Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I’ll be with you at your sheep-shearing too. If I make not this cheat bring out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled, and my name put in the book of virtue!
[Sings.]
Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a:
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
[Exit.]
SCENE IV. The same. A Shepherd’s Cottage.
Enter Florizel and Perdita.
FLORIZEL.
These your unusual weeds to each part of you
Do give a life, no shepherdess, but Flora
Peering in April’s front. This your sheep-shearing
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the queen on ’t.
PERDITA.
Sir, my gracious lord,
To chide at your extremes it not becomes me;
O, pardon that I name them! Your high self,
The gracious mark o’ th’ land, you have obscur’d
With a swain’s wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddess-like prank’d up. But that our feasts
In every mess have folly, and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, I should blush
To see you so attir’d; swoon, I think,
To show myself a glass.
FLORIZEL.
I bless the time
When my good falcon made her flight across
Thy father’s ground.
PERDITA.
Now Jove afford you cause!
To me the difference forges dread. Your greatness
Hath not been us’d to fear. Even now I tremble
To think your father, by some accident,
Should pass this way, as you did. O, the Fates!
How would he look to see his work, so noble,
Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
Should I, in these my borrow’d flaunts, behold
The sternness of his presence?
FLORIZEL.
Apprehend
Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shapes of beasts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull and bellow’d; the green Neptune
A ram and bleated; and the fire-rob’d god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
As I seem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts
Burn hotter than my faith.
PERDITA.
O, but, sir,
Your resolution cannot hold when ’tis
Oppos’d, as it must be, by the power of the king:
One of these two must be necessities,
Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose,
Or I my life.