Leon. Would he do so, I'd Which he counts but a trifle. Paul.

beg your pre-claim her with all certainty to be the king's [cious mistress, daughter. Did you see the meeting of the Sir, my liege, 2 Gent. No.

I thought of her, Even in these looks I made. [To Florizel.] But your petition

Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father:
Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,
I am friend to them and you: upon which
errand

[two kings? Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a 3 Gent. Then you have lost a sight, which month [such gazes was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There 'Fore your queen died, she was more worth might you have beheld one joy crown another, Than what you look on now. so, and in such manner, that, it seemed, sorLeon. row wept to take leave of them; for their joy waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with countenances of such distraction, that they were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, cries, "O, thy mother, thy mother!" then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son-in-law; then again worries he his daughter with clipping her; now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by, like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it.

I now go toward him; therefore, follow me,
And mark what way I make: come, good my
lord.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Sicilia. Before the Palace.
Enter Autolycus and a Gentleman.
Aut. Beseech you, sir, were you present at
this relation?

2 Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried hence the child?

1 Gent. I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it: whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all commanded out 3 Gent. Like an old tale still, which will of the chamber; only this, methought I heard have matter to rehearse, though credit be the shepherd say he found the child. [it. asleep, and not an ear open. He was torn to Aut. I would most gladly know the issue of pieces with a bear: this avouches the shep1 Gent. I make a broken delivery of the herd's son; who has not only his innocence business;-but the changes I perceived in the (which seems much) to justify him, but a king and Camillo were very notes of admira- handkerchief and rings of his, that Paulina tion they seemed almost, with staring on one knows. another, to tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture: they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: a notable passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow,-but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be. [Enter Rogero.] Here comes a gentleman, that happily knows more. The news, Rogero!

2 Gent. Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it. [Enter a third Gentleman.] Here comes the lady Paulina's steward: he can deliver you more.-How goes it now, sir? this news, which is called true, is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong suspicion has the king found his heir?

I Gent. What became of his bark, and his followers?

3 Gent. Wrecked, the same instant of their master's death, and in the view of the shepherd: so that all the instruments, which aided to expose the child, were even then lost, when it was found. But, O, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow, was fought in Paulina ! She had one eye declined for the loss of her husband, another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled she lifted the princess from the earth, and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be in danger of losing.

I Gent. The dignity of this act was worth the audience of kings and princes, for by such was it acted.

3 Gent. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that which angled for mine eyes, (caught the water, though not the fish,) was, when at the relation of the queen's death, with the 3 Gent. Most true, if ever truth were preg- manner how she came to it, (bravely confessed nant by circumstance: that which you hear and lamented by the king,) how attentiveness you'll swear you see, there is such unity in the wounded his daughter; till, from one sign of proofs. The mantle of queen Hermione; her dolour to another, she did, with an alas," jewe, about the neck of it; the letters of An-I would fain say, bleed tears; for I am sure tigonus, found with it, which they know to be my heart wept blood. Who was most marble his character; the majesty of the creature, in there changed colour; some swooned, all sorresemblance of the mother; the affection of rowed: if all the world could have seen it, nobleness, which nature shows above her the woe had been universal. breeding; and many other evidences, —pro-l

1 Gent. Are they returned to the court?

Shep. We may live, son, to shed many more.

Clo. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in

Aut. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon

3 Gent. No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, -a piece many years in doing, ard now newly performed by that rare Italian so preposterous estate as we are. master, Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, me all the faults I have committed to your would beguile nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that, they say, one would speak to her, and stand in hope of answer :-thither, with all greediness of affection, are they gone; and there they intend to sup.

2 Gent. I thought she had some great matter there in hand; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. Shall we thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?

worship, and to give me your good report to the prince my master.

Shep. Pr'ythee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen.

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life?
Aut. Ay, an it like your good worship.
Clo. Give me your hand: I will swear to
the prince, thou art as honest a true fellow as
any is in Bohemia.

Shep. You may say it, but not swear it.
Clo. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman?
Let boors and franklins say it. I'll swear it.
Shep. How if it be false, son?

Clo. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in the behalf of his friend :—and I'll swear to the prince, thou art a tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk: but I'll swear it; and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.

I Gent. Who would be thence, that has the benefit of access? every wink of an eye, some new grace will be born: our absence makes it unthrifty to our knowledge. Let's along. [Exeunt Gentlemen. Aut. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought the old man and his son aboard the prince; told him I heard them talk of a fardel, Aut. I will prove so, sir, to my power. and I know not what: but he at that time, Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow : over-fond of the shepherd's daughter, (so he if I do not wonder how thou darest venture to then took her to be,) who began to be much be drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of not.-Hark! the kings and the princes, our weather continuing, this mystery remained kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. undiscovered. But 'tis all one to me; for had Come, follow us: we'll be thy good masters. I been the finder out of this secret, it would not have relished among my other discredits. [Enter Shepherd and Clown.] Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.

Shep. Come, boy; I am past more children, but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Sicilia. In Paulina's House.
Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita,
Camillo, Paulina, Lords, and Attendants.
Leon. O grave and good Paulina, the great
That I have had of thee!
[comfort

Paul.
What, sovereign sir,
I did not well, I meant well. All my services
You have paid home: but that you have
vouchsaf'd
[contracted

Clo. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these clothes? With your crown'd brother, and these your say, you see them not, and think me still no Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to gentleman born: you were best say, these robes are not gentleman born: give me the lie, do; and try whether I am not now gentleman born.

Aut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.

Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.

Shep. And so have I, boy.

Clo. So you have :-but I was a gentleman born before my father; for the king's son took me by the hand, and called me, brother; and then the two kings called my father, brother; and then the prince, my brother, and the princess, my sister, called my father, father; and so we wept; and there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed.

visit,

It is a surplus of your grace, which never
My life may last to answer.
Leon.

O Paulina,
We honour you with trouble: but we came
To see the statue of our queen your gallery
Have we pass'd through, not without much

content

Scene 3.

THE WINTER'S TALE.

Sull sleep mock'd death: behold! and say,
[Paulina draws back a cur-
'tis well.
tain, and discovers a statue.
I like your silence,-it the more shows off
Your wonder but yet speak ;--first, you, my
[liege.
Comes it not something near?
Her natural posture!
Leon.
Chide me, dear stone, that I may say, indeed,
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she,
In thy not chiding, for she was as tender
As infancy and grace.-But yet, Paulina,
Hermione was not so much wrinkled; nothing
So aged, as this seems.
O, not by much.

Pol.

Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence;

Leon.

Which lets go by some sixteen years, and
makes her
As she lived now.
And now she might have done,
So much to my good comfort, as it is
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty, (warm life,
As now it coldly stands,) when first

her!

woo'd

I am asham'd: does not the stone rebuke me
For being more stone than it ?-O, royal piece!
There's magic in thy majesty; which has
My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee!
And give me leave;
Per.
And do not say 'tis superstition, that
I kneel, and then implore her blessing.-Lady,
Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours to kiss.
O, patience!
Paul.
The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's
[laid on,
Not dry.
Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,
So many summers dry: scarce any joy
Did ever so long live; no sorrow,
But kill'd itself much sooner.

Dear my brother,
Pol.
Let him that was the cause of this have power
To take off so much grief from you, as he
Will piece up in himself.
Indeed, my lord,
Paul.
If I had thought the sight of my poor image
Would thus have wrought you, (for the stone
[is mine,)}
I'd not have show'd it.
Do not draw the curtain.
Leon.
Paul. No longer shall you gaze on't, lest
[your fancy
May think anon it moves.
Let be, let be!
Leon.
Would I were dead, but that, methinks,
already-

What was he that did make it ?-See, my lord,
Would you not deem it breath'd? and that
[those veins
Did verily bear blood?
Masterly done :
Pol.
The very life seems warm upon her lip.
Leon. The fixture of her eye has motion in't,
As we are mock'd with art.

Paul.

I'll draw the curtain ;

My lord's almost so far transported, that
He'll think anon it lives.
Leon.

O sweet Paulina,
Make me to think so twenty years together!
No settled senses of the world can match
The pleasure of that madness. Let't alone.
Paul. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd
[you; but
Leon.
I could afflict you further.

Do, Paulina;

For this affliction has a taste as sweet
There is an air comes from her: what fine
As any cordial comfort.-Still, methinks,
chisel
Let no man
[mock me,
For I will kiss her.
Could ever yet cut breath?
Good my lord, forbear :
Paul.
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
You'll mar it, if you kiss it; stain your own.
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?
Leon. No, not these twenty years.
Per.
Stand by, a looker on.
Paul.

So long could 1

Either forbear,
If you can behold it,
Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
I'll make the statue move indeed; descend,
For more amazement.
And take you by the hand: but then you'll
think
(Which I protest against) I am assisted
By wicked powers.

Leon.

What you can make her do,
I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy
I am content to look on: what to speak,
To make her speak, as move.
It is requir'd
Paul.
You do awake your faith. Then, all stand
still;

I am about, let them depart.
Or those that think it is unlawful business

Leon.

No foot shall stir.

Proceed:

Paul. Music, awake her; strike !--[Music. 'Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;

Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come :
I'll fill your grave up: stir; nay, come away;
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from
[stirs.
him
[Hermione comes down from the pedestal.
Dear life redeems you.-You perceive, she
Start not; her actions shall be holy, as
You hear my speil is lawful: do not shun her,
Until you see her die again; for then
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:
in age,
When she was young, you woo'd her; now,

Leon. [Embracing her.] O, she's warm!
If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.

Is she become the suitor.

Pol.

She embraces him.

Cam. She hangs about his neck :
If she pertain to life, let her speak too.

Pol. Ay, and make it manifest that she has
Or how stol'n from the dead.
[liv'd,
Paul.
That she is living,
Were it but told you, should be hooted at
Like an old tale: but it appears she lives,
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little
while.-

own.

Please you to interpose, fair madam: kneel,
And pray your mother's blessing.-Turn, good
Our Perdita is found.
[lady:
[Presenting Perdita, who kneels to Hermione.
Her.
You gods, look down,
And from your sacred vials pour your graces
Upon my daughter's head-Tell me, mine
[how found
Where hast thou been preserv'd? where liv'd?
Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear, that
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle [I,-
Gave hope thou wast in being,-have pre-
Myself to see the issue.
[serv'd
Paul. There's time enough for that:
Lest they desire, upon this push, to trouble
Your joys with like relation.-Go together,
You precious winners all! your exultation
Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,
Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and
there

My mate, that's never to be found again,

An honourable husband.-Come, Camillo,
And take her by the hand, whose worth and
Is richly noted, and here justified [honesty
By us, a pair of kings.-Let's from this place.-
What! look upon my brother:-both your
pardons,

That e'er I put between your holy looks
My ill suspicion.-This your son-in-law, [ing,)
And son unto the king, (whom heavens direct-
Is troth-plight to your daughter.--Good Pau-
lina,

Lead us from hence; where we may leisurely
Each one demand, and answer to his part
Perform'd in this wide gap of time, since first
We were dissever'd: hastily lead away.
[Exeunt.

KING JOHN.

King John.

Prince Henry, his Son.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Arthur, Son of Geffrey, late Duke of Bretagne,
and Nephew to King John.
William Mareshall, Earl of Pembroke.
Geffrey Fitz-Peter, Earl of Essex, Chief
Justiciary of England.

William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury.
Robert Bigot, Earl of Norfolk

Hubert de Burgh, Chamberlain to the King.
Robert Faulconbridge, Son of Sir Robert
Faulconbridge.

Philip Faulconbridge, his Half-brother.
James Gurney, Servant to Lady Faulcon-
bridge.

Peter of Pomfret, a Prophet.

Philip, King of France.
Lewis, the Dauphin.
Archduke of Austria.

Cardinal Pandulpho, the Pope's Legate.
Melun, a French Lord.

Chatillon, Ambassador from France.
Elinor, Widow of King Henry II., and
Mother to King John.

Constance, Mother to Arthur.
Blanch, Daughter to Alphonso, King of
Castile, and Niece to King John.

Lady Faulconbridge, Mother to Robert and
Phi ip Faulconbridge.

Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff,
Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers,
and Attendants.

SCENE,-Sometimes in England, and sometimes in France.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Northampton. A Room of State
in the Palace.

Enter King John, Queen Elinor, Pembroke,
Essex, Salisbury, and others, with Chatillon.
K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would
France with us?

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the King In my behaviour, to the majesty, [of France, The borrow'd majesty of England here. Eli. A strange beginning;--borrow'd majesty! [embassy.

K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the Chat. Philip of France, in right and true beOf thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, [half

Scene 1.

KING JOHN.

Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
To this fair island and the territories;
To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine;
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword
Which sways usurpingly these several titles,
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. [this?
K. John. What follows, if we disallow of
Chat. The proud control of fierce and

bloody war,

You came not of one mother, then, it seems.
Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty
[father:
king,
That is well known; and, as I think, one
But, for the certain knowledge of that truth,
I put you o'er to heaven, and to my mother :-
Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost
Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.
shame thy mother,

And wound her honour with this diffidence. Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. K. John. Here have we war for war, and That is my brother's plea and none of mine; [France. The which if he can prove, 'a pops me out blood for blood, answer At least from fair five hundred pound a year : Controlment for controlment: land! Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my Heaven guard my mother's honour, and my [mouth, The furthest limit of my embassy.

SO

K. John. Bear inine to him, and so depart in peace :

K. John. A good blunt fellow.-Why, being
younger born,

Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?

Bast. I know not why, except to get the land. Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; But once he slander'd me with bastardy : For ere thou canst report I will be there, The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, But whe r I be as true begot, or no, That still I lay upon my mother's head; But, that I am as well begot, my liege, And sullen presage of your own decay.(Fair fal! the bones that took the pains for me!) An honourable conduct let him have :Pembroke, look to't.-Farewell, Chatillon. [Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. Compare our faces, and be judge yourself. Eli. What now, my son! have I not ever | If old Sir Robert did beget us both,

[cease,
said,
How that ambitious Constance would not
Till she had kindled France, and all the world,
Upon the right and party of her son? [whole,
This might have been prevented, and made
With very easy arguments of love;
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

K. John. Our strong possession, and our
[than your right,
right for us.
Eli. Your strong possession, much more
Or else it must go wrong with you, and me:
So much my conscience whispers in your ear,
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall
hear.

Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who
whispers Essex.

Essex. My liege, here is the strangest con-
troversy,

Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?
K. John. Let them approach.-
[Exit Sheriff.
Our abbeys, and our priories, shall pay
This expedition's charge.
Re-enter Sheriff, with Robert Faulconbridge
and Philip, his bastard Brother.
What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I; a gentleman
Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son,
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

[bridge.
Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulcon-
K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the
heir?

And were our father, and this son like him,—
O, old Sir Robert, father, on my knee
I give heaven thanks, I was not like to thee.
K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven
lent us here!

Eli. He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face;
Do you not read some tokens of my son
The accent of his tongue affecteth him :
K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his
[speak,
In the large composition of this man?
parts,
And finds them perfect Richard.-Sirrah,
[father,
land?
What doth move you to claim your brother's
Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my
land
my
With that half-face would he have all
A half-fac'd groat five hundred pound a year!
Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father

liv'd,

Your brother did employ my father much,Bast. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land:

[bassy Your tale must be, how he employ'd my

mother.

Rob. And once despatch'd him in an em-
To treat of high affairs touching that time.
To Germany, there, with the emperor,
The advantage of his absence took the king,
Where how he did prevail, I shame to speak;
And in the mean time sojourn'd at my fathers;
But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and
shores

Between my father and my mother lay,
(As I have heard my father speak himself,)
When this same lusty gentleman was got.
His lands to me; and took it, on his death,
Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd