THE WINTER’S TALE

LEONTES, King of Sicilia
MAMILLIUS, his son
CAMILLO, Sicilian Lord
ANTIGONUS, Sicilian Lord
CLEOMENES, Sicilian Lord
DION, Sicilian Lord
POLIXENES, King of Bohemia
FLORIZEL, his son
ARCHIDAMUS, a Bohemian Lord
An Old Shepherd, believed to be Perdita's father
CLOWN, his son
AUTOLYCUS, a con artist
A Mariner
A Guard
Servant to the Old Shepherd
Other Sicilian Lords
Sicilian Gentlemen
Officers of a Court of Justice

HERMIONE, Queen to Leontes
PERDITA, daughter of Leontes and Hermione
PAULINA, wife of Antigonus
EMILIA, a lady in the Queen's service
MOPSA, shepherdess
DORCAS, shepherdess
Other Ladies, in the Queen's service

Lords, ladies, and guests; satyrs for a dance; shepherds, shepherdesses, guards, etc.

TIME, as Chorus

Enter Camillo and Archidamus.

ARCHIDAMUS.
If you happen to visit Bohemia, Camillo, for the same reason I'm currently involved, you will see, as I mentioned, a significant difference between our Bohemia and your Sicilia.

CAMILLO.
I believe that this upcoming summer, the King of Sicilia plans to visit Bohemia to fulfill the obligation he rightfully owes him.

ARCHIDAMUS.
In what we’re doing, we’ll embarrass ourselves; we’ll have a good reason for our feelings. For indeed,—

CAMILLO.
I beg you—

ARCHIDAMUS.
Honestly, I say this from what I know. We can't manage such greatness—in something so unique—I don't even know how to put it into words. We'll offer you soothing drinks, so your senses, unaware of our shortcomings, may not praise us, but also won't blame us.

CAMILLO.
You’re paying way too much for something that’s offered for free.

ARCHIDAMUS.
Trust me, I’m speaking based on what I understand and what my honesty compels me to say.

CAMILLO.
Sicilia can't be too friendly with Bohemia. They grew up together, and back then they formed a bond that can only grow now. Since their responsibilities and royal duties pulled them apart, they've maintained their relationship through gifts, letters, and warm messages, making it seem like they were together, even when they weren't; it's like they shook hands across a distance and embraced from opposite ends of a spectrum. May the heavens keep their friendship strong!

ARCHIDAMUS.
I don't believe there's any malice or reason in the world that could change that. You have an incredible comfort in your young Prince Mamillius. He's a gentleman with the greatest potential I've ever come across.

CAMILLO.
I completely agree with you about him. He’s a wonderful kid; he really brings joy to everyone around him, rejuvenating old spirits. Those who needed help walking before he was born still wish to live long enough to see him grow up.

ARCHIDAMUS.
Would they be okay with dying otherwise?

CAMILLO.
Yes, if there weren't any other reason for them to want to live.

ARCHIDAMUS.
If the king didn’t have a son, they would want to manage on crutches until he had one.

[Exit.]

Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Hermione, Mamillius, Camillo and Attendants.

POLIXENES.
It’s been nine long cycles of the watery star
Since we left our throne without any responsibility.
If we spent another nine cycles like this,
We’d still have plenty of gratitude, brother;
And still, we would, for the sake of eternity,
Be leaving in debt: and so, like a cipher,
Even though I’m in a good position, I multiply
With one “thank you” many thousands more
That come before it.

LEONTES.
Hold off on your thanks for a moment,
And give them when you say goodbye.

POLIXENES.
Sir, that’s tomorrow.
I’m worried about what's going to happen
Or what could happen while we’re gone; that might stir
No chilly winds at home, making us say
“This is really happening.” Besides, I’ve stayed
To wear out your patience.

LEONTES.
We are stronger, brother,
Than you think we are.

POLIXENES.
Don't stay any longer.

LEONTES.
One week longer.

Totally true, tomorrow.

LEONTES.
We'll split the time between us then: and in that
I'll accept no disagreement.

POLIXENES.
Please don’t pressure me, I beg you,
No one in the world,
Can persuade me as quickly as you can: and it would be the same now,
Even if your request was urgent, though
It might be necessary for me to refuse it. My responsibilities
Are pulling me back home: to resist that
Would be painful for me because of your affection; staying here
Would be a burden and hassle to you: to spare us both,
Goodbye, our brother.

LEONTES.
Cat got your tongue, queen?

HERMIONE.
I thought, sir, I would stay quiet until
You made him promise not to stay. You, sir,
Are being too harsh with him. Tell him you’re sure
Everything in Bohemia is fine: this has been
Announced since the previous day. Say this to him,
He’s been defeated by his own best defense.

LEONTES.
Well said, Hermione.

HERMIONE.
It would be strong to say he longs to see his son.
But let him say it, and then let him go;
If he swears it, then he shouldn’t stay;
We’ll drive him away with distaffs.
[To Polixenes.] Yet I’ll take the chance of asking
For a week from your royal presence. When you’re in Bohemia,
You can take my lord, and I’ll give him my permission
To stay there a month longer than planned:
But honestly, Leontes,
I don’t love you even a little bit less than
Any lady loves her husband. Will you stay?

POLIXENES.
No, ma'am.

HERMIONE.
No, but you will?

I really can't.

HERMIONE.
Seriously!
You try to charm me with your smooth promises; but I,
Even if you want to move mountains with your oaths,
Still say, “No way, sir.” Seriously,
You are not leaving. A woman's “seriously” is
Just as strong as a man's. Are you still going?
If you make me keep you here as a prisoner,
Not just a guest, then you’ll have to pay your dues
When you leave, and forget about your thanks. What do you say?
My prisoner or my guest? With your solemn “seriously,”
You will be one of them.

POLIXENES.
So, I'm your guest, madam.
Being your prisoner would mean I'm doing something wrong;
And that's way harder for me to do
Than for you to punish me for it.

HERMIONE.
Not your jailer then,
But your friendly host. Come, I’ll ask you
About my lord’s antics and yours when you were kids.
You were quite the young lords back then.

POLIXENES.
We were, beautiful queen,
Two guys who believed there was nothing more ahead
Except for another day like today,
And to stay young forever.

HERMIONE.
Wasn’t my lord
The truer of the two?

POLIXENES.
We were like twin lambs playing in the sun
And bleating to each other. What we exchanged
Was innocence for innocence; we didn’t know
The concept of wrongdoing, nor did we dream
That anyone else did. If we had lived that life,
And our weak spirits had never been lifted
By stronger passions, we could have confidently told heaven
“Not guilty,” the burden clearly
Our hereditary right.

HERMIONE.
From this, we can tell
You’ve stumbled since then.

POLIXENES.
Oh my most sacred lady,
Since then, temptations have come our way! For
In those early days, my wife was still just a girl;
Your precious self hadn’t yet caught the attention
Of my young friend.

HERMIONE.
Not to mention the grace!
Don’t jump to conclusions, unless you want to say
That your queen and I are evil. But go ahead;
We’ll take responsibility for the wrongs we made you do,
If you first sinned with us, and if you continued to do wrong
Only with us.

LEONTES.
Has he been won yet?

HERMIONE.
He’ll stay, my lord.

LEONTES.
At my request, he wouldn’t.
Hermione, my dearest, you never spoke
More meaningfully.

HERMIONE.
Really?

LEONTES.
Only once.

HERMIONE.
What! have I said something good twice? When did that happen before?
Please tell me. Fill us up with compliments, and make us
As comfortable as domesticated animals: one kind act dying without praise
Outweighs a thousand that could follow it.
Our compliments are our rewards. You could win us over
With one gentle kiss from far away
More easily than if we try to push our way with force. But to the point:
My last kind act was asking him to stay.
What was my first? It has an older sister,
Or I misunderstand you: Oh, I wish her name was Grace!
But I spoke to the point once before—when was that?
No, let me have it; I’m eager.

LEONTES.
Why, that was when
Three difficult months had turned bitter,
Before I could get you to open your white hand
And declare yourself my love; then you said,
“I am yours forever.”

HERMIONE.
It's truly Grace.
Well, look at that, I've spoken directly twice.
One has earned a royal husband forever;
The other has been a friend for a while.

Giving her hand to Polixenes.

LEONTES.
[Aside.] It's too intense, too intense!
Mixing friendship is like mixing blood.
I feel a flutter in my heart. My heart is racing,
But not out of joy—it's not joy. This gathering
Can wear a friendly face, claim a sense of freedom
From warmth, from generosity, from a kind spirit,
And it may suit the one who hosts it: I admit that:
But to be shaking hands and pinching fingers,
Like they are now, and putting on practiced smiles
Like they’re looking in a mirror; and then to sigh, as if
The deer has died. Oh, that’s not the kind of gathering
My heart enjoys, nor my brows. Mamillius,
Are you my son?

MAMILLIUS.
Yeah, my good lord.

LEONTES.
Seriously!
Why, that’s my good fellow. What! Did you smudge your nose?
They say it looks just like mine. Come on, captain,
We need to be tidy; not just tidy, but really clean, captain:
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf
Are all called tidy.—Still playing around
On his palm?—What’s this, you cheeky calf!
Are you my calf?

MAMILLIUS.
Sure, if that's what you want, my lord.

LEONTES.
You want a rough face and the traits I have
To be just like me:—yet they say we are
Almost as similar as eggs; women say so,
Who will say anything. But if they were false
As overly dark colors, as the wind, as waters, false
As dice are wished for by someone who sets
No boundary between his and mine, it would be true
To say this boy is like me. Come, young page,
Look at me with your bright eyes: sweet villain!
My dearest! my little one! Can your mother?—is it possible?
Affection! your intention hits hard:
You make real things that aren’t believed,
Connect with dreams;—how can this be?—
With what’s unreal you act together,
And link with nothing: then it’s very believable
You might join with something; and you do,
And that without permission, and I see it,
And that infects my mind
And furrows my brow.

POLIXENES.
What does Sicilia mean?

HERMIONE.
He seems a bit off.

POLIXENES.
How's it going, my lord?
What's up? How are you, my brother?

HERMIONE.
You look
Like you have a lot on your mind:
Are you upset, my lord?

LEONTES.
No, seriously.
Sometimes nature reveals its foolishness,
Its softness, and makes itself a joke
To tougher hearts! Looking at the features
Of my boy’s face, I felt like I went back
Twenty-three years and saw myself without pants,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger tucked away
To prevent it from harming its owner, proving,
Just like decorations often do, too risky.
How much I resembled this kid,
This little guy, this gentleman. My honest friend,
Will you take eggs in exchange for money?

MAMILLIUS.
No, my lord, I will fight.

LEONTES.
You will? Well, happy for him! My brother,
Are you as fond of your young prince as we
Seem to be of ours?

POLIXENES.
If he's at home, sir,
He’s all my activity, my joy, my concern:
Now my sworn friend, and then my enemy;
My freeloader, my soldier, my statesman, all.
He makes a July day feel as short as December;
And with his ever-changing childishness, he heals in me
Thoughts that would make my blood run thick.

LEONTES.
So here’s this squire
Assigned to me. We two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your more serious matters. Hermione,
Show us how much you love us in our brother’s welcome;
Let what is precious in Sicily be easy to obtain:
Next to you and my young adventurer, he’s
Close to my heart.

HERMIONE.
If you want to find us,
We'll be in the garden. Should we meet you there?

LEONTES.
Do what you want: you’ll be discovered,
No matter where you are. [Aside.] I'm trying to catch something now,
Even though you don’t see how I’m playing my cards.
Come on, come on!
Look how she’s putting on the charm, flirting with him!
And she’s confident like a wife
In front of her approving husband!

[Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants exit.]

Gone already!
An inch thick, knee deep, over head and ears a forked one!—
Go on, play, boy, play. Your mother plays, and I
Play too; but it’s such a disgraceful role, whose outcome
Will shame me to my grave: contempt and noise
Will be my fate. Go on, play, boy, play. There have been,
Or I’m very much mistaken, cuckolds before now;
And many a man out there, even right now,
As I say this, is holding his wife by the arm,
Not realizing that she has fooled around in his absence,
And his pond has been fished by his next neighbor, by
Sir Smile, his neighbor. Still, there’s some comfort in it,
While other men have their doors open,
Just like mine, against their wishes. Should everyone despair
Who has wives that have strayed, a tenth of mankind
Would end it all. There’s no cure for it;
It’s a roguish world that will strike
Where it’s powerful; and it’s strong, believe me,
From east, west, north, and south. Let’s agree,
No barriers for a belly. Know this;
It will let in and out the enemy
With all their belongings. Many thousands of us
Have the disease, and don’t even feel it.—How’s it going, boy!

MAMILLIUS.
They say I'm just like you.

LEONTES.
Well, that's a bit of comfort.
Wait! Is that Camillo there?

CAMILLO.
Yes, my good lord.

LEONTES.
Go play, Mamillius; you’re a good kid.

[Exit Mamillius.]

Camillo, this great man will stay a bit longer.

CAMILLO.
You had a tough time keeping him anchored:
When you threw it out, it always came back.

LEONTES.
Did you notice that?

CAMILLO.
He wouldn't stay for your requests; made
His business more important.

LEONTES.
Did you notice it?
[Aside.] They’re already here with me, whispering, rounding,
“Sicilia is a so-and-so.” It’s been a long time
Since I’ve last enjoyed it. —How did it happen, Camillo,
That he stayed?

CAMILLO.
At the queen's request.

LEONTES.
At the queen’s behest: “good” should be relevant,
But it isn’t, is it? Was this understood
By anyone but you?
Your thoughts are so deep, they’ll pull in
More than the usual people. It’s not obvious, is it,
But about those with finer natures? Perhaps
Some extraordinary minds
Are blind to this matter? Tell me.

CAMILLO.
Business, my lord? I believe most people think
Bohemia will be here for a while.

LEONTES.
Huh?

CAMILLO.
Stays here longer.

LEONTES.
Yeah, but why?

CAMILLO.
To please your highness and the requests
Of our most gracious lady.

LEONTES.
Satisfy?
The requests of your mistress? Satisfy?
Let that be enough. I have trusted you, Camillo,
With everything closest to my heart, including
My private thoughts, where, like a priest, you’ve
Cleared my mind; I left you
A changed person because of you. But we have been
Fooled by your honesty, fooled
By what appears to be true.

CAMILLO.
Don't forbid it, my lord!

LEONTES.
To put up with this: you’re not honest; or,
If you lean that way, you’re a coward,
Hiding honesty behind, holding back
From what’s needed; or you must be seen
As a servant who’s been given my serious trust,
And in that, careless; or else a fool
Who sees a game played out, the big stakes drawn,
And takes it all as a joke.

CAMILLO.
My gracious lord,
I might be careless, foolish, and scared;
In each of these, no one is free,
But at some point, his carelessness, folly, or fear,
Comes to the surface amidst the countless actions in the world.
In your matters, my lord,
If I’ve ever been willfully negligent,
That was my foolishness; if I’ve acted foolishly
Out of diligence, that was my carelessness,
Not considering the outcome; if I’ve ever hesitated
To do something when I doubted the result,
Where the action itself demanded execution,
That was a fear
That often affects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are recognized weaknesses that honesty
Is never without. But, I beg you, my Grace,
Be straightforward with me; let me see my mistake
In its true form: if I then deny it,
It’s not mine.

LEONTES.
Haven't you seen it, Camillo?
(But that’s for sure: you have, or your eyesight
Is worse than a fool's) or heard?
(Because for something so obvious, gossip
Can't stay quiet) or thought? (because thought
Doesn’t exist in a person who doesn't think)
Is my wife unfaithful? If you’ll admit it,
Or else be shamelessly negative,
To have neither eyes nor ears nor thoughts, then say
My wife’s a disgrace, deserves a title
As bad as any common woman who sleeps around
Before her vows: say it and defend it.

CAMILLO.
I couldn't just stand by and hear
My queen talked about like that, without
Getting my revenge right away: damn my heart,
You never said something that suited you less
Than this; to repeat it would be a sin
As serious as that, even if it's true.

LEONTES.
Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is bumping noses?
Kissing with the inside of the lip? Stopping the flow
Of laughter with a sigh?—a sure sign
Of breaking trust?—foot on foot, like a horse?
Hiding in corners? Wishing clocks would move faster?
Hours, minutes? Noon, midnight? and all eyes
Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,
That would be wicked if unseen? Is this nothing?
Then the world and everything in it is nothing,
The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing,
My wife is nothing, nor do these nothings have anything,
If this is nothing.

CAMILLO.
My lord, get over
This unhealthy belief, and do it soon,
Because it’s very dangerous.

LEONTES.
Say it's true.

CAMILLO.
No, no, my lord.

LEONTES.
It is; you're lying, you're lying:
I say you're lying, Camillo, and I hate you,
I call you a clumsy fool, a mindless servant,
Or maybe just a fence-sitter who
Can see both good and evil with your eyes,
Leaning towards both. If my wife’s intentions
Were as tainted as her life, she wouldn’t survive
Even a single moment.

CAMILLO.
Who is infecting her?

LEONTES.
Why, he who wears her like a medal, hanging
Around his neck, Bohemia: if I
Had loyal servants around me, who cared
As much about my honor as their own interests,
Their own personal gains, they would do what
Would fix more issues: yes, and you,
His cupbearer—whom I from a lower position
Have promoted and raised to serve, who can see
As clearly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,
How troubled I am—you could give a drink,
To give my enemy a lasting sting;
That drink would be like a remedy to me.

CAMILLO.
Sir, my lord,
I could do this, and that without a reckless potion,
But with a slow-acting drink that wouldn’t act
Maliciously like poison. But I can’t
Believe this flaw to be in my beloved mistress,
So truly honorable.
I have loved you,—

LEONTES.
Make that your question, and go away!
Do you think I’m so confused, so unsettled,
That I would put myself in this mess; taint
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
(Which, to keep clean, means peace, but being stained
Is like having pricks, thorns, nettles, and wasp stings)
To bring shame to the blood of the prince, my son,
(Who I truly believe is mine, and I love as mine)
Without any good reason? Would I really do this?
Could a man be so cowardly?

CAMILLO.
I have to trust you, sir:
I do; and I'll get Bohemia for it;
As long as, once he’s gone, your highness
Will take your queen back as yours from the start,
Even for your son’s sake, and in doing so, seal
The damage done by gossip in courts and kingdoms
Connected to yours.

LEONTES.
You're advising me
Just like I’ve already decided:
I won’t tarnish her honor, not at all.

CAMILLO.
My lord,
Go ahead; and with a face as cheerful
As friendship shows at celebrations, stay with Bohemia
And your queen. I’m his cupbearer.
If he gets a good drink from me,
Don’t consider me your servant.

LEONTES.
That's it:
Do it, and you have half of my heart;
Don't, and you break your own.

CAMILLO.
I'll do it, my lord.

LEONTES.
I'll act friendly, just as you suggested.

[Leave.]

CAMILLO.
Oh, miserable lady! But what about me?
What am I supposed to do? I have to be the one who poisons
Good Polixenes, and my reason for doing it
Is out of obedience to a master; someone
Who, in his own rebellion, wants
Everyone around him to rebel too. If I could find an example
Of thousands who’ve attacked anointed kings
And thrived afterwards, I wouldn’t do it. But since
Neither brass, nor stone, nor parchment has a single one,
Let evil itself swear off this idea. I must
Leave the court: whether to do it or not is clearly
A death sentence for me. May the stars be in my favor now!
Here comes Bohemia.

Enter Polixenes.

POLIXENES.
This is odd. I think
My mood here is starting to change. Not speaking?
Good day, Camillo.

CAMILLO.
Hello, your majesty!

POLIXENES.
What's the latest in the court?

CAMILLO.
Nothing special, my lord.

POLIXENES.
The king looks like he just lost a province, a place
He cares about as much as he cares about himself. Just now I ran into him
With the usual pleasantries, but he,
Casting his eyes elsewhere and wearing
A look of deep disdain, hurried away from me, and
Now I'm left wondering what’s going on
That’s causing him to act this way.

CAMILLO.
I can't say, my lord.

POLIXENES.
Why don’t you? Don’t you? Do you know and still won’t say?
Can you be honest with me? It’s around there;
Because, for yourself, what you know you have to,
And you can’t say you don’t have the courage. Good Camillo,
Your changed expressions are a reflection to me
That shows me my own changes too; because I have to be
Part of this change, realizing
That I’m also changed with it.

CAMILLO.
There’s an illness
That puts some of us in a bad mood, but
I can’t quite identify the sickness, and it’s caught
From you who are still fine.

POLIXENES.
Why do you look at me like that?
Don’t make me seem like a monster.
I’ve seen thousands who have done better
Because of my attention, but I haven’t harmed anyone like this. Camillo,—
As you are definitely a gentleman, wise and experienced,
Which adds as much to our status as our parents’ noble names,
In whose success we find our own worth,—I ask you,
If you know anything that I should be aware of,
Please don’t keep it hidden from me.

CAMILLO.
I might not respond.

POLIXENES.
I'm feeling unwell, and yet I seem fine?
I need an explanation. Do you hear me, Camillo?
I ask you, by all the qualities of humanity
That honor recognizes, of which the least
Is not this request of mine, that you tell me
What harm you think might be coming my way;
How far away it is, how close it is;
How I can avoid it, if there's a way;
If not, how I can handle it best.

CAMILLO.
Sir, I’ll tell you;
Since I’m bound by honor, and by someone
I respect. So pay attention to my advice,
Which must be followed just as quickly as
I intend to say it, or both you and I
Will be in trouble, and that’s a wrap!

Come on, good Camillo.

CAMILLO.
I was ordered to kill you.

POLIXENES.
Who by, Camillo?

CAMILLO.
By the king.

For what?

CAMILLO.
He believes, and with complete confidence he assures,
As if he had seen it or been a part
In leading you to it, that you have wrongfully approached his queen.

POLIXENES.
Oh, then let my blood turn
Into an infected jelly, and let my name
Be linked with his who betrayed the Best!
Then let my purest reputation become
An odor that can offend the dullest nose
Wherever I go, and let people avoid me,
Even hate me, worse than the greatest infection
That has ever been heard or read!

CAMILLO.
Swear to his thoughts
By every single star in the sky and
By all their influences; you might as well
Try to stop the sea from obeying the moon
As to use an oath or advice to change
The structure of his foolishness, which is built
On his faith and will keep
Him grounded.

POLIXENES.
How is this supposed to grow?

CAMILLO.
I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s safer to
Avoid what’s grown than to question how it started.
So if you dare trust my honesty,
Which is kept in this trunk that you
Will take with you tonight as collateral,
I’ll quietly inform your followers of the plan,
And will lead them out of the city,
Pairing them off at different gates.
As for me, I’ll dedicate my resources to your cause,
Which I’ve now put at risk with this revelation.
Don’t hesitate, because by my parents' honor,
I’ve spoken the truth: and if you seek to verify it,
I wouldn’t want to stand by; nor will you be safer
Than someone condemned by the king himself,
Sworn to carry out the execution.

POLIXENES.
I truly believe you.
I saw his heart in his face. Give me your hand,
Be my guide, and your places will
Always be close to mine. My ships are ready, and
My people were expecting me to leave
Two days ago. This jealousy
Is for someone precious: since she’s rare,
It must be intense; and, since his person is strong,
It must be violent; and as he thinks
He’s dishonored by a man who has always
Declared loyalty to him, then, his revenge must
Definitely be more bitter. Fear is overshadowing me.
May good luck be my ally, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his story, but nothing
Of his unfair suspicion! Come, Camillo,
I will treat you like a father if
You help me escape from here. Let’s get away.

CAMILLO.
I have the authority to command
The keys to all the gates: if you’d like, your highness,
We can take advantage of this urgent time. Come on, sir, let’s go.

[Exit.]

Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies.

HERMIONE.
Bring the boy to you: he annoys me so much,
I can't take it anymore.

FIRST LADY.
Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your companion?

MAMILLIUS.
No, I don't want any of you.

FIRST LADY.
Why, my dear lord?

MAMILLIUS.
You’re going to kiss me hard and talk to me like I’m still a baby. I love you more.

SECOND LADY.
And why is that, my lord?

MAMILLIUS.
Not just because
Your eyebrows are darker; yet they say dark brows
Look best on some women, as long as there's not
Too much hair there, but shaped like a semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.

SECOND LADY.
Who taught this?

MAMILLIUS.
I figured it out from women's faces. So, tell me,
What color are your eyebrows?

FIRST LADY.
Blue, my lord.

MAMILLIUS.
No way, that's a joke. I've seen a woman's nose
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

FIRST LADY.
Listen up,
Your mother, the queen, is coming quickly. We will
Offer our services to a wonderful new prince
Soon, and then you would have fun with us,
If we wanted you to.

SECOND LADY.
She's recently put on some weight.
I hope to run into her soon!

HERMIONE.
What wisdom is stirring among you? Come on, sir, now
I’m here for you again. Please sit with us,
And tell us a story.

MAMILLIUS.
Will it be merry or sad?

HERMIONE.
As happy as you want.

MAMILLIUS.
A sad story is perfect for winter. I have one
About spirits and goblins.

HERMIONE.
Let’s have that, good sir.
Come on, sit down. Go ahead and try your best
To scare me with your ghosts: you’re really good at it.

MAMILLIUS.
There was a guy,—

HERMIONE.
No, come sit down.

MAMILLIUS.
Lived near a graveyard. I'll say it quietly,
So those crickets won't hear it.

HERMIONE.
Come on then,
And tell me in my ear.

Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords and Guards.

LEONTES.
Was he there? Was his entourage with him? Was Camillo there too?

FIRST LORD.
Behind the cluster of pines, I ran into them. I’ve never seen men move so quickly on their way; I watched them all the way to their ships.

LEONTES.
How blessed am I
In my fair judgment, in my honest opinion!
Oh, if only I knew less! How cursed
To be so blessed! There might be a spider
In the cup, and someone might drink, leave,
And yet not get poisoned, because their mind
Is not tainted; but if someone shows
The horrible thing to their eye, reveals
What they've drunk, they gag, their sides
With violent heaves. I have drunk and seen the spider.
Camillo helped him with this, his accomplice.
There’s a plot against my life, my crown;
Everything suspected is true. That false scoundrel
I hired was already working for him.
He has uncovered my plan, and I
Am left in a vulnerable position; yes, a mere pawn
For them to toy with as they wish. How did the side doors
Open so easily?

FIRST LORD.
By his strong authority,
Which has often been just as influential as your command.

LEONTES.
I know it all too well.
Give me the boy. I'm glad you didn’t raise him.
Even though he shows some traits of mine, you
Have too much of your blood in him.

HERMIONE.
What is this? a sport?

LEONTES.
Take the boy away; he shouldn't be around her.
Get him out of here, and let her enjoy what she has going on; for it’s Polixenes
Who has made you feel this way.

[Exit Mamillius with a few Guards.]

HERMIONE.
But I’d say he didn’t,
And I bet you would believe what I’m saying,
No matter how you find out the truth.

LEONTES.
You all, my lords,
Look at her, pay attention. Just say, “she is a beautiful lady,” and
Your hearts will quickly add, “it’s a shame she's not honest or honorable.”
Praise just her outward appearance,
Which I swear deserves high praise, and then
You’ll see the shoulder shrug, the hum or ha, those small marks
That slander uses—Oh, I’m done,
With mercy; because slander will tarnish
Virtue itself—these shrugs, these hums, and ha’s,
When you’ve said “she’s beautiful,” step in,
Before you can say “she’s honest”: but let it be known,
From the one who has the most reason to be upset, it needs to be said,
She’s an adulteress!

HERMIONE.
If a villain claims that,
The most well-stocked villain in the world,
He would be even more of a villain: you, my lord,
Just misunderstand.

LEONTES.
You’ve made a mistake, my lady,
Confusing Polixenes with Leontes. Oh, you thing,
I won’t call you a creature of your kind,
For fear that barbarism, using me as an example,
Might make the same accusation against everyone,
And proper respect get lost,
Blurring the line between prince and beggar. I have said
She’s an adulteress; I’ve said with whom:
Moreover, she’s a traitor, and Camillo is
In league with her; and he knows
What she should be ashamed to know herself,
Except with her most despicable partner, that she’s
A cheater, just as bad as those
Whom the common people give the worst names; yes, and complicit
In their recent escape.

HERMIONE.
No, seriously,
I wasn't aware of any of this. How will this hurt you,
When you find out the truth and see that
You've exposed me like this! My dear lord,
You can hardly say you misunderstood me.

LEONTES.
No. If I'm wrong
About the foundations I'm building on,
The center isn't strong enough to hold
A schoolboy's top. Take her away to prison!
Anyone who speaks for her is guilty as well,
Just by speaking.

HERMIONE.
Some bad luck seems to be in control:
I have to be patient until the stars align
In a more positive way. Please, my lords,
I’m not someone who easily cries, like women
Often do; the lack of those useless tears
Might, perhaps, dry your sympathy. But I have
This deep, honorable sorrow inside me that burns
Worse than drowning in tears: I urge you all, my lords,
With the kind thoughts that your compassion
Will best guide you, to judge me; and so
The king’s wishes will be fulfilled.

LEONTES.
Can I be heard?

HERMIONE.
Who’s coming with me? Please, your highness,
Let my ladies be with me, because you see
My situation calls for it. Don’t cry, dear fools;
There’s no reason: when you find out your mistress
Deserves to be in prison, then feel free to weep
As I come out: this action I’m taking
Is to improve my reputation. Goodbye, my lord:
I never wanted to see you upset; now
I hope I will. Ladies, come; you’re allowed to join me.

LEONTES.
Go, do what we say.

[Exit Queen and Ladies with Guards.]

FIRST LORD.
Please, your highness, summon the queen again.

ANTIGONUS.
Make sure of your actions, sir, so your sense of justice
Doesn't turn into violence, which could cause suffering for three great individuals:
Yourself, your queen, your son.

FIRST LORD.
For her, my lord,
I’m willing to risk my life for her, and I will, sir,
If you would accept it—that the queen is innocent
In the eyes of heaven and to you—I mean
In this matter you accuse her of.

ANTIGONUS.
If it turns out
She's not what I think, I'll keep my horses where
I keep my wife; I'll take her everywhere with me;
Because if I can’t feel or see her, I can’t trust her anymore.
For every bit of a woman in the world,
Yes, every ounce of a woman's flesh, is deceitful,
If she is.

LEONTES.
Hold your peace.

FIRST LORD.
Good my lord,—

ANTIGONUS.
We’re speaking for you, not for ourselves:
You’re being taken advantage of by some manipulator
Who will be damned for it: if I knew the villain,
I would make him pay. If she has any dishonor,
I have three daughters; the oldest is eleven;
The second and the third are nine and about five;
If this turns out to be true, they’ll make him pay. By my honor,
I’ll make sure none of them have children; they will not see fourteen,
To avoid bringing in false heirs: they are co-heirs,
And I’d rather harm myself than let them
Fail to produce legitimate offspring.

LEONTES.
Stop; that's enough.
You sense this situation with a chill
Like a dead man's nose: but I see it and feel it,
Just as you feel when you do this; and I also see
The tools that sense it.

ANTIGONUS.
If that's the case,
We don’t need a grave for honesty.
There isn’t a bit of it to make the whole filthy earth sweet.

LEONTES.
What! Don't I have credit?

FIRST LORD.
I’d rather you be without her than me, my lord,
For this reason: it would please me more
To have her honor intact than to deal with your doubts,
No matter how you might blame me for it.

LEONTES.
Why do we need to discuss this with you? Instead, we should act on our strong urge. Our authority doesn’t require your advice; it’s our natural goodness that drives us to speak. If you can’t or won’t appreciate the truth, like us, then educate yourselves. We don’t need any more of your advice: the matter, the loss, the gain, and how to manage it all belongs to us.

ANTIGONUS.
And I wish, my king,
You had just silently considered it,
Without any further discussion.

LEONTES.
How can that be?
Either you’re really ignorant because of your age,
Or you were born a fool. Camillo’s escape,
Along with their closeness,
(Which was as obvious as anything that needs no proof,
Just lacking sight, nothing for approval
But only observation, with all other factors
Adding up to the action) pushes this situation forward.
Yet, for more confirmation
(Because in something this serious, it would be
Tragic to be rash), I’ve sent messages
To sacred Delphi, to Apollo’s temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Have the right qualifications: now from the oracle
They will bring everything that, through spiritual guidance,
Could either hold me back or drive me on. Have I done well?

Nice job, my lord.

LEONTES.
Even though I'm content and don't need anything more
Than what I already know, the oracle
Will ease the minds of others, like him
Whose blind belief can't grasp the truth. So we thought it best
To confine her, from our own free will,
So that the betrayal of the two who escaped
Isn't left for her to carry out. Come, follow us;
We need to speak in public; this situation
Will uplift us all.

ANTIGONUS.
[Aside.] People laugh, I guess,
If the real truth were understood.

[Exit.]

Enter Paulina, a Gentleman and attendants.

PAULINA.
Call the prison guard for him;
Let him know who I am.

[Leave the Gentleman.]

Good lady!
No court in Europe is too good for you;
So why are you in prison?

Enter Gentleman with the Jailer.

Now, good sir,
You know me, right?

GAOLER.
For a deserving woman
And someone I respect greatly.

PAULINA.
Please, lead me to the queen.

GAOLER.
I can't, ma'am.
On the contrary, I have clear orders.

PAULINA.
What a mess, keeping honesty and honor away from
the access of nice visitors! Is it okay, can you tell me,
to see her women? Any of them? Emilia?

GAOLER.
If you don't mind, ma'am,
Please send away your attendants; I
Will bring Emilia out.

PAULINA.
I ask you now, please call her.
Everyone else, step aside.

[Gentleman and Attendants exit.]

GAOLER.
And, ma'am,
I need to be there for your meeting.

PAULINA.
Well, if that's the case.

[Exit Jailer.]

Here’s such a fuss to avoid a blemish
As something that just fades away.

Re-enter Gaoler with Emilia.

Dear lady,
How is our gracious lady doing?

EMILIA.
As well as someone so great and so lonely
Can hold it together: in her fears and sorrows,
(Which no gentlewoman has ever endured more)
She is, somewhat ahead of her time, delivered.

PAULINA.
A guy?

EMILIA.
A daughter; and a beautiful baby,
Strong, and likely to thrive: the queen finds
A lot of comfort in it; she says, “My poor prisoner,
I’m as innocent as you are.”

PAULINA.
I swear I will.
These dangerous, unstable moods in the king, curse them!
He needs to be informed, and he will be: it's best for a woman to handle
this. I’ll take it upon myself.
If I turn out to be sweet-tongued, let my tongue burn,
and let my anger never again be the trump card. Please, Emilia,
send my best regards to the queen.
If she trusts me with her little baby,
I’ll show it to the king, and I promise to be
her loudest supporter. We don’t know
how he might soften at the sight of the child:
the silence of pure innocence
often persuades when words fail.

EMILIA.
Most honorable lady,
Your respect and kindness are so clear,
That your bold initiative is sure to succeed: there’s no woman alive
Better suited for this important task. If it pleases your ladyship
To step into the next room, I’ll quickly
Inform the queen of your generous offer,
Who just today was discussing this plan,
But didn’t dare approach a minister of honor,
For fear of being refused.

PAULINA.
Tell her, Emilia,
I’ll use the voice I have: if wit flows from it
Like boldness from my heart, let there be no doubt
I will do well.

EMILIA.
Now may you be blessed for it!
I’ll go to the queen: would you please come a bit closer?

GAOLER.
Ma'am, if the queen could send the baby,
I’m not sure what I’ll have to go through to get it,
Since I have no authorization.

PAULINA.
You don’t need to be worried about it, sir:
This child was trapped in the womb, and is,
By the law and the process of nature,
Freed and granted freedom: not involved in
The king’s anger, nor guilty of,
If there is any, the queen’s wrongdoing.

JAILER.
I really believe it.

PAULINA.
Don't worry: I promise, I
Will stand between you and danger.

[Exit.]

Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and other Attendants.

LEONTES.
Neither night nor day can I find any rest: it’s just weakness
to handle things this way, pure weakness. If
the cause didn’t exist—part of it is
that she’s the adulteress; the deceitful king
is completely outside my reach, beyond the scope
and understanding of my mind, untouchable. But she
I could bring to me. If she were gone,
cast into the flames, a part of my peace
might return to me. Who’s there?

First Attendant.
My lord.

LEONTES.
How's the boy?

FIRST ATTENDANT.
He got some good rest last night;
It’s hoped his illness is over.

LEONTES.
To witness his greatness,
Realizing the disgrace of his mother.
He immediately fell, became dejected, took it hard,
Clung to the shame within himself,
Gave up his spirit, his desire, his rest,
And completely withered away. Leave me alone: go,
See how he’s doing.

[Exit First Attendant.]

Ugh, no way! No thinking about him.
Just the idea of getting revenge like that
Turns back on me: he’s too powerful,
And so are his allies. Let him be,
Until the right moment comes. For now, I’ll get revenge
On her. Camillo and Polixenes
Are laughing at me; they’re making fun of my pain:
They wouldn’t laugh if I could get to them, and nor
Will she, as long as I have the chance.

Enter Paulina holding a baby, with Antigonus, nobles and attendants.

FIRST LORD.
You can't go in.

PAULINA.
No, rather, my good lords, support me:
Do you fear his cruel rage more, really,
Than the queen’s life? She’s a kind, innocent person,
More unburdened than he is insecure.

ANTIGONUS.
That's enough.

SERVANT.
Ma'am, he hasn't slept at all tonight; he ordered
that no one should see him.

PAULINA.
Not so fast, good sir;
I’m here to help him sleep. It’s people like you,
Who creep around him and sigh
At each of his restless movements—people like you
Keep him from waking up. I
Come with words as healing as they are genuine,
Sincere as either, to rid him of that anxiety
That’s keeping him from sleeping.

LEONTES.
What's that noise?

PAULINA.
No noise, my lord; but an important talk
About some gossip for your highness.

LEONTES.
What!
Get that bold woman away from me! Antigonus,
I told you not to let her come near me.
I knew she would.

ANTIGONUS.
I warned her, my lord,
At the risk of your anger and mine,
She shouldn't come to see you.

LEONTES.
What, can't you control her?

PAULINA.
He’s capable of any dishonesty. In this,
Unless he takes the path you have chosen,
Accuse me of upholding honor—believe it,
He will not control me.

ANTIGONUS.
Look, you hear.
When she takes the reins, I let her go;
But she won’t stumble.

PAULINA.
Good my lord, I’m here,—
And I ask you to listen to me. I’m
Your loyal servant, your doctor,
Your most obedient advisor, yet I’m not
As bold as others who seem to help you
With your troubles—I say I come
From your good queen.

LEONTES.
Great queen!

PAULINA.
Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say, good queen,
And if I were a man, I'd fight to make her good, even if I was the worst of all.

LEONTES.
Get her out of here.

PAULINA.
Whoever thinks lightly of what they see
Should give it to me first: on my own will, I’ll leave;
But first I need to do my job. The good queen,
(Since she is good) has given you a daughter;
Here she is; I present her for your blessing.

Laying down the baby.

LEONTES.
Get out!
A witch of a woman! Take her out the door:
A scheming pimp!

PAULINA.
Not at all.
I’m just as clueless about that as you
Are in calling me that; and I’m no less honest
Than you are crazy; which is, I assure you,
Good enough, in this world, to be considered honest.

LEONTES.
Traitors!
Will you not push her out? [To Antigonus.] Give her the kid,
You fool! You’re worn out by your wife here. Pick up the kid,
Pick it up, I say; give it to your old lady.

PAULINA.
Forever
May your hands be unworthy if you
Lift the princess by that forced disgrace
That he has placed upon it!

LEONTES.
He's afraid of his wife.

PAULINA.
I wish you would; then it would be beyond any doubt
You’d really consider your children to be yours.

A den of traitors!

ANTIGONUS.
I’m nobody, I promise.

PAULINA.
Not me; nor anyone
Except for the one that’s here, and that’s him. Because he
Is betraying the sacred honor of himself, his queen’s,
His hopeful son’s, and his baby’s to slander,
Whose sting is sharper than a sword; and he won’t,
(For, given how things are right now, it’s a curse
He can’t be forced to do it) ever remove
The root of his opinion, which is as rotten
As any oak or stone was sound.

LEONTES.
A shameless woman
With a lot to say, who recently hurt her husband,
And now taunts me! This child isn't mine;
It's the result of Polixenes.
Take it away, and along with the mother,
Throw them both into the fire.

PAULINA.
It’s yours;
And if we can apply the old saying to you,
It’s even worse because it’s so much like you. Look, my lords,
Even though it's a small print, the whole thing
And image of the father: eye, nose, lip,
The way he frowns, his forehead; even the dip,
The cute dimples of his chin and cheek; his smiles;
The exact shape and structure of his hand, nail, finger:
And you, good goddess Nature, who have made it
So similar to the one who fathered it, if you have
Control over the mind too, among all colors
Make sure there’s no yellow in it, so that she doesn’t suspect, as he does,
That her children aren’t her husband’s!

LEONTES.
A disgusting witch!
And, scoundrel, you deserve to be hanged
For not making her shut her mouth.

ANTIGONUS.
Hang all the husbands
That can’t do that job, you’ll barely have
One subject left.

LEONTES.
Take her away again.

PAULINA.
A totally unworthy and unnatural lord
Can do no more.

LEONTES.
I'll have you burnt.

PAULINA.
I don't care.
It's the person who creates the fire,
Not the one who gets burned by it. I won't call you a tyrant;
But this cruel treatment of your queen,
With no more evidence than your own weak imagination, feels
Like tyranny, and will degrade you,
Yes, make you a scandal in the eyes of the world.

LEONTES.
By your loyalty,
Get her out of the room! If I were a tyrant,
Where would her life be? She wouldn't dare call me that,
If she truly knew me. Get her out of here!

PAULINA.
Please, don’t force me; I’m leaving.
Take care of your baby, my lord; she’s yours: may Jove send her
A better guiding spirit! What do these hands need?
You who are so protective of his mistakes,
Will never do him any good, not one of you.
Alright then. Goodbye; we’re leaving.

[Log out.]

LEONTES.
You, traitor, have turned your wife against me.
My child? Take it away. You, who have
Such a tender heart for it, get rid of it,
And see it burned right away;
You and no one else. Pick it up now:
Within this hour, tell me it’s done,
And with proof, or I’ll take your life,
Along with what you call your own. If you refuse
And want to face my anger, say so;
I’ll smash the brains of the bastard with my own hands.
Go, take it to the fire;
Because you turned your wife against me.

ANTIGONUS.
I didn’t, sir:
These lords, my noble friends, if they agree,
Can confirm that.

LORDS
We can: my royal liege,
He is not guilty of her coming here.

LEONTES.
You’re all liars.

FIRST LORD.
We beg you, your highness, to give us more trust:
We have always served you faithfully, and we ask
That you regard us as such. And on our knees we plead,
As a reward for our loyal service
In the past and in the future, that you change this plan,
Which is so dreadful, so violent, it must
Lead to some terrible outcome. We all kneel.

LEONTES.
I'm just a feather in every breeze that blows.
Should I really live to see this kid kneel
And call me dad? It’s better to burn it now
Than regret it later. But let it be; let it live.
It won’t be. [To Antigonus.] You there, come here,
You who have been so kindly helpful
To Lady Margery, your midwife, over there,
To save this kid's life—because it’s a kid,
As sure as this beard is gray. What are you willing
To risk to save this brat's life?

ANTIGONUS.
Anything, my lord,
That I can handle,
And that nobility demands: at least this much:
I’ll sacrifice the little blood I have left
To save the innocent. Anything is possible.

LEONTES.
It will be done. Swear on this sword
That you will do what I ask.

ANTIGONUS.
Sure thing, my lord.

LEONTES.
Listen and do it, do you see? Because messing up any part of this will not only mean your death but also your scandalous wife’s, whom we’re letting go this time. We order you, as our loyal subject, to take this illegitimate girl away and deliver her to some far-off, desolate place, completely out of our territories; and there you must leave her, without any mercy, to fend for herself and rely on the climate. Just as it came to us by unusual fate, I charge you, for the sake of your soul and to avoid suffering, to take her to a place where fortune might care for her or end her. Pick her up.

ANTIGONUS.
I promise to do this, even though dying now
Would be kinder. Come on, little one:
May some strong spirit guide the vultures and crows
To take care of you! They say that even wolves and bears,
Setting aside their wildness, have shown
Acts of kindness. Sir, may you succeed
In more than what this task needs! And may you be blessed
In this fight against cruelty, little one, doomed to loss!

Leave with the child.

LEONTES.
No, I won't raise
Another's child.

Enter a Servant.

SERVANT.
Your highness, the messages
From those you sent to the oracle have arrived
An hour ago: Cleomenes and Dion,
Having safely returned from Delphi, are both here,
Rushing to the court.

FIRST LORD.
If it pleases you, sir, their speed
Has been incredible.

LEONTES.
Twenty-three days
They’ve been gone: it’s a good sign; it indicates
That the great Apollo will soon reveal
The truth of this. Get ready, lords;
Call a meeting, so we can charge
Our most disloyal lady; for, since she’s been
Publicly accused, she will have
A fair and open trial. As long as she’s alive,
My heart will be heavy. Leave me,
And consider what I’ve asked.

[Exit.]

Enter Cleomenes and Dion.

CLEOMENES
The climate’s gentle; the air is really nice,
The island is rich, and the temple is way better
Than the usual praise it gets.

DION.
I will share my thoughts,
Because for many, I was captivated by the heavenly ways
(I think that's the right term) and the respect
Of those who are serious. Oh, the sacrifice!
How formal, serious, and otherworldly,
It was in the offering!

CLEOMENES
But above all, the sudden outburst
And the deafening voice of the oracle,
Similar to Jove’s thunder, shocked me so much
That I felt like nothing.

DION.
If the journey turns out to be as successful for the queen—Oh, let it be!—
As it has been for us, rare, enjoyable, and fast,
Then the time spent on it is worth it.

CLEOMENES
Great Apollo
Let’s hope everything turns out for the best! These announcements,
That unfairly blame Hermione,
I don't appreciate at all.

DION.
The intense way it’s being handled
Will clarify or finish the matter: when the oracle,
(Thus confirmed by Apollo’s great divine seal)
Reveals the contents, something extraordinary
Will still come to light. Let’s go. Get fresh horses!
And may the outcome be favorable!

[Leave the stage.]

Enter Leontes, Lords and Officers appear, properly seated.

LEONTES.
This session (which we sadly announce)
Weighs heavily on our hearts: the case at hand
Involves the daughter of a king, our wife, and one
Of us too dearly loved. Let’s ensure we’re not seen
As tyrants, since we’re moving forward openly
In seeking justice, which will follow its proper path,
Whether to guilt or to absolution.
Bring in the prisoner.

OFFICER.
His Highness wants the queen
to appear in person here in court. Silence!

Hermione Granger is brought in with caution; Paulina and the ladies are present.

LEONTES.
Read the charges.

OFFICER.
[Reads.] “Hermione, queen to the honorable Leontes, king of Sicilia, you are here accused of high treason for committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia; and for conspiring with Camillo to take the life of our sovereign lord, the king, your royal husband. The evidence for this, partially revealed by circumstances, shows that you, Hermione, contrary to the faith and loyalty of a true subject, advised and assisted them, for their own safety, to escape by night.”

HERMIONE.
Since what I’m about to say will only contradict my accusation, and
The only testimony I have is my own, it won’t really help me
To say “Not guilty.” My integrity,
Being seen as false, will be received as such. But if divine powers
Are watching our actions, as they do,
I have no doubt that innocence will make
False accusations blush, and tyranny
Will tremble at patience. You, my lord, know best,
Even if you pretend otherwise, that my past life
Has been as self-controlled, as pure, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can record, even when staged
And performed to entertain an audience. For here I stand,
A woman of the royal bed, who owes
A share of the throne, a great king’s daughter,
The mother of a hopeful prince, standing here
To speak for my life and honor before
All who care to listen. I value my life
As I do my grief, which I wish to avoid. As for honor,
It’s something I pass down to my heirs,
And that’s all I stand for. I appeal
To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your favor,
How I deserved to be treated that way; since he arrived,
Whatever trouble I’ve faced to appear this way: if I’ve gone
One bit beyond what is honorable, whether in action or intent,
May the hearts of all who hear me harden, and my closest kin
Cry shame upon my grave!

LEONTES.
I've never heard
That any of these bold vices had
Less nerve to deny what they did
Than to actually do it first.

HERMIONE.
That’s true enough;
Although it’s a saying, sir, not made by me.

LEONTES.
You won't own it.

HERMIONE.
More than the owner of
What I’m accused of, I absolutely must not
Acknowledge at all. For Polixenes,
I admit that I loved him as honor required,
With a kind of love that suits
A lady like me; a love just like this,
So and no other, as you asked:
Not to have done so, I think, would have shown
Both disobedience and ingratitude
To you and to your friend, whose love has expressed,
Ever since it could speak, from a child, openly,
That it was yours. Now, regarding the conspiracy,
I don’t know how it feels, even though it’s served
For me to sample: all I know about it
Is that Camillo was an honest man;
And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
Knowing no more than I, are clueless.

LEONTES.
You knew he was leaving, just as you know
What you agreed to do while he’s gone.

HERMIONE.
Sir,
You speak in a way I don't understand:
My life is on the same plane as your dreams,
Which I'm willing to give up.

LEONTES.
Your actions are my nightmares.
You had a child with Polixenes,
And I just dreamt it. Since you’ve lost all shame
(Those like you certainly have) you’ve also lost all truth,
Which denying only makes things worse; because
Your kid has been discarded, just like itself,
With no father claiming it (which is, really,
More wrong in you than it is), so you
Will face our justice; in this easy process,
Don’t expect anything less than death.

HERMIONE.
Sir, save your threats:
The fears you want to scare me with, I’m actually seeking.
Life means nothing to me.
The crown and comfort of my life is your favor,
I feel like it’s lost because I sense it’s gone,
But I don’t know how it disappeared. My second joy,
And the first fruits of my body, I’m kept away from
Like someone contagious. My third comfort,
Starred most unfortunately, is taken from my heart,
(The innocent milk from its purest mouth)
Pulled out to be killed; I am branded on every post
As a whore; with shameless hatred
The privilege of childbirth denied, which belongs
To all women; finally, rushed
Here to this place, in the open air, before
I have the strength to stand. Now, my king,
Tell me what blessings I have in this life,
That I should be afraid to die. So go ahead.
But hear me out: don’t misunderstand me: no life,
I don’t value it at all, except for my honor,
Which I would protect, if I am condemned
Based on assumptions, with all proof lying still
Except what your doubts awaken. I tell you
It’s harshness, not justice. Your honors all,
I turn to the oracle:
Apollo, be my judge!

FIRST LORD.
Your request
Is completely fair: so bring it forward,
And in Apollo’s name, his oracle:

[Officers exit.]

HERMIONE.
The Emperor of Russia was my dad.
I wish he were alive and here watching
His daughter's trial! If only he could see
The depth of my misery; but with eyes
Of compassion, not vengeance!

Enter Officers with Cleomenes and Dion.

OFFICER.
You will swear on this sword of justice,
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
Both been to Delphi and brought back
This sealed oracle, delivered by the hand
Of the great Apollo’s priest; and that since then
You have not dared to break the holy seal,
Nor read the secrets inside it.

CLEOMENES, DION.
We swear to all this.

LEONTES.
Open the seals and read.

OFFICER.
[Reads.] “Hermione is pure; Polixenes is innocent; Camillo is a loyal subject; Leontes is a jealous tyrant; his innocent child is truly his; and the king will live without an heir if what is lost isn't found.”

LORDS
Now let's give thanks to the great Apollo!

HERMIONE.
Awesome!

LEONTES.
Have you read the truth?

OFFICER.
Yes, my lord, that’s exactly how it is written here.

LEONTES.
There’s no truth in the oracle at all:
The sessions will go on: this is just a lie.

Enter a Servant quickly.

SERVANT.
My lord, the king, the king!

LEONTES.
What's the matter?

SERVANT.
Oh sir, I hate to bring you this news.
Your son, the prince, has left out of arrogance and fear
Of the queen’s quickness.

LEONTES.
What! Gone?

SERVANT.
Is deceased.

LEONTES.
Apollo is angry, and the heavens themselves
Are punishing me for my wrongdoing.

[Hermione passes out.]

What's up there?

PAULINA.
This news is deadly for the queen. Look down
And see what death is doing.

LEONTES.
Take her away:
Her heart is just overwhelmed; she will get better.
I have trusted my own suspicion too much.
I kindly ask you to give her
Some treatments to help her live.

[Paulina and the Ladies exit with Hermione.]

Apollo, please forgive
My serious disrespect towards your oracle!
I’ll make amends with Polixenes,
Rekindle my romance with my queen, recall the good Camillo,
Whom I declare a man of truth and mercy;
For, driven by my jealousy
To violent thoughts and revenge, I chose
Camillo to carry out the plan to poison
My friend Polixenes: which would have happened,
If not for Camillo’s good heart delaying
My urgent command, even though I threatened him with death and
Rewards to encourage him,
He didn’t go through with it, and wasn’t harmed. He, being noble
And full of honor, revealed my scheme to my royal guest,
Gave up his own fortune, which you know was considerable,
And risked everything uncertain
For nothing more than his honor. How he shines
Through my dullness! And how his integrity
Makes my actions seem even worse!

Enter Paulina.

PAULINA.
Oh, what a tragedy!
O, cut my lace, or my heart will break
from the strain!

FIRST LORD.
What is going on, good lady?

PAULINA.
What tortures have you planned for me, tyrant?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying or boiling
In lead or oil? What old or new torture
Must I endure, when every word I say deserves
To experience your worst? Your tyranny,
Along with your jealousies,
Are fantasies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For nine-year-old girls. Oh, think about what they've done,
And then truly lose your mind, go stark mad! For all
Your past foolishness was just a taste of it.
That you betrayed Polixenes meant nothing;
That only showed you were a foolish,
Inconstant, and damnably ungrateful person; nor was it much
That you would poison good Camillo’s honor,
To have him kill a king; minor offenses,
More monstrous ones stand out: the worst being
Casting out your baby daughter to the crows,
To be either nothing or very little, though a devil
Would have shed tears of fire before doing that,
Nor is it directly attributed to you that the young prince’s death,
Whose noble thoughts,
So high for someone so young, cleaved the heart
That could tolerate a gross and foolish father
Blemishing his gracious mother: this is not, no,
Attributable to you: but the last—Oh lords,
When I have said it, cry Woe!—the queen, the queen,
The sweetest, dearest creature is dead, and the vengeance for it
Has not come yet.

FIRST LORD.
The higher powers say no!

PAULINA.
I say she’s dead: I’ll swear it. If words or oaths
Don’t convince you, go see for yourself: if you can bring
Any color or shine to her lips or eyes,
Or warmth to her body or breath to her lungs, I’ll serve you
As I would serve the gods. But, oh you tyrant!
Don’t regret these actions, because they weigh heavier
Than all your sorrows combined. So, just embrace
Despair. A thousand knees
For ten thousand years together, naked and fasting,
On a barren mountain, with winter
In perpetual storm, couldn’t make the gods
Look your way.

LEONTES.
Keep going, keep going:
You can't say too much; I deserve
All tongues to speak their harshest.

FIRST LORD.
Don't say anything more:
No matter how things turn out, you've messed up
With how boldly you've spoken.

PAULINA.
I'm sorry for that:
All the mistakes I make, when I realize them,
I truly regret. Alas, I've shown too much
The impulsiveness of a woman: he is affected
To the noble heart. What’s done and what’s beyond help,
Should be beyond grief. Please don’t take on my suffering
At my request; I ask you, instead,
Let me be punished for reminding you
Of what you should forget. Now, dear my liege,
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
The love I had for your queen—there I go, foolish again!
I won’t mention her anymore, nor your children.
I won’t remind you of my own husband,
Who is lost too. Gather your patience,
And I won’t say a word.

LEONTES.
You spoke well
When you laid out the truth, which I accept much better
Than being pitied by you. Please, bring me
To the bodies of my queen and son:
One grave will be for both. The reasons for their death
Will be clear on them, marking our eternal shame.
Once a day I'll visit
The chapel where they rest, and my tears shed there
Will be my way of coping. As long as I can handle
This, I promise to keep doing it every day. Come, and guide me
To this sorrow.

[Exit.]

Enter Antigonus with the Child and a Sailor.

ANTIGONUS.
You’re perfect, then, our ship has reached
The shores of Bohemia?

MARINER.
Yes, my lord, and I worry
We have arrived at a bad time: the skies look dark,
And threaten strong storms. Honestly,
The heavens seem angry about what we’re doing,
And they’re frowning on us.

ANTIGONUS.
May their sacred wishes be fulfilled! Go, get on the ship;
Check on your boat: I won’t take long
Before I summon you.

MARINER.
Hurry up, but don’t go too far inland; it looks like a storm is coming. Besides, this place is known for the predators that roam around here.

ANTIGONUS.
Go away:
I’ll follow right after.

MARINER.
I’m relieved
To be done with this business.

[Log out.]

ANTIGONUS.
Come, poor baby.
I’ve heard, but didn’t believe, that the spirits of the dead
Can walk again: if that’s true, your mother
Came to me last night; because I’ve never had a dream
So real. A figure approached me,
Sometimes tilting her head to one side, then the other.
I’ve never seen anyone in such deep sorrow,
So full of grace: in pure white robes,
Like a true saint, she came close
To my cabin where I lay: she bowed before me three times,
And, struggling to speak, her eyes
Overflowed with tears. Once the initial shock faded, she said:
“Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against your better nature,
Has made you the one to abandon
My poor baby, as per your oath,
There are far-off places in Bohemia,
Weep there, and leave it crying. And, since the baby
Is considered lost forever, call her
Perdita, please. For this harsh task,
Imposed on you by my lord, you shall never see
Your wife Paulina again.” And then, with screams,
She vanished into thin air. Terrified,
I managed to collect myself and realized
This was real, not just a dream. Dreams are deceptive,
Yet for once, yes, superstitiously,
I will take this seriously. I do believe
Hermione has died, and that
Apollo would want, since this is indeed the child
Of King Polixenes, that it should be laid here,
Either for life or death, in the hands
Of its rightful father. Blossom, may you thrive! There lie; and there your
identity: there these;

[i]Laying down the child and a bundle.[/i]

If luck is on our side, may it bring you beauty,
And keep you safe. The storm is starting: poor soul,
Who, because of your mother's mistake, is exposed
To loss and whatever comes next! I cannot weep,
But my heart aches, and I am most cursed
To be bound by this oath. Goodbye!
The day gets darker and darker. You’re likely to have
A lullaby that’s too rough. I’ve never seen
The sky so gloomy in the daytime. Such a wild noise!
I’d better get on board! This is the hunt:
I am gone forever.

Exit, chased by a bear.

Enter an old Shepherd.

SHEPHERD.
I wish there was no age between ten and twenty-three, or that young people would just sleep through it; because all that happens in between is getting girls pregnant, disrespecting the elders, stealing, and fighting—Listen! Would anyone other than these clueless kids around nineteen or twenty-two be out in this weather? They scared away two of my best sheep, and I’m worried the wolf will find them before I do: if I have any luck, they’re by the seaside, munching on some ivy. Good luck, if it’s your will, what do we have here?

Picking up the child.

Mercy me, a child! A really cute kid! I wonder if it's a boy or a girl? Such a pretty one; very pretty indeed. What a scene this is. Even though I'm not well-read, I can still see a lot about the situation. This has clearly been a lot of behind-the-scenes work. They must have had it easier than this poor little one. I’ll pick it up out of compassion, but I’ll wait for my son to arrive; he just called out a moment ago. Whoa-ho-hoa!

Enter Clown.

CLOWN.
Hey there!

SHEPHERD.
What, are you so close? If you want to see something to discuss when you’re dead and gone, come here. What’s bothering you, man?

CLOWN.
I've seen two such sights, both at sea and on land! But I can't say it's a sea, because it's now the sky: you couldn't even fit the tip of a pin between them.

SHEPHERD.
What's up, boy?

CLOWN.
I wish you could see how it struggles, how it fights, how it reaches the shore! But that’s not the main issue. Oh, the heartbreaking cries of the poor souls! Sometimes you can see them, and sometimes you can’t. Now the ship is piercing the moon with its mainmast, and then it's swallowed up by waves and foam, like you’d shove a cork into a barrel. And then for the land part, to see how the bear ripped out his shoulder bone, how he cried out to me for help, saying his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to wrap up the ship part, to see how the sea dragged it under: first, how the poor souls screamed, and the sea laughed at them, and how the poor gentleman screamed, and the bear laughed at him, both roaring louder than the sea or the storm.

SHEPHERD.
Name of mercy, when did this happen, kid?

CLOWN.
Okay, okay. I haven't winked since I saw these things: the guys aren't even cold yet under the water, and the bear hasn't even finished eating the guy. He's doing it right now.

SHEPHERD.
I wish I had been there to help the old man!

CLOWN.
I wish you had been by the ship, so you could have helped her: that's where your kindness would have really mattered.

SHEPHERD.
Serious things, serious things! But check this out, kid. Now bless yourself: you’ve encountered things dying, while I’ve come across things that are just born. Here’s something for you to see. Look, a swaddling blanket for a squire’s baby! Come on, pick it up, pick it up, kid; open it. Let’s see what’s inside. I was told I’d be rich because of the fairies. This must be a changeling; open it. What’s inside, kid?

CLOWN.
You’re an old man now. If your youthful sins are forgiven, you’re good to go. Gold! All gold!

SHEPHERD.
This is fairy gold, kid, and it really is. Grab it and keep it safe: let’s head home, home, the quickest way. We’re lucky, kid, and all it takes to stay that way is to keep it a secret. Let my sheep go: come on, good kid, let’s go home the fastest way.

CLOWN.
You head the other way with your discoveries. I’ll check to see if the bear has left the gentleman and how much he has eaten. They’re only angry when they’re starving: if there’s any of him left, I’ll bury it.

SHEPHERD.
That’s a good deed. If you can figure out from what’s left of him who he is, bring me to see him.

CLOWN.
Sure, I will; and you will help to bury him.

SHEPHERD.
It's a lucky day, kid, and we’re going to do some good things today.

[Leave the stage.]

Enter Time, the Chorus.

TIME.
I please some, trying all: both joy and fear
Of good and bad, which create and reveal mistakes,
Now take upon myself, in the name of Time,
To use my wings. Don’t blame me for my swift passage, that I glide
Over sixteen years, and leave the growth untested
Of that wide gap, since it’s in my power
To overthrow law, and in one self-created hour
To plant and overwhelm tradition. Let me pass
As I am, before the oldest order existed
Or what is currently accepted. I bear witness to
The times that brought them in; so shall I do
For the newest things now reigning, and make stale
The shine of this present, as my tale
Now seems to it. Please allow this patience,
I turn my hourglass, and give my scene such growth
As if you had slept in between. Leontes leaving
The effects of his foolish jealousies, so grieving
That he isolates himself, imagine me,
Gentle spectators, that I may be
In fair Bohemia, and remember well,
I mentioned a son of the king’s, which Florizel
I now name to you; and with speed I move forward
To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace
Equal to the wonder. What happens to her I won’t predict;
But let Time’s news
Be known when it’s revealed. A shepherd’s daughter,
And what is connected to her, which follows after,
Is the subject of Time. Allow this,
If you have ever wasted time worse than now;
If not, yet Time himself says
He sincerely hopes you never do.

[Log out.]

Enter Polixenes and Camillo.

POLIXENES.
Please, good Camillo, don't be so persistent: it's like a sickness to deny you anything; it feels like death to agree to this.

CAMILLO.
It's been fifteen years since I saw my country. Even though I've mostly been living overseas, I want to be laid to rest there. Plus, the remorseful king, my master, has summoned me; I might be able to ease his sorrows, or at least I hope so—which is another reason for my departure.

POLIXENES.
As you love me, Camillo, don’t erase all the good you’ve done for me by leaving now: my need for you has come from your own kindness; it’s better not to have had you than to need you like this. You’ve set me up with tasks that no one else can manage without you, so you either have to stay and handle them yourself or take away the very services you've provided. If I haven’t considered enough (though I couldn’t possibly consider too much) how thankful I should be to you, that will be my focus, and my reward will be the friendships I build. Please don’t mention that tragic land of Sicilia anymore; just hearing its name brings back painful memories of that penitent king, as you call him, my brother, who has lost his precious queen and children, something I mourn again now. Tell me, when did you last see Prince Florizel, my son? Kings are just as unhappy when their children don’t turn out well as they are when they lose them after recognizing their worth.

CAMILLO.
Sir, it’s been three days since I saw the prince. I don’t know what good things may be happening with him, but I’ve noticed that he has been spending a lot more time away from court lately and isn’t participating in his royal duties as often as he used to.

POLIXENES.
I’ve thought about this a lot, Camillo, and carefully; enough that I have people watching his distance for me; from them, I’ve learned that he rarely leaves the home of a very humble shepherd, a man who, they say, has risen from nothing and beyond what his neighbors could imagine to a remarkable fortune.

CAMILLO.
I’ve heard, sir, about a man who has a daughter of exceptional reputation: the word about her has spread far beyond what you'd expect from such a cottage.

POLIXENES.
That's also part of my understanding: but I'm worried about the reason our son is going there. You should come with us to the place, where we can, without revealing who we are, ask the shepherd some questions. I think it won't be hard to find out why my son is going there from his simplicity. Please, be my partner in this matter and forget about Sicilia for now.

CAMILLO.
I'm happy to follow your command.

POLIXENES.
My dear Camillo! We need to disguise ourselves.

[Leave the stage.]

Enter Autolycus, singing.

AUTOLYCUS.
When daffodils start to bloom,
    With, hey! the girl across the valley,
That's when the sweetness of the year arrives,
    For the red blood thrives in winter's chill.

The white sheet drying on the hedge,
    With, hey! the sweet birds, oh, how they sing!
Makes my teeth feel gritty;
    Because a quart of ale is a meal fit for a king.

The lark, that sings its cheerful tune,
    With, hey! with, hey! the thrush and the jay,
These are summer songs for me and my aunts,
    While we lie rolling in the hay.

I have served Prince Florizel, and during that time I wore fine clothes, but now I'm out of a job.

But should I really mourn for that, my dear?
    The pale moon shines at night:
And when I wander around,
    I often find my way.

If tinkers are allowed to live,
    And carry their pigskin wallet,
Then I can confidently tell my story
    And back it up in the stocks.

My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. My dad named me Autolycus; just like I am, born under Mercury, I was also someone who picked up on overlooked little things. With some money, I bought this fancy stuff, and my income comes from silly tricks. The gallows and a good beating are too intimidating on the road. Getting beaten or hanged scares me. As for the afterlife, I push those thoughts aside. A prize! A prize!

Enter Clown.

CLOWN.
Let me think: for every eleven male sheep, each one gives a pound and a little change; with fifteen hundred sheep sheared, how much do we get for the wool?

AUTOLYCUS.
[Aside.] If the trap works, the rooster’s mine.

CLOWN.
I can't do it without some change. Let me think; what do I need to buy for our sheep-shearing party? “Three pounds of sugar, five pounds of currants, rice”—what’s my sister going to do with rice? But my dad has made her in charge of the feast, and she’s on it. She’s made me twenty-four nosegays for the shearers, all three-man song-men, and they’re pretty good; but most of them are tenors and basses, and there’s one Puritan among them who sings psalms to hornpipes. I need saffron to color the warden pies; “mace; dates”—none, that's not in my list; “seven nutmegs; a race or two of ginger”—but I might have to ask for that; “four pounds of prunes, and as many sun-dried raisins.”

AUTOLYCUS.
[Crawling on the ground.] Oh, why was I ever born!

CLOWN.
In my name!

AUTOLYCUS.
Oh, help me, help me! Just take off these rags; and then, it's death, death!

CLOWN.
Oh no, poor soul! You need more rags to cover yourself with instead of taking these off.

AUTOLYCUS.
Oh sir, their disgustingness bothers me more than the many harsh beatings I've taken, which are numerous and painful.

CLOWN.
Oh, poor guy! A lot of beating can lead to something big.

AUTOLYCUS.
I've been robbed, sir, and beaten; my money and clothes were taken from me, and these awful things have been put on me.

CLOWN.
What, by a horse rider or a pedestrian?

AUTOLYCUS.
A servant, good sir, a servant.

CLOWN.
He definitely looks like a footman based on the clothes he left with you. If this is a horseman's coat, it's been through a lot. Help me out here; come on, lend me a hand.

Helping him up.

AUTOLYCUS.
Oh, good sir, gently, oh!

CLOWN.
Poor thing!

AUTOLYCUS.
Oh, good sir, take it easy, good sir. I'm afraid my shoulder blade is dislocated.

CLOWN.
What's up! Can you stand?

AUTOLYCUS.
Easy there, my good sir! [Picks his pocket.] Just take it easy. You’ve done me a kind favor.

CLOWN.
Do you not have any money? I have a bit of cash for you.

AUTOLYCUS.
No, good sir; please, I’m begging you: I have a relative just about three-quarters of a mile away, and I was on my way to see him. I'll be able to get money or anything else I need there. Please don’t offer me money; it breaks my heart.

CLOWN.
What kind of guy was he who robbed you?

AUTOLYCUS.
A guy, sir, that I’ve known to hang out with some shady characters. I once knew him as a servant to the prince; I can't say exactly which of his qualities got him into trouble, but he definitely got kicked out of the court.

CLOWN.
You might say his flaws; there's no goodness brought out of the court. They hold onto it to keep it there; and yet it will only linger.

AUTOLYCUS.
Vices, I’d say, sir. I know this guy well. He’s been everything from a bear handler to a process server, and then a bailiff. After that, he pulled off a stunt like the Prodigal Son and married a tinker’s wife just a mile away from my land and livelihood; and after trying out many shady jobs, he finally settled into being a full-on con artist. Some call him Autolycus.

CLOWN.
Get away from him! What a joke, for real, what a joke: he hangs around parties, festivals, and bear-baiting events.

AUTOLYCUS.
Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the trickster who got me into this outfit.

CLOWN.
There isn’t a more cowardly scoundrel in all of Bohemia. If you had just stood tall and spat at him, he would have run away.

AUTOLYCUS.
I have to admit, sir, I'm not a fighter. I'm not brave in that sense; and he knew that, I'm sure.

CLOWN.
How are you now?

AUTOLYCUS.
Sweet sir, I'm doing much better than I was. I can stand and walk now: I'll even say goodbye to you and stroll gently towards my relative’s.

CLOWN.
Should I take you along the way?

AUTOLYCUS.
No, good-looking sir; no, kind sir.

CLOWN.
Then take care. I need to go buy spices for our sheep shearing.

AUTOLYCUS.
Wishing you well, good sir!

[Exit Clown.]

Your wallet isn’t fat enough to buy your stuff. I’ll join you at the sheep-shearing too. If I can’t trick this one into bringing out another, and the shearers turn out to be sheep, let me be called out, and my name be listed in the book of virtue!
[Sings.]
Keep moving, keep moving, down the path,
And happily grab the fence:
A joyful heart lasts all day,
Your sadness gets tired after a mile.

[Leave.]

Enter Florizel and Perdita.

FLORIZEL.
These unusual flowers you have all around you
Give life, not just for a shepherdess, but for Flora
Looking in at the start of April. This sheep-shearing
Is like a gathering of the minor gods,
And you are the queen of it.

PERDITA.
Sir, my gracious lord,
It’s not my place to criticize your choices;
Oh, forgive me for even mentioning it! You, yourself,
The noble pride of the land, you’ve hidden
Under the simple clothes of a shepherd, while I, a poor maid,
Dressed up like a goddess. But since our feasts
Always have some silliness, and the guests
Accept it as the norm, I wouldn’t know whether to blush
Seeing you like this; I might faint,
Just to show myself as a reflection.

FLORIZEL.
I'm grateful for the time
When my good falcon flew across
Your father's land.

PERDITA.
Now may Jove give you a reason!
To me, the differences create fear. Your greatness
Has never been used to fear. Even now I shake
To think your father, by some chance,
Should pass this way, just as you did. Oh, the Fates!
How would he react to see his work, so noble,
Vilely wrapped up? What would he say? Or how
Could I, dressed in these borrowed clothes, face
The seriousness of his presence?

FLORIZEL.
Understand
Nothing but happiness. The gods themselves,
Lowering their status to love, have taken
The forms of animals. Jupiter
Became a bull and roared; green Neptune
A ram and bleated; and the fire-clad god,
Golden Apollo, a simple humble shepherd,
Just like I appear now. Their transformations
Were never for a more beautiful reason,
Nor in a way so pure, since my desires
Don’t surpass my honor, nor do my lusts
Burn hotter than my faith.

PERDITA.
Oh, but, sir,
You can't stick to your decision when it’s
Challenged, as it definitely will be, by the king’s authority:
One of these two has to give,
Which means you’ll have to change your mind,
Or I’ll lose my life.

FLORIZEL.
My dearest Perdita,
Please don’t let these forced thoughts ruin
The joy of the feast. I’ll be yours, my lovely,
Or not my father’s. I can’t be
Myself, or anything to anyone, if
I’m not yours. I’m completely committed to this,
Even if fate says otherwise. Be happy, sweetheart.
Push those thoughts away with anything
You see around you. Your guests are coming:
Lift up your spirits, as if it were the day
We’ve both promised will be our wedding celebration.

PERDITA.
O Lady Luck,
Be favorable!

FLORIZEL.
Look, your guests are coming:
Get ready to entertain them cheerfully,
And let’s be filled with joy.

Enter Shepherd, Polixenes, and Camillo, disguised; Clown, Mopsa, Dorcas, and others.

SHEPHERD.
Come on, daughter! When my old wife was alive, on
This day she was both the pantry manager, the butler, the cook,
Both the lady and the servant; she welcomed everyone, served everyone;
She would sing her song and dance her dance; sometimes here
At the head of the table, sometimes in the middle;
With one person on her shoulder, then another; her face was red
From working hard, and she would take whatever she needed to cool off
And share it with everyone. You’re standing back,
As if you were a guest, not
The host of this gathering: please, invite
These unfamiliar friends to join us; it’s
A way to help us become better friends and get to know each other more.
Come on, get rid of your shyness and show yourself
For who you really are, the host of the feast. Come on,
And welcome us to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock will thrive.

PERDITA.
[To Polixenes.] Sir, welcome.
My father wants me to be the host for today.
[To Camillo.] You’re welcome, sir.
Hand me those flowers over there, Dorcas. Esteemed sirs,
For you, there’s rosemary and rue; these keep
Their appearance and fragrance all winter long.
May grace and remembrance be with you both!
And welcome to our shearing!

POLIXENES.
Shepherdess—
You're beautiful—you truly match our ages
With winter blooms.

PERDITA.
Sir, the year is getting old,
Not quite at the end of summer or the start
Of chilly winter, the prettiest flowers of the season
Are our pinks and striped gillyflowers,
Which some call nature’s rejects: we don’t have
Those in our simple garden; and I’m not interested
In getting cuttings of them.

POLIXENES.
Why, dear maiden,
Are you ignoring them?

PERDITA.
For I've heard it said
There’s a skill that, in its diversity, shares
With the great creativity of nature.

POLIXENES.
Let’s say there is;
But nature isn't improved by any means
Unless nature creates those means. So, beyond that skill
Which you claim enhances nature, there’s a skill
That nature itself creates. You see, sweet girl, we join
A gentler offspring to the wildest lineage,
And give rise to a lower tree
By grafting it with a nobler kind. This is a skill
That alters nature, changes it really, but
The skill itself is part of nature.

PERDITA.
That's how it is.

POLIXENES.
Then make your garden full of flowers,
And don’t call them illegitimate.

PERDITA.
I won’t plant
A single one of them;
Just like I wouldn’t want this young man to think
It’s a good idea, and only for that reason
Want to have kids with me. Here are some flowers for you:
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram,
The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun
And rises with him, crying. These are flowers
Of midsummer, and I think they’re meant
For middle-aged men. You’re very welcome.

CAMILLO.
I should stop just watching, if I were part of your group,
And only live by looking.

PERDITA.
Oh no!
You’d be so thin that January winds
Would blow right through you. [To Florizel] Now, my dearest
friend,
I wish I had some spring flowers that might
Suit your time of day; and yours, and yours,
That still wear your maidenhood on your branches.
O Proserpina,
From the flowers you let fall in fright
From Dis’s wagon! Daffodils,
That bloom before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with their beauty; dim violets,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes
Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried before they can see
Bright Phoebus in his strength (a sad fate
Most common for maidens); bold oxlips and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce among them. Oh, I wish I had these
To make you garlands; and my sweet friend,
To scatter them all over you!

FLORIZEL.
What, like a corpse?

PERDITA.
No, like a bank for love to rest and have fun;
Not like a corpse; or if so, not to be buried,
But alive and in my arms. Come, take your flowers.
I feel like I’m acting like I’ve seen them do
In Whitsun pastorals. I’m sure this robe of mine
Is changing my mood.

FLORIZEL.
Whatever you do
Is always better than what’s already done. When you speak, sweet,
I want you to keep it that way. When you sing,
I wish you would trade and give, so give to those in need,
Pray like that; and, for organizing your matters,
To sing them too. When you dance, I hope you
Move like a wave of the sea, always doing
Nothing but that, moving continually, just like that,
And having no other role. Everything you do,
So unique in every way,
Elevates what you’re doing in the present,
Making all your actions royal.

PERDITA.
Oh Doricles,
Your compliments are too much. But your youth,
And the genuine heart that shows through,
Clearly reveal you as an untainted shepherd,
With a wisdom that makes me worry, my Doricles,
You pursued me in the wrong way.

FLORIZEL.
I believe you have
As little reason to be afraid as I have intention
To make you do anything. But, let’s dance, please.
Your hand, my Perdita. Just like turtles pair
That never intend to separate.

PERDITA.
I’ll vouch for them.

POLIXENES.
This is the most beautiful girl from humble beginnings that ever
Ran on the grass. Everything she does or appears
Has a hint of something greater than herself,
Too noble for this place.

CAMILLO.
He tells her something
That makes her blush. Honestly, she is
The queen of curds and cream.

CLOWN.
Come on, start up.

DORCAS.
Mopsa must be your boss: get married, garlic, to improve her kissing skills!

MOPSA.
Now, in due time!

CLOWN.
Not a word, just a word; we maintain our composure.
Come on, let’s get started.

[Music. Here’s a dance of shepherds and shepherdesses.]

POLIXENES.
Please, good shepherd, who is this handsome young man
dancing with your daughter?

SHEPHERD.
They call him Doricles, and he claims to have a good reputation. But I’ve heard it from him directly, and I believe it. He looks honest. He says he loves my daughter. I believe that too; because never did the moon gaze upon the water as he does when he looks into my daughter’s eyes. And to be straightforward, I think there isn’t much difference in who loves the other more.

She dances skillfully.

SHEPHERD.
So she does whatever she wants, even if I keep it quiet.
If young Doricles happens to find her, she'll give him something
That he never expects.

Enter a Servant.

SERVANT.
Oh master, if you could just hear the peddler at the door, you’d never dance again to a drum and flute; no, even the bagpipe wouldn't sway you. He sings so many songs faster than you can count your money. He throws them out as if he had devoured ballads, and all ears perk up to his tunes.

CLOWN.
He couldn't come at a better time: he should come in. I love a ballad, but only if it's a sad story told in a cheerful way, or if it's something really funny sung with a sad tone.

SERVANT.
He has songs for everyone, no matter their size. No hat maker can fit his customers with gloves as well as he can. He has the sweetest love songs for young women, without any vulgarity, which is unusual; with such subtle references to intimacy like “jump her and thump her.” While some crass person might try to ruin it with nasty words, he gets the girl to respond with “Whoop, do me no harm, good man,” brushing him off with “Whoop, do me no harm, good man.”

POLIXENES.
This is a brave guy.

CLOWN.
Believe me, you’re talking about a really arrogant guy. Does he have any unwrapped goods?

SERVANT.
He has ribbons of every color in the rainbow; more laces than all the lawyers in Bohemia could handle, even if they came in bulk; threads, trimmings, fine fabrics, and sheer cloths; he sings about them as if they were gods or goddesses; you'd think a dress was a she-angel, the way he praises the sleeve and the design on it.

CLOWN.
Please bring him in; and let him come in singing.

PERDITA.
Warn him not to use any offensive words in his songs.

[Exit Servant.]

CLOWN.
You have some of these peddlers who are more than they seem, sister.

PERDITA.
Yes, good brother, or go ahead and think.

Enter Autolycus, singing.

AUTOLYCUS.
Soft as fresh snow,
Black as the crows,
Gloves that smell like damask roses,
Masks for faces and for noses,
Bugle bracelets, amber necklaces,
Perfume for a lady's space,
Golden hairpieces and bodices
For my friends to give their loves,
Pins and poking sticks of steel,
Everything girls need, from head to heel.
Come buy from me, come; come buy, come buy;
Buy, guys, or else your girls will cry.
Come, buy.

CLOWN.
If I weren't in love with Mopsa, you wouldn’t get any money from me; but since I’m completely smitten, it will also involve some ribbons and gloves.

MOPSA.
I was told they would be here for the feast; but they're not too late now.

DORCAS.
He has promised you more than that, or there are liars.

MOPSA.
He has given you everything he promised. Maybe he has even given you more, which might make you feel embarrassed to give him anything back.

CLOWN.
Is there no decency left among the maids? Will they show their skirts where they should be showing their faces? Isn’t there a time for milking, when you’re heading to bed, or someplace private, to share these secrets, but you have to be gossiping in front of all our guests? It’s good they’re whispering. Shut your mouths, and not a word more.

MOPSA.
I'm done. Come on, you said you'd give me some cheap lace and a nice pair of gloves.

CLOWN.
Haven't I told you how I was tricked along the way and lost all my money?

AUTOLYCUS.
And really, sir, there are con artists out there; so it's important for people to be cautious.

CLOWN.
Don't worry, man. You won't lose anything here.

AUTOLYCUS.
I hope so, sir; because I have many packages with me.

CLOWN.
What do we have here? Ballads?

MOPSA.
Come on, buy some. I love a ballad in print because then we know they’re real.

AUTOLYCUS.
Here’s one to a very sad tune. How a loan shark’s wife ended up giving birth to twenty money-bags all at once, and how she craved to eat snake heads and grilled toads.

MOPSA.
Do you think it’s true?

AUTOLYCUS.
That's right, and it's only a month old.

DORCAS.
Please save me from marrying a loan shark!

AUTOLYCUS.
Here’s the name of the midwife, Mistress Taleporter, along with five or six honest women who were there. Why should I spread lies around?

MOPSA.
Please buy it now.

CLOWN.
Come on, set that aside; let’s check out more ballads first. We’ll get the other stuff later.

AUTOLYCUS.
Here’s another song about a fish that showed up on the shore on Wednesday, the eighth of April, 40,000 fathoms above water, and sang this song to criticize the hard hearts of women. People thought she was a woman, and she turned into a cold fish because she wouldn't share her body with someone who loved her. The song is very sad and definitely true.

DORCAS.
Do you really think that's true?

AUTOLYCUS.
Five judges involved, and more witnesses than I can carry.

CLOWN.
Set it aside too: another.

AUTOLYCUS.
This is a cheerful song; but a really charming one.

MOPSA.
Let’s have some fun.

AUTOLYCUS.
This is quite a catchy tune and goes to the song "Two maids wooing a man." Almost every girl in the west sings it. It's really popular, I can tell you.

MOPSA.
We can both sing it: if you’ll join in, you’ll hear it; it’s in three parts.

DORCAS.
We had the song about a month ago.

AUTOLYCUS.
I can handle my share; you should know it's my job: here we go.

Track.

AUTOLYCUS.
Get lost, because I have to go
Where you shouldn't know.

DORCAS.
Where to?

MOPSA.
Oh, where to?

DORCAS.
Where to?

MOPSA.
It really is your promise
To share your secrets with me.

DORCAS.
Me too! Let me go there.

MOPSA.
Either you go to the farm or the mill.

DORCAS.
If you do wrong to either one.

AUTOLYCUS.
Neither.

DORCAS.
What, not at all?

AUTOLYCUS.
Neither.

DORCAS.
You have promised my love to be.

MOPSA.
You promised me more.
So where are you going? Tell me, where?

CLOWN.
We’ll perform this song ourselves soon. My dad and the guys are having a serious conversation, and we won't interrupt them. Come on, bring your stuff and follow me. Ladies, I’ll buy for both of you. Pedlar, let’s pick first. Follow me, girls.

[Leave with Dorcas and Mopsa.]

AUTOLYCUS.
[Aside.] And you'll pay a good price for them.

TUNE.

Will you buy some tape,
    Or lace for your cape,
My sweet little duck, my dear?
    Any silk, any thread,
    Any toys for your head,
Of the newest and finest gear?
    Come to the seller;
    Money’s a busybody
That deals in everyone’s stuff.

[Log out.]

Enter Servant.

SERVANT.
Master, there are three carters, three shepherds, three cowherds, and three swineherds who have all become hairy men. They call themselves salt-of-the-earth, and they have a dance that the women say is a mix of tricks because they aren't in it; but they believe (if it's not too wild for those who only know about bowling) it will be quite enjoyable.

SHEPHERD.
No way! We're not doing that. There's been enough silly stuff already. I know, sir, we're tiring you out.

POLIXENES.
You tire out those who bring us joy: please, let's meet these four groups of herdsmen.

SERVANT.
One of the three of them, according to their own account, sir, has danced in front of the king; and not the least impressive of the three can jump twelve and a half feet square.

SHEPHERD.
Stop your chatter: since these good people are happy, let them come in; but hurry it up now.

SERVANT.
Well, they’re waiting at the door, sir.

[Leave.]

Enter Twelve Rustics, dressed like Satyrs. They dance and then exit.

POLIXENES.
Oh, dad, you'll find out more about that later.
[To Camillo.] Isn't it already too late? It's time to separate them.
He's naive and talks too much. [To Florizel.] Hey there, handsome shepherd!
Your heart is filled with something that keeps
You from enjoying the feast. Truly, when I was young
And in love like you are, I used to
Spoil my girl with gifts: I would have raided
The peddler's silk stash and given it all
To her. You’ve let him go,
And he took nothing with him. If your girl
Misinterprets this and thinks it
Means you lack love or generosity, you'd be stuck
Trying to explain yourself, especially if you care
About keeping her happy.

FLORIZEL.
Old man, I know
She doesn't value things like these:
The gifts she wants from me are packed away
In my heart, which I’ve already given,
But not yet delivered. Oh, listen to me express my feelings
In front of this elderly gentleman, who, it seems,
Has loved before. I take your hand! This hand,
So soft like a dove's down and as white as it,
Or an Ethiopian’s tooth, or the snow that’s sifted
By northern winds over and over.

POLIXENES.
What comes next?
Look how nicely the young man seems to wash
The hand that was beautiful before! I've distracted you.
But regarding your claim. Let me hear
What you declare.

FLORIZEL.
Go ahead, and see for yourself.

POLIXENES.
And is this my neighbor, too?

FLORIZEL.
And he, and more
Than he, and people, the earth, the skies, and everything:
If I were crowned the most powerful king,
That was the most deserving, if I were the most beautiful young man
That ever caught someone’s eye, had strength and knowledge
Beyond what any man ever had, I would not value them
Without her love; for her, I would use them all;
I would commend them and condemn them to her service,
Or to their own downfall.

POLIXENES.
Fairly offered.

CAMILLO.
This shows genuine affection.

SHEPHERD.
But my daughter,
Do you feel the same way about him?

PERDITA.
I can't express myself
As well, nothing at all; no, I can't do any better:
By the example of my own thoughts, I shape out
The clarity of his.

SHEPHERD.
Let’s shake hands, it’s a deal!
And to you, friends I don’t know, you’ll be our witnesses.
I’m giving my daughter to him, and I’ll make
Her share just as big as his.

FLORIZEL.
Oh, that must be
In the grace of your daughter: one person gone,
I'll have more than you can imagine right now;
That should be fascinating enough for you. But let’s move forward,
Let’s get engaged in front of these witnesses.

SHEPHERD.
Come, take my hand;
And, daughter, take yours.

POLIXENES.
Hey there, young man, can I ask you something?;
Do you have a father?

FLORIZEL.
I do, but what about him?

POLIXENES.
Does he know about this?

FLORIZEL.
He doesn't now or ever.

POLIXENES.
I think a father
Is the most fitting guest at his son's wedding.
Please tell me again,
Isn't your father unable
To handle sensible matters? Is he not a bit slow
Because of age and changing conditions? Can he speak? Hear?
Know one person from another? Discuss his own situation?
Isn't he confined to bed? And all he does
Is what he did when he was a child?

FLORIZEL.
No, good sir;
He is healthy and stronger, in fact,
Than most people his age.

POLIXENES.
By my white beard,
If this is true, you’re presenting him with a wrong
That feels ungrateful: my son should choose his own wife, but it makes just as much sense
For the father, whose only happiness comes from having a lovely legacy,
To have some say in such a matter.

FLORIZEL.
I agree to all of this;
But for some other reasons, my serious sir,
That are not appropriate for you to know, I won't inform
My father about this matter.

POLIXENES.
Let him know it.

FLORIZEL.
He won't.

POLIXENES.
Please let him.

FLORIZEL.
No, he can't.

SHEPHERD.
Let him be, my son: he won't have to worry
About knowing your choice.

FLORIZEL.
Come on, he can't.
Remember our agreement.

POLIXENES.
[Revealing himself.] Notice your separation, young man,
Whom I can’t even call my son; you’re too low
To be recognized: you, heir to a throne,
Who acts like a shepherd! You, old traitor,
I regret that by hanging you, I can
Only cut your life short by a week. And you, new piece
Of incredible sorcery, who must surely know
The royal fool you’re messing with,—

SHEPHERD.
Oh, my heart!

POLIXENES.
I’ll have your beauty scratched with thorns and made
More ordinary than your position. For you, foolish boy,
If I ever find out that you just sigh
Because you won’t see this charm again (which
I certainly don’t think you will), we’ll cut you off from the inheritance;
You won’t be considered part of our blood, no, not our family,
Farther away than Deucalion. Mark my words.
Follow us to the court. You’re a jerk, for this time,
Even though we’re really displeased with you, we’ll let you
Off the hook for it. And you, enchantment,
Worthy enough of a herdsman; yeah, him too
Who makes himself unworthy just for our honor in this,
If you ever again
Open these rural latches for his entry,
Or wrap his body with your hugs,
I will plan a death as cruel for you
As you are gentle towards it.

[Leave.]

PERDITA.
Even here, feeling lost.
I wasn't really scared, because once or twice
I was about to speak and tell him straight out
The same sun that shines on his court
Doesn't hide his face from our cottage, but
Looks on both of us equally. [To Florizel.] Would you please leave, sir?
I warned you what would happen. I beg you,
Take care of your own situation. This dream of mine—
Now that I'm awake, I won’t pretend any longer,
I’ll just tend to my sheep and cry.

CAMILLO.
Hey, what's going on, Dad!
Talk before you pass away.

SHEPHERD.
I can’t speak, think, or even dare to acknowledge what I know. Oh sir,
You have ruined a man of eighty-three,
Who hoped to rest in peace in his grave; yes,
To die in the same bed my father died in,
To lie close to his honorable remains; but now
Some executioner must dress me for burial and lay me
Where no priest scatters dust. Oh, wretched fool,
That knew this was the prince and dared
To mix faith with him! Ruined, ruined!
If I could die in this hour, I have lived
To die when I choose.

[Log out.]

FLORIZEL.
Why are you looking at me like that?
I'm just sad, not scared; held up,
But I haven't changed: I am still the same:
Trying hard to move forward but being pulled back; not following
My leash against my will.

CAMILLO.
My lord,
You know how your father is: right now
He won't listen to any talk (which I assume
You don't intend to give him) and I worry
He won't even want to see you just yet:
So, until his anger calms down,
Don't go in front of him.

FLORIZEL.
I didn’t mean it.
Do you think it’s Camillo?

CAMILLO.
Even he, my lord.

PERDITA.
How often have I said it would end up like this!
How often did I say my dignity would only hold on
Until it was revealed!

FLORIZEL.
It can only fail if
I break my promise; and then
Let nature slam the earth together
And ruin the seeds inside! Look up.
Erase me from your legacy, father; I
Am the heir to my feelings.

CAMILLO.
Be aware.

FLORIZEL.
I am, and that's how I feel. If my mind
Decides to comply, then I have a good reason;
If not, my senses, happier with madness,
Welcome it instead.

CAMILLO.
This is urgent, sir.

FLORIZEL.
Let's just call it that: but it does keep my promise.
I have to see it as honest. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the glory that might
Come from it; for everything the sun sees or
The earth hides, or the deep seas conceal
In their unknown depths, will I break my vow
To my beloved. So, I ask you,
Since you have always been my father's valued friend,
When he realizes I'm gone,—as I honestly plan not
To see him again,—offer your good advice
For his feelings: let me and fate
Wrestle with what comes next. You should understand,
And so communicate, I am setting out
With her whom I cannot keep here on land;
And, just as she needs it most, I have
A ship ready nearby, but it's not prepared
For this purpose. What path I plan to take
Will not benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the telling.

CAMILLO.
Oh my lord,
I wish your spirit were more open to advice,
Or stronger for what you need.

FLORIZEL.
Listen, Perdita. [Takes her aside.]
[To Camillo.] I’ll listen to you later.

CAMILLO.
He's not going anywhere,
Determined to leave. I would be happy if
I could find a way to make his departure work for me,
Keep him out of danger, show him love and respect,
Get another chance to see dear Sicilia
And that unfortunate king, my master, whom
I long to see so much.

FLORIZEL.
Now, listen, Camillo,
I’m so caught up in all this interesting stuff that
I skip the formalities.

CAMILLO.
Sir, I think
You’ve heard about my humble services, in the love
That I’ve had for your father?

FLORIZEL.
You truly deserve this praise. It's my father's role
To recognize your actions, and he cares a lot
About making sure you're rewarded as he has considered.

CAMILLO.
Well, my lord,
If you’ll believe that I care for the king,
And, through him, for what’s closest to him, which is
You, your gracious self, just follow my advice,
If your heavier and more settled plan
Can handle a change. I promise you,
I’ll guide you to a place where you’ll be received
In a way that suits your highness; where you can
Enjoy your lady. From what I see,
There's no separation except through,
As heaven forbid, your downfall. Marry her,
And with my best efforts during your absence,
I’ll try to win over your unhappy father
And bring him around to approval.

FLORIZEL.
How, Camillo,
Can this, almost a miracle, happen?
So I can call you something more than just a man,
And then trust you.

CAMILLO.
Have you thought about
where you’ll go?

FLORIZEL.
Not yet.
But just like unexpected accidents are responsible
For our reckless actions, we admit
That we are slaves to chance, and like
Flies to every gust of wind.

CAMILLO.
Then listen to me:
Here’s the deal, if you won’t change your mind,
But take this journey, head to Sicilia,
And there present yourself and your beautiful princess,
Because I see she must be like that, before Leontes:
She should be dressed as befits
The partner of your bed. I can imagine
Leontes opening his arms and crying
His warm welcomes; he asks you, the son, for forgiveness,
As if it were in the father’s place; he kisses the hands
Of your lovely princess; again and again he is torn
Between his unkindness and his kindness. The one
He sends to hell, while he urges the other to grow
Faster than thought or time.

FLORIZEL.
Hey, Camillo,
What color should I wear for my visit with him?

CAMILLO.
Sent by your father the king
To greet him and offer him comfort. Sir,
The way you present yourself to him, with
What you’re going to say (as from your father),
Things known between the three of us, I’ll write down for you,
Which will guide you at each meeting
On what you need to say; he won’t realize
That you have your father’s support and are speaking from his true feelings.

FLORIZEL.
I'm tied to you:
There’s something genuine in this.

CAMILLO.
A path with more potential
Than throwing yourselves into
Unknown waters and uncharted shores, which is sure
To lead to plenty of suffering: there’s no hope for your rescue,
Except that you might trade one struggle for another:
Nothing is as certain as your anchors, which
Do their best if they can just keep you
Where you don’t want to be. Plus, you know
That prosperity is the very basis of love,
Whose fresh appearance and heart together
Affliction changes.

PERDITA.
One of these is true:
I think suffering might bring someone down on the outside,
But it can't touch the mind.

CAMILLO.
Really, do you think so?
There won’t be another one like that at your father’s house for seven years.

FLORIZEL.
My good Camillo,
She is as bold as her background is
Behind our lineage.

CAMILLO.
I can't say it's a shame
She doesn't have guidance, because she appears to be a master
To most of those who teach.

PERDITA.
Excuse me, sir; for this
I’ll thank you with a blush.

FLORIZEL.
My beautiful Perdita!
But oh, the challenges we face! Camillo,
Saver of my father, now mine,
The remedy for our family, what do we do?
We aren't equipped like Bohemia’s prince,
Nor will we fit in Sicilia.

CAMILLO.
My lord,
Don't worry about any of this. I believe you know that my fortunes
Are all tied up in this: I will make it my priority
To ensure you're treated like royalty as if
The role you're playing were mine. For example, sir,
Just so you know you won’t lack for anything—just one word.
[They talk aside.]

Enter Autolycus.

AUTOLYCUS.
Ha, ha! What a fool honesty is! And trust, its sworn brother, is such a simple guy! I’ve sold all my junk. Not a fake gem, not a ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, notebook, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoelace, bracelet, or horn ring to keep my pack from starving. They rush in to buy as if my trinkets were blessed and would bring good luck to the buyer; because of that, I figured out whose wallet was the fullest. And what I saw, I kept in mind for my benefit. My clown (who just needs a bit to be a decent guy) got so enamored with the girls’ song that he wouldn’t move a muscle until he had both the tune and the lyrics; this drew the rest of the crowd to me so much that all their other senses were stuck on listening: you could have pinched a lady's skirt, it was like they didn’t even notice; it wouldn’t have mattered to take a purse from them; I could have stolen the keys hanging from their chains. No one was hearing or feeling anything but my sir’s song, and they were in awe of how meaningless it was. So during this time of sleepiness, I picked and cut most of their festive purses; and if the old man hadn’t barged in with a ruckus about his daughter and the king’s son, scaring my birds away from the grain, I wouldn’t have left a single purse alive in the whole camp.

Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita step forward.

CAMILLO.
But my letters, which will be there
As soon as you arrive, will clear up that doubt.

FLORIZEL.
And what about the ones you’ll get from King Leontes?

CAMILLO.
Will please your dad.

PERDITA.
May you be happy!
Everything you say sounds lovely.

CAMILLO.
[Noticing Autolycus.] Who do we have here?
We’ll use this to our advantage; let’s not
Miss anything that could help us.

AUTOLYCUS.
[Aside.] If they’ve heard me now,—well, that’s it for me.

CAMILLO.
Hey there, buddy! Why are you shaking like that? Don’t worry, man; no harm is meant to you.

AUTOLYCUS.
I’m just a broke guy, sir.

CAMILLO.
Why, just be quiet; no one is going to take that from you. But because of how you look, we need to make a trade; so change your clothes right away—you need to understand this is necessary—and swap outfits with this gentleman. Even though what he has is of lesser value, here, take this, it's still useful.

[Donating money.]

AUTOLYCUS.
I'm a broke guy, sir: [Aside.] I know you well enough.

CAMILLO.
Come on, hurry up: the guy is already half skinned.

AUTOLYCUS.
Are you serious, sir? [Aside.] I can smell the trick in this.

FLORIZEL.
Dispatch, please.

AUTOLYCUS.
Honestly, I've had a lot of offers, but I can't in good conscience accept it.

CAMILLO.
Unfasten, unfasten.

Florizel and Autolycus swap clothes.

Fortunate mistress, let my prediction
Reach you! You need to hide away
In some safe place. Take your lover’s hat
And pull it down over your forehead, cover your face,
Transform yourself; and, as best as you can, change
The truth of how you appear; so that you may
(For I’m afraid of being watched) get to the ship
Without being noticed.

PERDITA.
I can see the play is so deceitful
That I have to take a role.

CAMILLO.
No solution.
Have you been there?

FLORIZEL.
If I were to meet my father now,
He wouldn’t call me his son.

CAMILLO.
No, you're not getting the hat. [Handing it to Perdita.]
Come on, lady, let's go. Goodbye, my friend.