To nothing but despair. A thousand knees Leon. Go on, go on: Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd All tongues to talk their bitterest. 1 Lord. Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault I'the boldness of your speech. Paul. I am sorry for't; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent: Alas, I have show'd too much The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd To the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief: Do not receive affliction At my petition, I beseech you; rather Let me be punish'd, that have minded you Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, The love I bore your queen,-lo, fool again!— Who is lost too: Take your patience to you, Leon. The causes of their death appear, unto Our shame perpetual: Once a day I'll visit Nature will bear up with this exercise, [Exeunt. SCENE III. BOHEMIA. A DESERT COUNTRY NEAR THE SEA Enter Antigonus, with the Child; and a Mariner. Ant. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia? Mar. Ay, my lord; and fear We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly, And threaten present blusters. In my conscience, The heavens with that we have in hand are angry, And frown upon us. Ant. Their sacred wills be done!-- -Go, get aboard; Look to thy bark; I'll not be long, before I call upon thee. Mar. Make your best haste; and go not Ant. I'll follow instantly. Go thou away; I have heard, (but not believ'd,) the spirits of the dead May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes, My cabin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me; There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe I pr'ythee, call't: for this ungentle business, Of king Polixenes, it should here be laid, wretch, That, for thy mother's fault, art thus expos'd The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have I am gone for ever. A savage clamour? This is the chace; [Exit, pursued by a bear. Enter an old Shepherd. Shep. 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 boil'd 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 any where I have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browzing on 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 holla'd but even now. Whoa, ho hoa! Enter Clown. Clown. Hilloa, loa! Shep. 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. Shep. 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 swallow'd with yest 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 flapdragon'd it:-but, first, how the poor souls roar'd, |