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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, Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman: The love I bore your queen,-lo, fool again! I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children; I'll not remember you of my own lord, Who is lost too: Take your patience to you, And I'll say nothing. Leon.
Thou didst speak but well, When most the truth; which I receive much better Than to be pitied of thee. Pr’ythee, bring me To the dead bodies of my queen, and son: One grave shall be for both; upon them shall The causes of their death appear, unto Our shame perpetual: Once a day I'll visit The chapel where they lie; and tears, shed there, Shall be my recreation: So long as Nature will bear up with this exercise, So long I daily vow to use it. Come, And lead me to these sorrows.
9 I am sorry for't;] This is another instance of the sudden shanges incident to vehement and ungovernable minds.
Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea.
Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Child; and a Mariner.
Ant. Thou art perfect then,' our ship hath
The deserts of Bohemia?
Ay, my lord; and fear
aboard; Look to thy bark; I'll not be long, before I call upon thee.
Mar. Make your best haste; and go not
I am glad at heart
Come, poor babe:
Go thou away:
Thou art perfect then,] Perfect is often used for certain, well assured, or well informed, by almost all our ancient writers.
So fill’d, and so becoming: in pure white robes,
[Laying down the Childa There lie; and there thy character: there these;
[Laying down a Bundle. Which
may, if fortune please, both breed thee,
pretty, And still rest thine. -The storm begins:-Poor
wretch, That, for thy mother's fault, art thus expos'd To loss, and what may follow!-Weep I cannot,
thy character:) thy description; i. e. the writing after wards discovered with Perdita.
But my heart bleeds: and most accursid am I,
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 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 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 hollaed but even now. Whoa, ho hoa!
Enter Clown. Clo. Hilloa, loa! Shep. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing
A boy, or a child,] I am told, that in some of our inland counties, a female infant, in contradistinction to a male one, is still termed, among the peasantry,--a child. STEEVENS.
to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ailest thou, man?
Clo. 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?
Clo. 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 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 flapdragoned it:4—but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them ;-and how the poor gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea, or weather.
Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
Clo. Now, now; I have not winked since I saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman; he's at it
Shep. Would I had been by, to have helped the old man!
Clo. I would you had been by the ship side, to have helped her; there your charity would have lacked footing
[Aside. Shep. Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself; thou met'st
flap-dragoned it:) i. e. swallowed it, as our ancient topers swallowed flap-dragons.