Page 803 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

ACT IV IT

Scene I IT

Enter Time, the Chorus.

TIME
I that please some, try all: both joy and terror
Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,

To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me, or my swift passage, that I slide [5]
O’er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried
Of that wide gap, since it is in my power
To o’erthrow law, and in one self-born hour

To plant and o’erwhelm custom. Let me pass
The same I am, ere ancient’st order was, [10]
Or what is now receiv’d. I witness to

The times that brought them in; so shall I do
To th’ freshest things now reigning, and make stale
The glistering of this present, as my tale
Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing, [15]
I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing

As you had slept between: Leontes leaving,
Th’ effects of his fond jealousies so grieving
That he shuts up himself, imagine me,

Gentle spectators, that I now may be [20]
In fair Bohemia, and remember well
I mentioned a son o’ th’ king’s, which Florizel
I now name to you; and with speed so pace
To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace

Equal with wond’ring. What of her ensues [25]
I list not prophesy; but let Time’s news
Be known when ’tis brought forth. A shepherd’s daughter,