ACT 3
Scene 3

...am gone forever!
Enter Shepherd.
I would there were no age between ten and
three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the
rest, for there is nothing in the between but getting
wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing,
fighting—Hark you now. Would any but these
boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt
this weather? They have scared away two of my best
sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than
the master. If anywhere I have them, ’tis by the
seaside, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an ’t be thy will,
what have we here? Mercy on ’s, a bairn! A very
pretty bairn. 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 halloed but even now.—Whoa-ho-ho!

... Hilloa, loa!
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?

...a bodkin’s point.
Why, boy, how is it?

...sea or weather.
Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

...at it now.
Would I had been by to have helped the old
man.

...have lacked footing.
Heavy matters, heavy matters. But look
thee here, boy. Now bless thyself. Thou met’st with
things dying, I with things newborn. 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?

...Gold, all gold.
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.

...I’ll bury it.
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.

...i’ th’ ground.
’Tis a lucky day, boy, and we’ll do good
deeds on ’t.
They exit.

ACT 4
Scene 4

...red with mirth.
Enter Shepherd, Shepherd’s Son, Mopsa, Dorcas, Shepherds and Shepherdesses, Servants, Musicians, and Polixenes and Camillo in disguise.
Fie, daughter, when my old wife lived, upon
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and servant; welcomed all; served all;
Would sing her song and dance her turn, now here
At upper end o’ th’ table, now i’ th’ middle;
On his shoulder, and his; her face afire
With labor, and the thing she took to quench it
She would to each one sip. You are retired
As if you were a feasted one and not
The hostess of the meeting. Pray you bid
These unknown friends to ’s welcome, for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o’ th’ feast. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.

...with your daughter?
They call him Doricles, and boasts himself
To have a worthy feeding. But I have it
Upon his own report, and I believe it.
He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter.
I think so too, for never gazed the moon
Upon the water as he’ll stand and read,
As ’twere, my daughter’s eyes. And, to be plain,
I think there is not half a kiss to choose
Who loves another best.

...She dances featly.
So she does anything, though I report it
That should be silent. If young Doricles
Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
Which he not dreams of.

...will please plentifully.
Away! We’ll none on ’t. Here has been too
much homely foolery already.—I know, sir, we
weary you.

...by th’ square.
Leave your prating. Since these good men
are pleased, let them come in—but quickly now.

...a sound affection.
But my daughter,
Say you the like to him?

...purity of his.
Take hands, a bargain.—
And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to ’t:
I give my daughter to him and will make
Her portion equal his.

...fore these witnesses.
Come, your hand—
And daughter, yours.

...he must not.
Let him, my son. He shall not need to grieve
At knowing of thy choice.

...thou cop’st with—
O, my heart!

...ere thou diest.
I cannot speak, nor think,
Nor dare to know that which I know. To Florizell.
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 cursèd 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 lived
To die when I desire.
He exits.

...to my profession.
Enter Shepherd’s Son and Shepherd, carrying the bundle and the box.

...flesh and blood.
Nay, but hear me.

...but hear me!
Go to, then.

...I warrant you.
I will tell the King all, every word, yea, and
his son’s pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest
man, neither to his father nor to me, to go about to
make me the King’s brother-in-law.

...Very wisely, puppies.
Well, let us to the King. There is that in this
fardel will make him scratch his beard.

...are you bound?
To th’ palace, an it like your Worship.

...with the manner.
Are you a courtier, an ’t like you, sir?

...open thy affair.
My business, sir, is to the King.

...thou to him?
I know not, an ’t like you.

...you have none.
to Autolycus
None, sir. I have no pheasant,
cock nor hen.

...a great courtier.
His garments are rich, but he wears them
not handsomely.

...Wherefore that box?
Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and
box which none must know but the King, and
which he shall know within this hour if I may come
to th’ speech of him.

...lost thy labor.
Why, sir?

...full of grief.
So ’tis said, sir—about his son, that should
have married a shepherd’s daughter.

...and “flayed alive.”
to Autolycus
An ’t please you, sir, to
undertake the business for us, here is that gold I
have. I’ll make it as much more, and leave this
young man in pawn till I bring it you.

...what I promised?
Ay, sir.

...me the moiety.
Shepherd hands him money.

...say, even blessed.
Let’s before, as he bids us. He was provided
to do us good.
Shepherd and his son exit.

ACT 5
Scene 2

...my other discredits.
Enter Shepherd and Shepherd’s Son, both dressed in rich clothing.

...of their fortune.
Come, boy, I am past more children, but thy
sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.

...these four hours.
And so have I, boy.

...ever we shed.
We may live, son, to shed many more.

...Prince my master.
Prithee, son, do, for we must be gentle now
we are gentlemen.

...is in Bohemia.
You may say it, but not swear it.

...I’ll swear it.
How if it be false, son?

...thy good masters.
They exit.