Digest it with a custom, I should blush Flo. I bless the time, When my good falcon made her flight across Thy father's ground. Per. Should pass this way, as you did. O the fates! Flo. Apprehend Per. 2 O, but, dear sir, Opposed, as it must be, by the power o' the king: Which then will speak; that you must change this purpose, Or I my life. Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, With these forced thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not The mirth o' the feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair, 1 Meaning the difference between his rank and hers. 2 Dear is wanting in the oldest copy. 3 i. e. far-fetched, not arising from present objects. Or not my father's; for I cannot be I be not thine: to this I am most constant, Of celebration of that nuptial, which We two have sworn shall come. Per. Stand you auspicious! O lady Fortune, Enter Shepherd, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO, disguised; Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others. Flo. See, your guests approach: Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, And let's be red with mirth. Shep. Fie, daughter! When my old wife lived, upon This day, she was both pantler, butler, cook; Both dame and servant; welcomed all, served all; With labor; and the thing she took to quench it, As if You are retired, and not Pray you, bid These unknown friends to us welcome; for it is As your good flock shall prosper. Per. Welcome, sir! [To POL. It is my father's will I should take on me The hostesship o' the day. You're welcome, sir! [TO CAMILLO. Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.-Reverend sirs, For you there's rosemary, and rue; these keep Seeming, and savor,1 all the winter long. 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 summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter,-the fairest flowers o' the season Which some call nature's bastards.. Of that kind To get slips of them. Pol. Do you neglect them? Per. Wherefore, gentle maiden, For I have heard it said, There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares With great creating nature. Pol. Say, there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean; so, o'er 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 Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilliflowers, And do not call them bastards. I'll not put Per. This youth should say, 'twere well; and only therefore 1 i. e. appearance and smell. Rue, being used in exorcisms, was called herb of grace, and rosemary was supposed to strengthen the memory; it is prescribed for that purpose in the ancient herbals. Ophelia distributes the same plants with the same attributes. 2 The allusion is to the common practice of producing, by art, particular varieties of colors on flowers, especially on carnations. Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you; Per. Out, alas! You'd be so lean, that blasts of January your flock, Would blow you through and through.-Now, my fair est friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring, that might That come before the swallow dares, and take Flo. to be buried, Come, take your flowers. 1 "Some call it sponsus solis, the spowse of the sunne, because it sleeps and is awakened with him."-Lupton's Notable Things, book vi. 2 Perhaps the true explanation of this passage may be deduced from the subjoined verses in the original edition of Milton's Lycidas, which he subsequently omitted, and altered the epithet unwedded to forsaken in the preceding line. "Bring the rathe primrose that unwedded dies, Methinks, I play as I have seen them do In Whitsun' pastorals. Sure, this robe of mine Flo. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms; Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, you Per. You wooed me the false way. Flo. I think you have That never mean to part. Per. I'll swear for 'em.2 Pol. 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. He tells her something, Cam. The queen of curds and cream. Clo. Good sooth, she is Come on, strike up. Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic, To mend her kissing with. 1 i. e. you as little know how to fear that I am false, as, &c. 2 This is a common phrase of acquiescence, like “I'll warrant you." |