In every mess have folly, and the feeders Flo. I blefs the time, When my good falcon made her flight a cross Per. Now Jove afford you caufe! To me the difference forges dread, your greatnefs Should pass this way, as you did: ob, the fates! Flo. Apprehend Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves, As I feem now. Their transformations Per. O, but, dear Sir. Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose, Or I my life. Flo: Thou dearest Perdita, With thefe: forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not 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 conftant, We two have fworn fhall come. Per. O lady fortune, Stand you aufpicious! Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants i with Polixenes and Camillo difguis'd. Flo. See, your guests approach; Addrefs yourself to entertain them sprightly. Shep. Fie, daughter; when my old wife liv'd, upon This day fhe was both pantler, butler, cook, Both dame and fervant; welcom'd all, ferv'd all ; Per. Sirs, welcome. [To Pol. and Cam It is my father's will, I fhould take on me The hoftefsfhip o' th' day; you're welcome, Sirs. Pol. Shepherdess, (A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages With flowers of winter. Per. Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' feason Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. For I have heard it faid, There is an art, which in their piedness shares Pol. Say, there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean; fo over that art, That nature makes; you fee, fweet maid, we marry 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. Per. So it is. Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers, And do not call them baftards. Per. I'll not put The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them: No more than, were I painted, I would wish This youth fhould fay, 'twere well; and only therefore N 4 Per. 1 Per. Out, alas ! You'd be fo lean, that blafts of January Would blow you through and through. Now, my fairefi friend, I would, I had fome flowers o'th' fpring, that might That come before the fwallow dares, and take Flo. What? like a coarse? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on Not like a coarse; or if,-not to be buried But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers In whitfon paftorals; fure, this robe of mine Flo. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you fpeak, (fweet) I'd have you do it ever; when you fing, I'd have you buy and fell fo; fo, give alms; To fing them too. When you do dance, I wish you And own no other function. Each your doing, Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds, Per Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large; but that your youth And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through it, Flo. I think, you have As little skill to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't. But, come; our dance, I pray; That never mean to part. Per. I'll fwear for 'em. Pol. This is the prettieft low-born lafs, that ever Gam. He tells her fomething, (13) That makes her blood look out: good footh, she is Clo. Come on, ftriké up. Dor. Mopfa must be your miftrefs; marry, garlick to mend her kiffing with Mop. Now, in good time! Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manpers; come, ftrike up. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdeffes. Pol. Pray, good fhepherd, what fair fwain is this, Who dances with your daughter? (13). He tells ber Something, That makes ber Blood look on't.] Thus all the old Editions corruptedly. I dare fay, I have restor'd the true Reading; and the Meaning must be this. The Prince tells her Something, that calls the Blood up into her Cheeks, and makes ber blush. She, but a little before, ufes à like Expreffion to defcribe the Prince's Sincerity, which appeared in the honeft Blood rifing on his Face, Your Praifes are too large; but that your Youth And the true Blood, which peeps forth fairly through it, |