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Page 35
FLORIZEL.
What, like a corse?
PERDITA.
No; like a bank for love to lie and play on;
Not like a corse; or if,--not to be buried,
But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers;
Methinks I play as I have seen them do
In Whitsun pastorals: sure, this robe of mine
Does change my disposition.
FLORIZEL.
What you do
Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
I'd have you do it ever; when you sing,
I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms;
Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,
To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own
No other function: each your doing,
So singular in each particular,
Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are queens.
PERDITA.
O Doricles,
Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
And the true blood which peeps fairly through it,
Do plainly give you out an unstained shepherd,
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
You woo'd me the false way.
FLORIZEL.
I think you have
As little skill to fear as I have purpose
To put you to't. But, come; our dance, I pray:
Your hand, my Perdita; so turtles pair
That never mean to part.
PERDITA.
I'll swear for 'em.
POLIXENES.
This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems
But smacks of something greater than herself,
Too noble for this place.
CAMILLO.
He tells her something
That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is
The queen of curds and cream.
CLOWN.
Come on, strike up.
DORCAS.
Mopsa must be your mistress; marry, garlic,
To mend her kissing with!
MOPSA.
Now, in good time!
CLOWN.
Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners.--
Come, strike up.
[Music. Here a dance Of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.]
POLIXENES.
Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this
Which dances with your daughter?
SHEPHERD.
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 gaz'd 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.
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