• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Would

any but these boil'd brains of nineteen and two and twenty hunt

this weather? They have scar'd away two of my best sheep,

which I

fear the wolf will sooner find than the master. If any where

I

have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck,

an't

be thy will! What have we here? [Taking up the child] Mercy

on's, a barne! A very pretty barne. A boy or a child, I

wonder? A

pretty one; a very pretty one- sure, some scape. Though I am not

bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape.

This

has been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some

behind-door-work;

they were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here.

I'll

take it up for pity; yet I'll tarry till my son come; he halloo'd

but even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!

Enter CLOWN

CLOWN.

Hilloa, loa!

SHEPHERD.

What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk on when

thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail'st thou, man?

CLOWN.

I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land! But I am

not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky; betwixt the

firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.

SHEPHERD.

Why, boy, how is it?

CLOWN.

I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it

takes up the shore! But that's not to the point. O, the most

piteous cry of the poor souls! Sometimes to see 'em, and not to

see 'em; now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, and anon

swallowed with yeast and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a

hogshead. And then for the land service- to see how the bear tore

out his shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and said his

name was Antigonus, a nobleman! But to make an end of the

ship-

to see how the sea flap-dragon'd it; but first, how the poor

souls roared, and the sea mock'd them; and how the poor gentleman

roared, and the bear mock'd him, both roaring louder than the sea or weather.

SHEPHERD.

Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

CLOWN.

Now, now; I have not wink'd since I saw these sights; the

men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half din'd on the

gentleman; he's at it now.

SHEPHERD.

Would I had been by to have help'd the old man!

CLOWN.

I would you had been by the ship-side, to have help'd her;

there your charity would have lack'd footing.

SHEPHERD.

Heavy matters, heavy matters! But look thee here, boy.

Now bless thyself; thou met'st with things dying, I with things

new-born. Here's a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for

a squire's child! Look thee here; take up, take up, boy;

open't.

So, let's see- it was told me I should be rich by the fairies.

This is some changeling. Open't. What's within, boy?

CLOWN.

You're a made old man; if the sins of your youth are

forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!

SHEPHERD.

This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so. Up with't,

keep it close. Home, home, the next way! We are lucky, boy; and

to be so still requires nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go.

Come, good boy, the next way home.

CLOWN.

Go you the next way with your findings. I'll go see if the

bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten.

They

are never curst but when they are hungry. If there be any of him

left, I'll bury it.

SHEPHERD.

That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by that which

is left of him what he is, fetch me to th' sight of him.

CLOWN.

Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' th' ground.

SHEPHERD.

'Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good deeds on't.

Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter TIME, the CHORUS

TIME.

I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror

Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,

Now take upon me, in the name of Time,

To use my wings. Impute it not a crime

To me or my swift passage that I slide

O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried

Of that wide gap, since it is in my pow'r

To o'erthrow law, and in one self-born hour

To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass

The same I am, ere ancient'st order was

Or what is now receiv'd. I witness to

The times that brought them in;