which is

Your gracious selfe; embrace but my direction,

If your more ponderous and setled proiect

May suffer alteration. On mine honor,

Ile point you where you shall haue such receiuing

As shall become your Highnesse, where you may

Enioy your Mistris; from the whom, I see

There's no disiunction to be made, but by

(As heauens forefend) your ruine: Marry her,

And with my best endeuours, in your absence,

Your discontenting Father, striue to qualifie

And bring him vp to liking

Flo. How Camillo

May this (almost a miracle) be done?

That I may call thee something more then man,

And after that trust to thee

Cam. Haue you thought on

A place whereto you'l go?

Flo. Not any yet:

But as th' vnthought-on accident is guiltie

To what we wildely do, so we professe

Our selues to be the slaues of chance, and flyes

Of euery winde that blowes

Cam. Then list to me:

This followes, if you will not change your purpose

But vndergo this flight: make for Sicillia,

And there present your selfe, and your fayre Princesse,

(For so I see she must be) 'fore Leontes;

She shall be habited, as it becomes

The partner of your Bed. Me thinkes I see

Leontes opening his free Armes, and weeping

His Welcomes forth: asks thee there Sonne forgiuenesse,

As 'twere i'th' Fathers person: kisses the hands

Of your fresh Princesse; ore and ore diuides him,

'Twixt his vnkindnesse, and his Kindnesse: th' one

He chides to Hell, and bids the other grow

Faster then Thought, or Time

Flo. Worthy Camillo,

What colour for my Visitation, shall I

Hold vp before him?

Cam. Sent by the King your Father

To greet him, and to giue him comforts. Sir,

The manner of your bearing towards him, with

What you (as from your Father) shall deliuer,

Things knowne betwixt vs three, Ile write you downe,

The which shall point you forth at euery sitting

What you must say: that he shall not perceiue,

But that you haue your Fathers Bosome there,

And speake his very Heart

Flo. I am bound to you:

There is some sappe in this

Cam. A Course more promising,

Then a wild dedication of your selues

To vnpath'd Waters, vndream'd Shores; most certaine,

To Miseries enough: no hope to helpe you,

But as you shake off one, to take another:

Nothing so certaine, as your Anchors, who

Doe their best office, if they can but stay you,

Where you'le be loth to be: besides you know,

Prosperitie's the very bond of Loue,

Whose fresh complexion, and whose heart together,

Affliction alters

Perd. One of these is true:

I thinke Affliction may subdue the Cheeke,

But not take-in the Mind

Cam. Yea? say you so?

There shall not, at your Fathers House, these seuen yeeres

Be borne another such

Flo. My good Camillo,

She's as forward, of her Breeding, as

She is i'th' reare' our Birth

Cam. I cannot say, 'tis pitty

She lacks Instructions, for she seemes a Mistresse

To most that teach

Perd. Your pardon Sir, for this,

Ile blush you Thanks

Flo. My prettiest Perdita.

But O, the Thornes we stand vpon: (Camillo)

Preseruer of my Father, now of me,

The Medicine of our House: how shall we doe?

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

Nor shall appeare in Sicilia

Cam. My Lord,

Feare none of this: I thinke you know my fortunes

Doe all lye there: it shall be so my care,

To haue you royally appointed, as if

The Scene you play, were mine. For instance Sir,

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

Enter Autolicus.

Aut. Ha, ha, what a Foole Honestie is? and Trust (his

sworne brother) a very simple Gentleman. I haue sold

all my Tromperie: not a counterfeit Stone, not a Ribbon,

Glasse, Pomander, Browch, Table-booke, Ballad, Knife,

Tape, Gloue, Shooe-tye, Bracelet, Horne-Ring, to keepe

my Pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first,

as if my Trinkets had beene hallowed, and brought a benediction

to the buyer: by which meanes, I saw whose

Purse was best in Picture; and what I saw, to my good

vse, I remembred. My Clowne (who wants but something

to be a reasonable man) grew so in loue with the

Wenches Song, that hee would not stirre his Petty-toes,

till he had both Tune and Words, which so drew the rest

of the Heard to me, that all their other Sences stucke in

Eares: you might haue pinch'd a Placket, it was sencelesse;

'twas nothing to gueld a Cod-peece of a Purse: I

would haue fill'd Keyes of that hung in Chaynes: no

hearing, no feeling, but my Sirs Song, and admiring the

Nothing of it. So that in this time of Lethargie, I pickd

and cut most of their Festiuall Purses: And had not the

old-man come in with a Whoo-bub against his Daughter,

and the Kings Sonne, and scar'd my Chowghes from

the Chaffe, I had not left a Purse aliue in the whole

Army

Cam. Nay, but my Letters by this meanes being there

So soone as you arriue, shall cleare that doubt

Flo. And those that you'le procure from King Leontes?

Cam. Shall satisfie your Father

Perd. Happy be you:

All that you speake, shewes faire

Cam. Who haue we here?

Wee'le make an Instrument of this: omit

Nothing may giue vs aide

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