Page 799 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes [25]
Became two spouts; the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her: ‘Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,

Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, [30]
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
There weep, and leave it crying: and, for the babe

Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
I prithee, call ’t. For this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne’er shalt see [35]
Thy wife Paulina more’. And so, with shrieks,

She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect myself, and thought
This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously, [40]

I will be squar’d by this. I do believe
Hermione hath suffer’d death; and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,

Either for life or death, upon the earth [45]
Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
There lie, and there thy character: there these,
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 [50]
To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds; and most accurs’d am I

To be by oath enjoin’d to this. Farewell!
The day frowns more and more: thou ’rt like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never saw [55]
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!

Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:
I am gone for ever!
Exit, pursued by a bear.

(Enter a Shepherd.)