Clown. He seems to be of great authority: close with him, give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold: show the inside of your purse to the outside of his hand, and no more ado. Remember,—ston’d and flayed alive.
Shepherd. An’t please you, sir, to undertake the business for us, here is that gold I have: I’ll make it as much more, and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you.
After I have done what I promised?
Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this business?
In some sort, sir: but though my case be a pitiful one, I hope I
shall not be flayed out of it.
O, that’s the case of the shepherd’s son. Hang him, he’ll be made
Clown. Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king and show our strange sights. He must know ’tis none of your daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this old man does, when the business is performed; and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be brought you.
I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side; go on the
right-hand; I will but look upon the hedge, and follow you.
We are blessed in this man, as I may say, even blessed.
Let’s before, as he bids us: he was provided to do us good.
[Exeunt Shepherd and Clown.]
Autolycus. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion,—gold, and a means to do the prince my master good; which who knows how that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he think it fit to shore them again, and that the complaint they have to the king concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far officious; for I am proof against that title, and what shame else belongs to’t. To him will I present them: there may be matter in it.
Scene I. Sicilia. A Room in the palace of Leontes.
[Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and others.]
Sir, you have done enough, and have perform’d
A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make
Which you have not redeem’d; indeed, paid down
More penitence than done trespass: at the last,
Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil;
With them, forgive yourself.
Whilst I remember
Her and her virtues, I cannot forget
My blemishes in them; and so still think of
The wrong I did myself: which was so much
That heirless it hath made my kingdom, and
Destroy’d the sweet’st companion that e’er man
Bred his hopes out of.