Milton's—
And the rathe primrose that forsaken dies.
'Ib.' Perdita's speech:—
Even here undone:
I was not much afraid; for once or twice
I was about to speak, and tell him plainly,
The self-same sun, that shines upon his court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike. Wilt please you, Sir, be gone!
(To Florizel.)
I told you, what would come of this. Beseech you,
Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,
Being awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
But milk my ewes, and weep.
O how more than exquisite is this whole speech!—And that profound nature of noble pride and grief venting themselves in a momentary peevishness of resentment toward Florizel:—
—Wilt please you, Sir, be gone!
'Ib.' Speech of Autolycus:—
Let me have no lying; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often
give us soldiers the lie; but we pay them for it in stamped coin, not
stabbing steel;—therefore they do not give us the lie.
As we pay them, they, therefore, do not give it us.