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Should choose himself a wife; but as good reason

The father- all whose joy is nothing else

But fair posterity- should hold some counsel

In such a business.

FLORIZEL.

I yield all this;

But, for some other reasons, my grave sir,

Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint

My father of this business.

POLIXENES.

Let him know't.

FLORIZEL.

He shall not.

POLIXENES.

Prithee let him.

FLORIZEL.

No, he must not.

SHEPHERD.

Let him, my son; he shall not need to grieve

At knowing of thy choice.

FLORIZEL.

Come, come, he must not.

Mark our contract.

POLIXENES.

[Discovering himself] Mark your divorce, young sir,

Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base

To be acknowledg'd- thou a sceptre's heir,

That thus affects a sheep-hook! Thou, old traitor,

I am sorry that by hanging thee I can but

Shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece

Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know

The royal fool thou cop'st with-

SHEPHERD.

O, my heart!

POLIXENES.

I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers and made

More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,

If I may ever know thou dost but sigh

That thou no more shalt see this knack- as never

I mean thou shalt- we'll bar thee from succession;

Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,

Farre than Deucalion off. Mark thou my words.

Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,

Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee

From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment,

Worthy enough a herdsman- yea, him too

That makes himself, but for our honour therein,

Unworthy thee- if ever henceforth thou

These rural latches to his entrance open,

Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,

I will devise a death as cruel for thee

As thou art tender to't. Exit

PERDITA. Even here undone!

I was not much afeard; for once or twice

I was about to speak and tell him plainly

The self-same sun that shines upon his court

Hides not his visage from our cottage, but

Looks on alike. [To FLORIZEL] 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.

CAMILLO.

Why, how now, father!

Speak ere thou diest.

SHEPHERD.

I cannot speak nor think,

Nor dare to know that which I know. [To FLORIZEL] O sir,

You have undone a man of fourscore-three

That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,

To die upon the bed my father died,

To lie close by his honest bones; but now

Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me

Where no priest shovels in dust. [To PERDITA] O cursed wretch,

That knew'st this was the Prince, and wouldst adventure

To mingle faith with him!- Undone, undone!

If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd

To die when I desire. Exit

FLORIZEL. Why look you so upon me?

I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd,

But nothing alt'red. What I was, I am:

More straining on for plucking back; not following

My leash unwillingly.

CAMILLO.

Gracious, my lord,

You know your father's temper. At this time

He will allow no speech- which I do guess

You do not purpose to him- and as hardly

Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear;

Then, till the fury of his Highness settle,

Come not before him.

FLORIZEL.

I not purpose it.

I think Camillo?

CAMILLO.

Even he, my lord.

PERDITA.

How often have I told you 'twould be thus!

How often said my dignity would last

But till 'twere known!

FLORIZEL.

It cannot fail but by

The violation of my faith; and then

Let nature crush the sides o' th' earth together

And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks.

From my succession wipe me, father; I

Am heir to my affection.

CAMILLO.

Be advis'd.

FLORIZEL.

I am- and by my fancy; if my reason

Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness,

Do bid it welcome.

CAMILLO.

This is desperate, sir.

FLORIZEL.

So call it; but it does fulfil my vow:

I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,

Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may

Be