Practice English Speaking&Listening with: The Winter's Tale Live Capture

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[♪ SOFT PIANO]

[MUSIC BECOMES LOUDER & DISSONANT]

[CRASH OF THUNDER]

Nine changes of the wat'ry star hath been the shepherd's note

since we have left our throne without a burden.

Time as long again would be filled up, my brother, with our thanks.

Stay your thanks awhile, and pay them when you part.

Sir, that's tomorrow.

I am questioned by my fears of what may chance or breed upon our absence.

Besides, I have stayed to tire your royalty.

We are tougher, brother, than you can put us to it.

No longer stay. — One seve'night longer.

Very sooth, tomorrow. — We'll part the time between us, then,

and in that I'll no gainsaying.

Press me not, beseech you, so. There is no tongue that moves,

none, none in the world, so soon as yours could win me.

Well, farewell, our brother.

Tongue-tied, our queen? Speak you.

HERMIONE: I had thought, sir, to have held my peace

until you had drawn oaths from him not to stay.

You, sir, charge him too coldly.

Tell him you are sure all in Bohemia's well.

Well said, Hermione.

To tell he longs to see his son were strong.

But let him say so then, and let him go.

Yet of your royal presence I'll adventure the borrow of a week.

When at Bohemia you take my lord, I'll give him my commission

to let him there a month beyond the date prefixed for's parting.

Yet, good deed, Leontes,

I love thee not a jar o'th'clock beyond what lady she her lord.

You'll stay? — No, madam.

- Nay, but you will! — I may not, verily.

"Verily"?

You put me off with limber vows. Will you go yet?

[FOOTSTEPS WALKING AWAY]

Force me to keep you as a prisoner,

not like a guest, so you can remain ungrateful and save your thanks.

How say you? [LOUDLY] My prisoner? Or my guest?

By your dread "verily," one of them you shall be.

Your guest, then, madam.

Come, tell me of my lord and you when you were boys.

You were pretty lordlings then? — Oh, we were, fair queen,

two lads that thought there was no more behind

but such a day tomorrow as today, and to be boy eternal.

Was not my lord the verier wag o' th' two?

We were as twinned lambs that did frisk in the sun

and bleat the one at the other.

What we exchanged was innocence for innocence.

We knew not the doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreamed that any did.

Had we remained as boys and our weak spirits ne'er been higher reared

we should have answered heaven boldly "Not guilty," clear of the oldest sin.

BOTH: Not guilty!

By this we gather you have tripped since.

O my most sacred lady, temptation has then since been born to us,

for in those unfledged days was my wife a girl.

Your precious self had not crossed the eyes of my young playfellow.

Grace to boot!

Of this make no conclusion, lest you say your queen and I are devils.

Yet go onthe offences we have made you do we'll answer,

if you first sinned with us, and that with us you did continue fault,

and that you slipped not with any but with us.

Is he won yet?

He'll stay, my lord. — At my request he would not.

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spoke to better purpose.

Never? — Never but once.

What, have I twice said well?

When was't before?

I prithee tell me. Cram's with praise.

But to the goalmy last good deed was to entreat his stay.

And once before I spoke to th' purpose?

When?

Nay, let me have'tI long.

LEONTES: Why, that was when three crabbéd months had soured themselves to death

ere I could make you open your white hand

and clap thyself my love.

Then didst thou utter, "I am yours forever."

[♪ SOFT PIANO]

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice.

The one forever earned a royal husband,

the other for some while a friend.

Too hot, too hot!

To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.

I have tremor cordis on me.

My heart dances, but not for joy.

Not joy.

This entertainment may a free face put on, derive a liberty from heartiness,

from bounty, fertile bosom, and well become the agent it may, I grant.

But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,

as now they are, and making practiced smiles

as in a looking glass, and then to sigh,

as it were the mort of the deer... [POLIXENES & HERMIONE SIGH]

That is entertainment my bosom likes not.

Nor my brows.

Mamillius, art thou my boy?

Ay, my good lord! — I'fecks! Why, that's my bawcock.

What, hast smutched thy nose? They say it is a copy out of mine.

Come, captain, we must be neat.

Still virginalling upon his palm?

How now, you wanton calf?

Art thou my calf? — MAMILLIUS: Yes, if you will, my lord.

Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have to be full like me.

And yet they say we are almost as like as eggs.

Women say so, that will say anything.

Come on, sir page, look on me with your welkin eye.

Sweet villain, most dearest, my collop!

Can thy dam?

May it be affection?

Thy intention stabs the centre.

Thou dost make possible things not so held. Communicat'st with dreams.

How can this be?

Thou may'st co-join with something and thou dost,

and that beyond commission, and I find it.

And that to the infection of my brains and hard'ning of my brows.

What means Sicilia?

He something seems unsettled. — How, my lord?

What cheer? How is't with you, best brother?

You look as if you held a brow of much distraction.

Are you moved, my lord? — No. No, in good earnest.

How sometimes nature will betray its folly,

its tenderness,

and make itself a pastime to harder bosoms.

Looking on the lines of my boy's face,

methoughts I did recoil twenty-three years.

And saw myself unbreeched, in my green velvet coat,

my dagger muzzled lest it should bite its master and so prove,

as ornaments oft do, too dangerous.

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,

this squash, this gentleman.

Mine honest friend, will you take eggs for money?

No, my lord, I'll fight!

You will?! Why, happy man be's dole!

My brother, are you so fond of your young prince as we do seem to be of ours?

If at home, sir, my son Florizel is all my exercise,

my mirth, my matter,

now my sworn friend and then mine enemy.

My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all.

He makes a July's day short as December,

and with his varying childness cures in me thoughts that would thick my blood.

So stands this squire officed with me.

We two will walk, my lord, and leave you to your graver steps.

Hermione...

How thou lov'st us show in our brother's welcome.

Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap.

Next to thyself and my young rover, he is apparent to my heart.

If you would seek us, we are yours in the garden. Shall's attend you there?

LEONTES: To your own bents dispose you. You'll be found, be you beneath the sky.

I am angling now, though you perceive me not how I do give line.

Go to, go to!

How she holds up the neb,

the bill to him,

and arms her with the boldness of a wife to her allowing husband!

Gone already.

Inch thick, knee-deep,

o'er head and ears a forked one!

Go and play, boy. Play.

Thy mother plays, and I play too,

but so disgraced a part,

whose issue will hiss me to my grave.

Contempt and clamour will be my knell.

Go play, boy!

[MAMILLIUS SOBS]

Play.

There have been, or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now.

And many a man there is, even at this present,

now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,

and little thinks that she has been sluiced in his absence,

his pond fished by his next neighbour, by Sir Smiles.

His neighbour.

Nay, there is comfort in it whilst other men have gates

and those gates opened, as mine, against their will.

Should all despair that have revolted wives,

the tenth of mankind would hang themselves.

Physic for it there is none.

It is a bawdy planet.

And it will strike where 'tis predominant.

And it is powerful, think it,

from east, west, north and south, be it concluded,

no barricado for a belly.

Know it. It will let in and out the enemy with...

..bag and baggage.

Many thousand ones have this disease and feel it not.

How now, boy? — MAMILLIUS: I am like you, they say!

LEONTES: Well, that's some comfort.

What, Camillo there? — CAMILLO: Ay, my good lord.

Mamillius...go and play.

Thou art an honest man.

Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

You had much ado to make his anchor hold.

When you cast out, it still came home. — LEONTES: Didst note it?

He would not stay at your petition, made his business more material.

Didst perceive it? They are here with me already, whispering, rounding.

[SING-SONG] "Sicilia..."

It is far gone when I shall gust it last. How came it, Camillo, that he did stay?

At the good queen's entreaty. — At the queen's be it.

"Good" should be pertinent, but so it is, it is not.

Was this taken by any understanding pate but thine

for thy conceit is soaking, it will draw in more than the common blocks.

I think most understand Bohemia stays here longer.

What? — Stays here longer.

Ay, but why? — To satisfy your Highness

and the entreaties of our most gracious mistress.

Satisfy the entreaties of your mistress?

Satisfy?

[HE LAUGHS]

Well, let that suffice.

I have trusted you, Camillo, with all the nearest things to my heart,

as well my chamber-counsels, wherein, priestlike,

thou hast cleansed my bosom.

But we have been deceived in thy integrity,

deceived in that which seems so.

Be it forbid, my lord! — To bid upon it.

Thou art not honest, or, if thou inclin'st that way,

thou art a coward, and therein negligent. Or else a fool.

My gracious lord, I may be negligent, foolish and fearful.

In every one of these no man is free.

Have not you seen, Camillo, that my wife is slippery,

deserves a name as rank as any flax-wench?

I have seen nothing, my lord. — Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning cheek to cheek?

Is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip?

Stopping the career of laughter with a sigh?

A note infallible of breaking honesty.

Horsing foot on foot? Skulking in corners?

Wishing clocks more swift?

Hoursminutes? Noonmidnight?

And all eyes blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,

that would unseen be wicked?

Is this nothing?

Why, then the world and all that's in it is nothing.

The covering sky is nothing,

Polixenes is nothing, my wife is nothing,

and nothing have these nothings, if this be nothing.

Good my lord, be cured of this diseased opinion,

and betimes, for 'tis most dangerous.

Say it be, 'tis true. — No, no, my lord!

It is!

It is.

You lie.

You lie.

I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate you.

Pronounce you a gross lout,

a mindless slave,

or else a hovering temporizer that canst with thine eyes at once

see good and evil, inclining to them both.

Were my wife's liver as spotted as her life,

she would not live the running of one glass.

Who does infect her? — Why, he who wears her like her medal,

hanging about her neck.

Bohemia, who, if I had servants true about me,

they would do that which should undo more doing.

Ay, and thou, his cupbearer

mightst bespice a cup to give mine enemy a lasting wink,

which draft to me were cordial.

Sir, my lord, I could do this

but I cannot believe this crack to be in my dread mistress.

I have loved thee... — Make that thy question, and go rot!

Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, to put myself to this vexation?

Sully the purity and whiteness of my sheets

which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted

is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps

give scandal to the blood of the Prince,

my son, whom I do think is mine and love as mine,

without ripe moving to it?

Could I do this?

Would man so blench?

I must believe you, sir. I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for it

provided that, when he's removed, your Highness will take again your queen

as yours at first, even for your son's sake.

Thou dost advise me even so as I mine own course have set down.

I will give no blemish to her honour, none.

My lord, go then, and with a countenance as clear as friendship wears at feasts,

keep with Bohemia and with your queen.

I am his cupbearer.

If from me he have wholesome beverage, account me not your servant.

This is all. Do it and thou hast the one half of my heart.

Do it not, and thou splittest thine own. — CAMILLO: I'll do it, my lord.

I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me.

(AUDIENCE LAUGHS)

What case stand I in?

I must be the poisoner of good Polixenes,

and my ground to do it is the obedience to a master,

one who in rebellion with himself will have all that are his

rebel 'gainst him too.

I must forsake the court.

To do it or no is certain to me a breakneck.

Good day, Camillo.

Camillo?

Hail, most royal sir. — What's the news in the court?

None rare, my lord. — Camillo, what ails thee?

There is a sickness which puts some of us in distemper,

yet I cannot name the disease.

But it is caught from you.

Well, how caught from me?

Camillo, I beseech you, if you know aught that does behove my knowledge

thereof to be informed, imprison it not in ignorant concealment.

I may not answer. — A sickness caught of me, and yet I well?

I must be answered.

Dost thou hear, Camillo?

I conjure thee that thou declare

what thou dost guess of harm is creeping towards me.

How far off, how near.

Which way to be prevented, if to be. If not, how best to bear it.

Sir, I will tell you. — On, good Camillo.

I am appointed him to murder you.

By whom, Camillo? — By Leontes.

For what?

He thinks, nay with all confidence he swears,

that you have touched his queen... forbiddenly.

O, then my best blood turn to an infected jelly,

and my name be yoked with his that did betray the best!

You may as well forbid the sea obey the moon to shake the fabric of his folly.

How should this grow? — I know not.

But I am sure it is safer to avoid what's grown than question how it is born.

If therefore you dare trust my honesty, for myself,

I'll put my fortunes to your service. — I do believe thee.

Be pilot to me, my ships are ready. Let us avoid.

[RUNNING FOOTSTEPS]

Take the boy to you.

He so troubles me, 'tis past enduring.

[MAMILLIUS SCREAMS]

Shhh!

Come, my gracious lord.

[TANTRUM CONTINUES] Shall I be your playfellow?

No! I'll none of you! — Why, my sweet lord?

Because you'll kiss me hard and speak to me...

[SOBBING] ..as if I were a baby still!

[SOBBING AND SCREAMING]

[♪ TINKLING MUSIC]

The queen, your mother, rounds apace.

And we shall present our services to a fine new prince one of these days.

[HE SCREAMS]

No! No!

NOOOOOOOO!

Come, sir, now.

I am for you again.

Naughty!

Pray you...

..sit by us, and tell us a tale.

Merry or sad shall 't be?

As merry as you will. — A sad tale is best for winter.

I have one of sprites and goblins.

Let's have that, good sir. Come on, sit down.

Come on, and do your best to fright us with your sprites.

You're powerful at it. — There was a man...

Nay, come sit down, then on.

..Dwelt by a churchyard.

I will tell it softly.

Yond crickets shall not hear it!

HERMIONE: Come on then. Ah!

And give't me in mine ear.

There came moon calves and goblins and unseen creatures of the night...

LEONTES: Polixenes has fled. Camillo with him?

Behind the tuft of pines I met them. Never saw I men scour so on their way.

I eyed them even to their ships.

How blest am I in my just censure, in my true opinion!

How accursed in being so blest!

There may be in the cup a spider steeped,

and one may drink, depart, and yet partake no venom,

for his knowledge is not infected.

But if one present the abhorred ingredient to his eye...

..make known how he hath drunk,

he cracks his gorge, his sides, with violent hefts!

I have drunk, and seen the spider.

Camillo was his help in this, his pander.

There is a plot against my life.

[LAUGHING]

[ALL JOIN IN LAUGHTER] ..my crown.

All's true that is mistrusted.

That false villain whom I employed was pre-employed by him.

He has discovered my designs, and I remain a pinched thing, yea,

a very trick for them to play at will.

Give me the boy. I am glad you did not nurse him.

Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you have too much blood in him.

What is this? Sport?

Bear the boy hence.

Away with him. He shall not come about her.

Away with him, and let her sport herself with that she is big with,

for it is Polixenes hath made you swell thus.

But I'd say he had not.

[SHE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY]

And I'll be sworn thou woulds't believe my saying, howe'er you lean to the nayward.

You, my lords, look on her, mark her well.

Be but about to say, "She is a goodly lady,"

and the justice of your hearts will thereto add

"tis pity she's not honest, honourable."

Praise her but for this

her without-door form,

which on my faith deserves high speech,

and straight the shrug, the hums and ha's,

these petty brands that calumny doth use

I am out, that mercy does, for calumny will sear virtue itself

these shrugs, these hums and ha's, when you have said she is goodly,

come between ere you can say she is honest.

But be it known, from him that has most cause to grieve it should be,

she is an adulteress.

You, my lord, do but mistake.

You have mistook, my lady, Polixenes for Leontes.

You thing, that I'll not call a creature.

I have said she is an...

— ..adulteress! — Ow!

I have said with whom.

More, she is a traitor!

And Camillo is a federary with her, and privy to this their late escape.

No, by my life, privy to none of this!

How will this grieve you, when you shall come to clearer knowledge,

that you thus have published me! — Away with her to prison.

He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty but that he speaks.

There's some ill planet reigns.

I must be patient till the heavens look with an aspect more favourable.

Good my lords, I am not prone to weeping,

as our sex commonly are... [CRIES OUT IN PAIN]

But I have that honourable grief lodged here which burns worse than tears drown.

Who is 't that goes with me?

Beseech your Highness my women may be with me, for you see my plight requires it.

[MAMILLIUS SOBBING]

Do not weep, good fool. There is no cause.

When you shall know your mother has deserved prison,

then abound in tears as I come out.

This action I now go on is for my better grace.

Adieu, my lord.

I never wished to see you sorry, now I trust I shall.

My women, comeyou have leave.

[MAMILLIUS SOBBING GENTLY] Shh. Ssh. It's all right.

Daddy's here.

Go and do my bidding. Hence.

Ohh!

Beseech your Highness? Call the queen again.

Be certain what you do, sir,

lest your justice prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer

yourself, your queen, your son.

For her, my lord, I dare my life lay down...

The queen is spotless in the eyes of heaven, and to you.

If it prove true then every inch of woman in the world,

ay, every dram of woman's flesh, is false, if she be....

Hold your peaces! — DION: Good my lord...

ANTIGONUS: It is for you we speak, not for ourselves.

You are abused, and by some putter-on I have three daughters

the eldest is eleven, the second and the third, nine and some five.

If this prove true, they'll pay for it. By mine honour, I'll geld 'em all.

Cease. No more.

You smell this business with a sense as cold as is a dead man's nose.

But I do see it and feel it.

If it be so, we need no grave to bury honesty.

What?

Lack I credit?

Why, what need we commune with you in this?

Our prerogative needs not your counsels but our natural goodness imparts this.

I here in post dispatch to sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,

Cleomenes and Dion.

Now from the oracle they will bring all,

whose spiritual counsel had shall stop or spur me.

Have I done well? — Well done, my lord.

Though I am satisfied and need no more than what I know,

yet shall the oracle give rest to the minds of others.

Dear gentlewoman, how fares our gracious lady?

She is something before her time delivered.

A boy? — A daughter!

[BABY CRYING]

And a goodly babe, lusty and like to live.

The queen receives much comfort in it,

says "My poor prisoner, I am innocent as you."

I dare be sworn. These dangerous unsafe lunes in the king, beshrew them!

He must be told on it, and he shall. The office becomes my station best.

I'll show it the king. I'll advocate to the loudest.

We do not know how he may soften at the sight o' th' child.

Give me the baby.

[BABY CRIES]

I'll take it in charge.

Nor night nor day no rest.

It is but weakness to bear the matter thus, mere weakness.

If the cause were not in beingwell, part of the cause

she the adulteress, for the harlot king is quite beyond mine arms,

out of her blank and level of my brain, plot-proof.

But she I can hook to me.

What if she were gone, given to the fire?

A moiety of my rest might come to me again.

SERVANT: My lord. — Who's there? Oh! How fares the boy?

He hath took good rest tonight. 'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.

To see his nobleness, conceiving the dishonour of his mother.

He straight declined, drooped, took it deeply.

He fastened and fixed the shame on it in himself,

threw off his appetite, his spirit, and downright languished.

Go. Leave me solely.

Tend to the boy.

Fie, fie, no thought of him.

The very thought of my revenges that way recoil upon me.

Camillo and Polixenes laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow.

Well, they would not laugh if I could reach them,

nor shall my wife within my power.

You must not enter.

Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, than the queen's life?

ANTIGONUS: That's enough. — Madam, he hath not slept tonight.

I come to bring him sleep.

'Tis such as you that creep like shadows by him.

Such as you do nourish the cause of his awaking.

What noise there, ho? — No noise, my lord,

but needful conference. — How? Away with this audacious lady.

Antigonus, I charged you she should not come about me. I knew that she would.

I told her so, my lord, she should not visit you.

Canst not rule her? — From all dishonesty he can.

In this, unless he take the course that you have done

commit me for committing honourtrust it, he shall not rule me.

La you now, you hear. When she will take the rein I let her run.

Good my liege, I come from your good queen.

Good queen? — Good queen, my lord, good queen.

I say "good queen." — Force her hence.

On mine own accord I'll off, but first I'll do my errand.

The good queen, for she is good, hath brought you forth a...daughter.

Here 'tiscommends it to your blessing.

[BABY CRIES]

No?

Oh, she's...

No. Out!

A mankind witch!

Hence with her, out of door.

Traitors, will you not push her out?

Oh, you...dotard.

Thou art woman-tired, unroosted by thy dame Partlet here.

Take up this bastard. Take it up, I say.

And give 't to thy crone.

For ever unvenerable be thy hands if thou tak'st up the Princess.

He dreads his wife. — So I would you did.

Then 'twere past all doubt you'd call your children yours.

A nest of traitors! — I am none, by this good light.

Nor I, nor any but one that's here, and that's himself.

Me? — For he the sacred honour of himself,

his queen's, his hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander.

A callet of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband and now baits me?

This brat is none of mine!

[SOBBING] It is the issue of Polixenes.

Hence with it, and together with the dam you commit them to the fire.

It is yours, and so like you it is the worse.

Behold, my lords. My lords, although the print be little,

the whole matter and copy of the father.

Eye, nose, lip, the trick of its frown,

his forehead, nay, the valley,

the pretty dimples of his chin and cheek,

his smiles, the very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.

A gross hag! And, losel!

Thou art worthy to be hanged that wilt not stay her tongue.

Hang all the husbands that cannot do that feat,

you'll leave yourself hardly one subject.

Once more, take her hence.

A most unworthy and unnatural lord can do no more.

I'll have you burnt. — I care not.

It is an heretic that makes the fire, not she which burns in it.

On your allegiance, out of this chamber with her!

I pray you do not push me. I'll be gone.

Look to your babe, my lord, 'tis yours.

Jove send her a better guiding spirit.

What needs these hands?

You that are thus so tender o'er his follies

will never do him good, not one of you.

So, so.

Farewell. We are gone.

Thou, traitor, hast set thy wife on to this.

My child? Away with it!

Even thou, that hast a heart so tender over it, take it up straight,

and see it instantly consumed with fire.

Shh, shh, shh.

I am a feather for each wind that blows.

Let it live.

No, no, no! It shall not neither! You, sir, come you hither.

You that have been so tenderly officious to save this bastard's life

for it is a bastardwhat would you adventure to save this brat's life?

Anything, my lord, that my ability might undergo.

I'd pawn the little blood which I have left to save the innocent.

Anything possible.

It shall be possible.

Swear you will perform my bidding. — I will, my lord.

Thou shalt take this female bastard hence.

Thou shall't bear it to some remote and desert place

quite out of our dominions, and there thou shall't leave it,

without more mercy, to its own protection and favour of the climate.

Go and take it up. — I swear to do this.

Though a present death had been more merciful.

Come on, poor babe.

Some powerful spirit instruct the wolves and bears to be thy nurses!

Sir...

Be prosperous.

No, I'll not rear another's issue.

Delphos is delicate.

[♪ SOLEMN MUSIC]

The air most sweet, fertile the isle,

the temple much surpassing the common praise it bears.

O, the sacrifice, how ceremonious, solemn,

and unearthly it was in the offering!

But of all, the burst and the ear-deafening voice of the oracle,

kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense that I was nothing.

If the event of the journey prove as successful to the queen...

O, be it so!

..as it hath been to us, rare, pleasant, speedy, the tune is worth the use on it.

LEONTES: Prepare you lords. Summon a sessions

that we might arraign our most disloyal lady.

This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,

even pushes 'gainst our heart.

The party tried the daughter of a king, our wife, and one of us too much beloved.

Let us be cleared of being tyrannous, since we so openly proceed in justice,

which shall have due course even to the guilt or the purgation.

Produce the prisoner.

Silence. — Read the indictment.

Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, King of Sicilia,

thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason,

in committing adultery with Polixenes, King of Bohemia,

and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king,

thy royal husband.

[PAPERS SHUFFLE]

[FOOTSTEPS WALK AWAY]

Since what I am to say must be but that which contradicts my accusation,

and the testimony on my part no other but what comes from myself,

it shall scarce boot me to say "Not guilty."

Mine integrity, being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, be so received.

But thusif powers divine behold our human actions, as they do,

I doubt not then but innocence shall make false accusation blush.

You, my lord, best know...

..who least will seem to do so,

my past life hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,

as I am now unhappy.

For behold me!

A fellow of the royal bed, which owe a moiety of the throne,

a great king's daughter, the mother to a hopeful prince,

here standing to prate and talk for life and honour

fore who please to come and hear.

I appeal to your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes came to your court,

how I was in your grace, how merited to be so.

Since he came, with what encounter so uncurrent

I have strained to appear thus.

If one jot beyond the bounds of honour, or in act or will that way inclining...

..hardened be the hearts of all who hear me,

and my nearest of kin cry fie upon my grave.

I ne'er heard yet that any of these bolder vices

wanted less impudence to gainsay what they did than to perform it first.

That's true enough, though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

You will not own it.

More than mistress of which comes to me in name of fault,

I must not at all acknowledge.

For Polixenes with whom I am accused,

I do confess I loved him as in honour he required,

with such a kind of love as might become a lady like me,

with a love even such, so and no other, as yourself commanded.

Now, for conspiracy...

I know not how it tastes, though it be dished for me to try how.

You knew of his departure,

as you know what you have underta'en to do in his absence.

Sir!

You speak a language that I understand not.

My life stands in the level of your dreams, which I'll lay down.

Your actions are my dreams.

You had a bastard by Polixenes, and I but dreamed it.

For as you were past all shamethose of your fact are so

so past all truth, which to deny concerns more than avails.

As thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, no father owning it

which is indeed more criminal in thee than itso you shall feel our justice,

in whose easiest passage look for no less than death.

Sir, spare your threats.

The bug which you would fright me with I seek.

To me can life be no commodity.

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour...

..I do give lost, for I do feel it gone, but know not how it went.

My second joy and first fruits of my body,

from his presence I am barred like one infectious.

My third comfort, born most unluckily, is from my breast, flung out to murder.

Myself on every post proclaimed a strumpet.

With immodest hatred the childbed privilege denied,

which 'longs to women of all fashion.

Lastly, hurried here to this place, i' th' open air,

before I have got strength of limit.

Now, my liege.

Tell me what blessings I have here alive, that I should fear to die?

Therefore proceed.

But yet hear this.

Mistake me not, no life, I prize it not a straw,

but for mine honour, which I would free,

if I am to be condemned upon surmises,

all proofs sleeping else but what your jealousies awake,

I tell you 'tis rigour, and not law.

Your honours all, I do refer me to the oracle.

Apollo be my judge.

Bring forth, and in Apollo's name, his oracle.

You here, Cleomenes and Dion,

shall swear that you have been both at Delphos,

and from thence have brought this sealed-up oracle,

delivered by the hand of great Apollo's priest, and since then

you have not dared to break the holy seal nor read the secrets in 't.

CLEOMENES/DION: All this we swear. — Break up the seals and read.

"Hermione is chaste.

"Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject,

"Leontes a jealous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten."

[LAUGHING]

[CHOKING]

[LAUGHING]

[LAUGHTER TURNS TO SOBS]

Shh!

[LEONTES WHIMPERS]

Shh, shh, shh.

"And the King shall live without an heir if that which is lost be not found."

Hast thou read truth? — Ay, my lord,

even so as it is here set down.

But my son lives stilla promising and worthy prince.

There is no truth at all in this oracle. The sessions shall proceed.

SERVANT: My lord the king, the king! — What is the business?

SERVANT: O sir, I shall be hated to report it.

The prince, your son, with mere conceit and fear of the queen's speed, is gone.

How gone? — Is dead.

[THUNDER CRASHES]

LEONTES: Apollo is angry,

and the heavens themselves do strike at my injustice!

PAULINA: This news is mortal to the queen.

Look down and see what death is doing.

Her heart is but o'ercharged. She will recover.

I have too much believed mine own suspicion.

Beseech you, tenderly apply to her some remedies for life.

[FOOTSTEPS RUNNING]

[LEONTES SOBBING]

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

No! No, no, no!

[SOBBING] Oh, no, no, no!

Apollo, pardon me my great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle.

I will reconcile me to Polixenes.

I will new woo my queen.

I will recall the good Camillo,

whom I proclaim to be a man of truth...of mercy.

[DISTANT THUNDER RUMBLES]

[HE SOBS]

[HE WAILS]

What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?

What wheels, racks, fires?

What flaying? Boiling in leads or oils?

What old or newer torture must I receive,

whose every word deserves to taste of thy most worst?

Thy tyranny, together working with thy jealousies,

fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle for girls of nine.

O, think what they have done, and then run mad indeed, stark mad.

O, when I have said, cry woe!

The queen, the queen, the sweetest, dearest creature

is...

dead.

I say she is dead.

I'll swear it. If word nor oath prevail not, go and see.

If you can bring tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,

heat outwardly or breath within, I will serve you as I would do the gods.

But, O thou tyrant,

do not repent these things. — But I do!

For they are heavier than all thy woes can stir.

Therefore betake thee to nothing but despair.

Go on, go on. You cannot speak enough.

I have deserved all tongues to talk their bitterest.

Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman.

The love I bore your queen... Lo, fool again!

I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children.

Take your patience to you, and I'll say nothing.

Thou didst speak but well when most the truth.

Prithee, lead me to the dead bodies of my queen and son.

One grave shall be for both.

Upon it shall the cause of their deaths appear, unto our shame perpetual.

Once a day I will visit the chapel where they lie

and tears shed there shall be my recreation.

[STORM RAGES, MEN SHOUT]

ANTIGONUS: Thou art perfect, then.

Our ship hath touched upon the deserts of Bohemia?

So long as nature will bear up with this exercise, so long I daily vow to use it.

MARINER: Ay, my lord. I fear we have landed in ill time.

I stand as one upon a rock environed with a wilderness of sea.

MARINER: The skies look grimly and threaten present blusters.

LEONTES: Come, and lead me to these sorrows.

ANTIGONUS: Go thou away. I'll follow instantly.

[BABY CRYING]

Come, poor babe.

I have heard, but not believed, the spirits of the dead may walk again.

If such thing be, thy mother appeared to me last night,

for ne'er was dream so like a waking.

To me comes a creature,

sometimes her head on one side, some another.

I never saw a vessel of like sorrow, so filled and so becoming.

In pure white robes, like very sanctity, she did approach my cabin where I lay,

thrice bowed before me, and, gasping to begin some speech,

her eyes became two spouts.

The fury spent, anon did this break from her

"Good Antigonus, since fate, against thy better disposition,

"hath made thy person for the thrower-out of my poor babe,

"according to thine oath, places remote enough are in Bohemia.

"There weep, and leave it crying.

"And, for the babe is counted lost forever...

HERMIONE: [WHISPERS] Perdita. — "Perdita I prithee call it.

"For this ungentle business put on thee by my lord,

"thou ne'er shall see thy wife Paulina more."

Dreams are toys.

Blossom.

Speed thee well.

There lie.

And there thy character.

There these, which may, if fortune please,

both breed thee, pretty, and still rest thine.

[CRASH OF THUNDER]

The storm begins.

Poor wretch, that for thy mother's faults

art thus exposed to loss and what may follow.

[SAVAGE ROAR & THUNDER CRASH]

A savage clamour! Well may I get aboard!

[ROARS & SCREAMS]

[CLAMOUR FADES]

[IRISH ACCENT] Da?

Da!

[CRASH OF THUNDER]

What?

Some say your sheep is your most doltish beast,

but such a one ne'er saw the like of mine

who plot and intrigue with a politician's craft, tormenting me unto a death of care.

The ewe will trap and mesh herself in thorns

but pull her backwards screeching from the hedge,

her brother teeters o'er the edge of the towering cliff

to blink at ravenous sea or gambols off to frolick 'neath the hooves of yonder bull.

But though these beasts do have the devil's wit,

when I do dream one cries in cruel thorns or straying bleats at blank-eyed moon,

I wake to weep till my lost sheep be found.

[BABY CRYING]

But what have we here?

Mercy on'sit's a bairn!

Oh! It's a very pretty bairn!

This has been some out of wedlock work, some privvy bed work.

Oh, you never know who will be lurking about here.

Strange ships do put in on these shores and you do have to keep your eyes open.

A boy or a child, I wonder?

Oh, it's a pretty one! [HE CHUCKLES]

It's a very pretty one. This has been some secret stair work.

Gracious! Some dirty behind door work. Oh, you ittle lambkin.

They were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here!

I'll take it up for pity.

Joy will root and cleave my old wife's heart,

who ne'er beheld a daughter but in dreams.

Yet I'll tarry till me son come. He hallooed but even now.

CLOWN: Hilloa, loa! SHEPHERD: What art so near?

If thou'lt see a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten. Come hither.

I have seen such a sight! Come see him. O, the most piteous cry of the poor soul.

There's blood everywhere. He's calling out to me.

He's saying his name's Antigonus, a nobleman.

I want you to see the poor gentleman roaring and the bear chewing on him!

Name of Mercy! When was this? — Now!

The bear is not yet half dined on the gentleman. He's at it now.

Heavy matters. Heavy matters. But look thee here, boy.

Now bless thyself.

Here's a sight for thee. Look theea bearing cloth for a squire's child.

Look thee here. Take up, take up, boy. Open it, so let's see.

It was told me I should be rich by the fairies.

This is some changeling. Open it. What's within?

Gold! All gold!

This is fairy gold, boy, and t'will prove so.

Up with it. Keep it close.

We are lucky, boy, and to be so still requires nothing but secrecy.

Home. Home the next way. — What about the sheep?

Let me sheep go! Come good, boy, the next way home.

Go you the next way with your findings.

I'll go see if the bear be finished with the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten.

O, they are never curst but when they are hungry.

If there be anything left I'll bury it. — That's a good deed.

Fetch me to the sight of him.

And you shall help to put him in the ground.

'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds on it.

Now bless thyself.

Thou met'st with things dying.

I with things newborn.

[BABY CRYING]

[BABY'S CRY ECHOES]

'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds on it.

Now bless thyself.

Thou met'st with things dying.

I with things newborn.

[THUNDER]

[BABY CRYING]

[CRYING STOPS]

[CLOCK GENTLY CHIMING]

I, that please some, try all.

Be not affronted that my name is Time.

And if I use my wings, impute it not a crime to me,

or my swift passage,

that I slide o'er sixteen years,

and leave the growth untried as you had slept between.

Leontes leaving the effects of his fond jealousies

so grieving that he shuts himself up.

Imagine me,

gentle spectators, that I now may be in far Bohemia!

[??MUSIC]

From Sicilia leagues away, where King Polixenes doth still keep sway.

To serve his new king,

Camillo leaves undone nought to guard Florizel, Polixenes' son.

And now with speed so pace to speak of Perdita,

now grown in grace equal with wondering.

What of her ensues I will not prophesy.

But let Time's news be known

when 'tis brought forth a shepherd's daughter,

but a daughter to a king.

And what to her adheres, which follows after, is the argument of Time.

AUTOLYCUS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

[HE STRUMS THE GUITAR]

Welcome...to tonight's entertainment.

Down here at the front, how's it going?

Youse enjoying yourself so far?

(LAUGHTER)

You had enough of that serious stuff yet? You ready for a bit of fun?

What about the poor people up there in the cheap seats? Can you hear me all right?

(WHOOPING)

I said, can you hear me all right? (CHEERING)

Tough crowd, tough crowd.

I'd like to say just how wonderful it is

to have so many good-looking people out there in the audience this evening.

I'd like to say... (LAUGHTER)

But, first things first. Welcome to Bohemia.

When daffodils begin to appear

With hey-ho, the doxy o'er the dale

Why, then comes in the sweet O' the year

For the red blood reigns In the winter's pale

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge

With a hey-ho, the sweet birds how they sing!

Doth set my rutting tooth on edge

For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. ♪

Believe it or not, folks, this is actually one of Bohemia's most famous rhapsodies.

(LAUGHTER)

So if you know the words and you feel like you'd like to sing along...

Don't. (LAUGHTER)

You'll only screw it up.

The lark that tirra-lirra chants With hey, with hey

The thrush and the jay

Are summer songs for me and my aunts While we lie tumbling in the hay

Here we go!

Shall I go mourn for that, my dear? The pale moon shines by night

And when I wander here and there

I then do most go right I then do most go right

I then do most go right I then do most go right. ♪

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

My father named me Autolycus,

who, being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise

a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

See, my revenue is the silly cheat. I'll take my pleasures before I die.

For the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it.

[TINNY MUSIC THROUGH EARPHONES]

A prize. A prize!

If the trap hold, the cock's mine.

RECORDED VOICE OF CLOWN: 'Hello!

'If you are hearing this, you've probably forgotten

'what you're meant to be buying for the sheep-shearing feast.

'I wrote it down somewhere...

'Ah. Three pound of sugar,

'five pound of currants, rice...

'What will this sister of mine do with rice?

'But me father hath made her mistress of the feast, and she lays it on.

'She certainly does. I must have nutmegs, seven.

'A race or two of ginger, and four pound of prunes.

'Now you're probably a bit annoyed at yourself

'for forgetting what you're meant to be buying, so as a little treat,

'I hid a bar of Dairy Milk chocolate in your arse pocket.

'Go, have it there. You deserve it...'

O, that ever I was born!

I am robbed, sir, and beaten, my money ta'en from me.

But who did this to ye? — Shh! It was strangers!

Strangers? — Yes.

STRANGERS! I'll fecking kill any strangers!

If there are any strangers out there, I'll flatten them! Hold me back, boys.

We won't take it any longer!

[♪ SOFT IRISH MUSIC]

'Tis easy tamed, the wild beast.

No-one is sticking up for the little person any more!

[♪ SOFT IRISH MUSIC]

How blest are we that are not simple men.

It's OK. It's OK. I found this on the way.

Oh, thank you very much, kind sir. — You should be more careful.

There are thieves about! — Have you seen any?

I think I might have seen that rogue, Autolycus.

Autolycus? I would recognise him anywhere.

Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia.

Very true, sir, very true.

Fare thee well. I must go buy spices for our traditional sheep-shearing.

Prosper you, sweet sir.

Well, that was the funny stuff.

Here's another bit to make you cry.

Parting always gives us sorrow It cuts us to the heart

The more we love the more we grieveWhen Time must make us part. ♪

I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more impertinent.

It is a sickness denying thee anything, a death to grant this.

It is fifteen years since I saw my country.

Though I have for the most part been aired abroad,

I desire to lay my bones there.

Besides, the penitent Leontes, my former master, hath sent for me,

to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay.

As thou lov'st me, Camillo,

wipe not out the rest of thy services by leaving me now.

Of that fatal country Sicilia, prithee speak no more,

whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance of that penitent,

as thou call'st him, and reconciled king, Leontes.

Say to me, when sawst thou the Prince Florizel, my son?

CAMILLO: Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince.

I have missingly noted he is of late much retired from court.

I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some care.

And I have this intelligence

that my son is seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd,

a man, they say, that from very nothing,

and beyond the imagination of his neighbours

has acquired a prodigious fortune.

CAMILLO: I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a son

and a daughter of most rare note.

The report of her is extended more

than can be thought to begin from such a cottage.

POLIXENES: That's likewise part of my intelligence.

Thou shalt accompany us to the place, where we shall,

not appearing what we are,

have some question with these country folk,

from whose simplicity I think it not uneasy

to get the cause of my son's resort thither.

SHEPHERD: Will you pack it in?

POLIXENES: Prithee be my present partner in this business,

and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.

We must attend their sheep shearing in disguise.

[♪ JOLLY, PASTORAL MUSIC]

[EXCITED GREETINGS]

[THEY SQUEAL]

This your strange finery to each part of you does give a life

no shepherdess, but Flora peering in April's front.

This your sheep-shearing is as a meeting of the petty gods and you the queen on 't.

[IRISH ACCENT] Sir, my gracious lord,

to chide at your extremes it not becomes me.

O, pardon that I name them!

Your high self, the gracious mark of the land,

you have obscured with a swain's wearing,

and me, poor lowly maid, most goddesslike pranked up.

I should blush to see you so attired, swoon I think, to show myself a glass.

I bless the time when my good falcon made her flight across thy father's ground.

Even now I tremble to think your father by some accident

should pass this way as you did.

O the Fates, how should he look to see his work, so noble, vilely arrayed?

What would he say? Or how should I, in these my borrowed flaunts,

behold the sternness of his presence?

Apprehend nothing but jollity.

The gods themselves, humbling their deities to love,

have taken the shapes of beasts upon them.

Jupiter became a bull, and bellowed.

The green Neptune, a ram, and bleated.

And the fire-robed god, golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, as I seem now.

[CHEERING]

Their transformations were never for a piece of beauty rarer.

O, but sir, your resolution cannot hold when 'tis opposed,

as it must be, by th' power of the king.

Thou dearest Perdita,

with these forced thoughts I prithee darken not the mirth of the feast.

For I cannot be mine own, nor anything to any, if I be not thine.

More guests are coming.

Be merry, gentle.

Strangle such thoughts as these.

[MUSIC STOPS SUDDENLY]

[THUNDER RUMBLES]

Welcome, sirs. Welcome to our sheepshearing.

Daughter, you must bid them welcome.

RUSTIC ACCENT: Good e'en, sir. — Welcome to you both.

Pray, rest yourselves and let us be hospitable.

Make yourselves at home.

Son, quickly, bring these gentlemen a drink.

Fie, daughter, we have unexpected guests. Look to it.

Welcome, sir. Welcome, sir.

Sure, it fills me heart with joy to welcome strangers to me home.

When my old wife lived upon this same day

not twelve months since we gave her to the all-accepting earth.

On this same day, did these twain bidst their mother farewell

and 'gin their toil of loss.

She was both pantler, butler, cook. [MURMURS OF AGREEMENT]

Both dame and servant. She welcomed all, served all.

Would sing her song and dance her turn,

now here at upper end o' th' table, now in the middle.

On her shoulder. — Yeah.

And even on his! [LAUGHTER]

Her face a-fire with labour.

And the drink...

O, the drink she took to quench it she would to each one sip.

But you, my daughter Perdita, are retired

as if you were a feasted one and not the hostess of the meeting.

Pray you bid these unknown friends to 's welcome.

For it is a way to make us better friends, more known.

Welcome, sir.

It is my father's will I should take on me the hostess-ship of the day,

as did my mother from year to year till last.

You're welcome, sir.

Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.

Reverend sirs, for you...

..there's rosemary.

And...

..rue.

These keep seeming and savour all the winter long.

Grace and remembrance. [ALL MUTTER "REMEMBRANCE"]

And welcome to our shearing.

Come, you must quench your blushes and take your mother's place.

Present yourself that which you are, the mistress o' th' feast.

Always time waltzes by

ALL: ♪ Time rushes past

And my dreaming heart will break

But though time presses on

She's waiting for us to wake

She's just waiting for us to wake. ♪

POLIXENES: Shepherdess, a fair one are you

and well you fit our ages with flowers of winter.

PERDITA: Sir, the year growing ancient, not yet on summer's death

nor on the birth of trembling winter,

the fairest flowers of the season are our carnations and streaked gillyvors,

which some call nature's bastards.

Of that kind our rustic garden's barren, and I care not to get slips of them.

Wherefore, gentle maiden, do you neglect them?

For I have heard it said there is an art which in their piedness

shares with great creating nature.

O! Great creating nature! Say there be,

yet nature is made better by no means but nature makes those means.

So, over that art which you say adds to nature is an art that nature makes.

You see, sweet maid, we marry a gentler scion to the wildest stock,

and make conceive a bark of baser kind by bud of nobler race.

This is an art which does mend nature,

change it rather,

but the art itself is nature. — So it is.

Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, and do not call them bastards.

I'll not put the dibble in earth to set a slip of one of them!

No more than, were I painted,

I would wish this youth would say 'twere well,

and only therefore desire to breed by me!

SHEPHERD: Daughter!

I beg your pardon, sirs.

Here's flowers for you.

Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram,

the marigold, that goes to bed wi' th' sun and with him rises weeping.

These are flowers of middle summer,

and I think they are given to men of middle age.

You're very welcome, sir.

And now to you, my fairest friend.

I would I had some flowers of the spring,

that might become your time of day, and yours, and yours, that wear upon your...

ALL: Virgin branches!

[MUSIC STARTS AGAIN]

PERDITA: Daffodils, that come before the swallow dares,

and take the winds of March with beauty.

Violets dim, but sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes or Cytherea's breath.

Pale primroses, that die unmarried

ere they can behold bright Phoebus in his strength.

Bold oxlips, lilies of all kinds .

O, these I lack to make you garlands of, my sweet friend,

and to strew you o'er and o'er. — What, like a corpse?

No, like a bank for love to lie and play on, not like a corpse.

Or if not to be buried, but alive and in mine arms.

What you do still betters what is done.

When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever.

When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' th' sea,

that you might ever do nothing but that.

Move...still, still so, and own no other function.

Each your doing, so singular in each particular,

crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, that all your acts are queens.

But come.

Our dance, I pray your hand, my Perdita.

So turtles pair which never mean to part. [♪ SOFT MUSIC]

CAMILLO: Good sooth, she is the queen of curds and cream.

This is the prettiest lowborn lass that ever ran on the green-sward.

Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this which dances with your daughter?

SHEPHERD: He says he loves me daughter.

I think so too, for never gazed the moon upon the water

as he'll stand and read, as 'twere, me daughter's eyes.

And, to be plain,

I think there is not half a kiss to choose who loves another best.

POLIXENES: She dances featly. SHEPHERD: So she does anything.

She shall bring him that which he not dreams of.

[♪ POUNDING ROCK MUSIC]

AUTOLYCUS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,

and welcome back to tonight's entertainment

and to this year's shearing!

How are we all doing at the front? Hello, sir. Madam, what's your name?

What's your name? — Annabel.

Annabel? Beautiful name. Welcome to the sheep-shearing.

How are you? What do you think of the costume change?

OK, now, this way. Follow me! [HE WHOOPS]

Now, OK, here we go.

One, two, one, two, three, four!

Lawn as white as driven snow

Cypress black as e'er was crow

Gloves as sweet as damask roses

Masks for faces and for noses. ♪

This way. Follow me. Over here. Over here, over here.

Sir, help me out.

There you go.

OK now.

Who would like to help me out this evening?

You. What's your name? — Kelly.

Kelly, out you come. — ALL CHANT: Kelly! Kelly! Kelly!

Here we go.

OK. Isn't she lovely? Now liven up. Let's see green. Nice and high.

One, two, one, two, three, four.

Bugle bracelet, necklace amber

Perfume for a lady's chamber

Golden coifs and stomachers

For my lads to give their dears

Pins and poking-sticks of steel What maids lack from head to heel... ♪

[SHOUTING]

Break. [MUSIC STOPS]

MOPSA: You promised them me before. — Girls, girls, girls!

DORCAS: He hath promised you more than that or there be liar.

MOPSA: Maybe he has paid you more which will shame you to give him again.

CLOWN: Is there no manners left among maids

but you must be tittle-tattling before all our guests?

It seems like we have a family problem. It's time to talk.

(APPLAUSE)

Hello, everybody. How are we doing? Hello up the back.

Let's get this show on the road. Hello, young mistress. Over here.

What's your name?

Mopsa. — Mopsa.

I'm his sweetheart.

[WHOOPING AND APPLAUSE]

His sweetheart. And what brings you hence today, young Mopsa?

He promised me a necklace and a pair of sweet gloves.

[GASPS]

Both in much demand. The riposte...

Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the way and lost all my money?

[JEERING]

And indeed, sir, there are villains abroad.

All's true that is mistrusted.

Therefore it behoves men to be wary.

[CHEERING]

Sweetheart number two. — Dorcas!

Dorcas. What brings you hence today, my lovely?

He is always promising me all kinds of things, but he never gave me anything.

[BOOS]

What do you have to say for yourself, young man?

This is the first time I've ever heard her complaining about what I give her!

[JEERING]

When you could get it up! — Oh, dear! OK, come on.

He got it up for me.

I'm carrying his child! [GASPS]

That's not my baby! I'm not the father and don't you dare tell my dad!

You just did. Let's bring him out.

Bring him out! Bring him out! Bring him out!

[CROWD CATCALLS]

Weary sir, what would you like to add?

You shame me, son, for being a blaggard and a wastrel.

Let's hear from the rest of the family.

The sister, come on. What do you think your brother should do?

I think he should choose.

She thinks he should choose.

ALL CHANT: Choose! Choose!

CLOWN: Do you know what, Perdita? You're not even really my sister.

Me and Dad found you, abandoned.

You weren't even born here. You're a STRANGER!

[GASPS]

Da, are you not my real da? — You will always be my daughter

and I will always love you. — Hang on!

You ignorant fecking plike!

[SHOUTING & LOUD MUSIC]

[♪ ROCK]

[MUSIC DROWNS OUT SPEECH]

MOPSA: Come on, Dorcas.

[DORCAS SHRIEKS]

[MUSIC THUMPING THROUGH WALL]

POLIXENES: How now, fair shepherd?

Your heart is full of something that does take your mind from feasting.

Sooth, when I was young and handed love, as you do,

I was wont to load my she with knacks.

I would have ransacked the peddler's silken treasury

and poured it to her acceptance.

You have let him go and nothing marted with him.

Old sir...

I know she prizes not such trifles as these are.

The gifts she looks from me are packed and locked up in my heart,

which I have given alreadybut not delivered!

(LAUGHTER)

O, hear me breathe my life before this ancient sir, who,

it should seem, had sometime loved.

I take thy hand.

This hand as soft as dove's down and as white as it, or Ethiopian's tooth,

or the fanned snow that's bolted by northern blasts twice o'er.

And what follows this? Let me hear what you profess.

Do, and be witness to it. — And this my neighbour too?

And he, and more than he, and menthe earth, the heavens, and all...

..that were I crowned the most imperial monarch,

thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth that ever made eye swerve,

had force and knowledge more than was ever man's,

I would not prize them without her love.

But my daughter.

(LAUGHTER)

Say you like to him?

I can't speak so well, nothing so well, nor mean better.

Take hands, a bargain.

And, friends unknown, you shall be witness to it.

I give me daughter to him and will make her dowry equal his.

One being dead, I shall have more than you can dream of yet.

Enough then for your wonder.

But come on, contract us before these witnesses.

Come, your hand. And daughter, yours.

POLIXENES: Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you.

Have you a father?

I have, but what of him? — Knows he of this?

He neither does nor shall.

Methinks a father is at the nuptial of his son a guest that best becomes the table.

I pray you once moreis your father grown incapable of reasonable affairs?

Is he stupid with age and altering rheums? Can he speak? Hear?

Knows he man from man? Disputes his own estate?

Lies he not bedrid, and again does nothing but what he did being childish?

No, old sir.

He has his health and ampler strength indeed than most have of his age.

By my white beard, you offer him, if this be so,

a wrongsomething unfilial.

My son, reason should choose himself a wife, but as good reason,

the father should hold some counsel in this business.

I yield all this, but for some other reasons, most grave sir,

which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint my father with this.

Let him know it. — No. He shall not.

Prithee let him. — No, he must not.

Let him, my son.

He shall not need to grieve at knowing of thy choice.

Come, come, he shall not. Now mark our contract...

Mark your divorce, young sir, whom son I dare not call!

Thou art too base to be acknowledged.

Thou a sceptre's heir that thus affects a sheep-hook!

And you, old traitor,

I am sorry that by hanging thee I can but shorten thy life one week.

And you, fresh piece of excellent witchcraft,

whom of force must know the royal fool thou cop'st with.

I'll have thy beauty scratched with briers

and made more homely than thy state.

For thee, fond boy, we'll bar thee from succession,

not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, and you...!

Enchantment, worthy enough a herdsman if ever henceforth thou

these rural latches to his entrance open,

or hoop his body more with thy embraces,

I will devise a death as cruel for thee as thou art tender to it.

Will 't please you, sir, be gone?

I told him what would come of this.

Beseech you, of your own state, take care.

This dream of minebeing now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther.

I cannot think, nor speak, nor dare to know that which I know.

O, sir, you have undone a man that thought to fill his grave in quiet,

yea, to die upon the bed my father died, and lie close by his honest bones.

But now some hangman must put on my shroud

and lay me where no priest shovels in dust.

O, you...

..curséd wretch...

..that knew'st this was the prince.

Undone.

Undone!

Why look you so upon me? I am nothing altered.

What I was, I am.

How often have I told you 'twould be thus?

We cannot fail but by the violation of my faith.

Gracious my lord!

Camillo? — Even he, my lord.

If you may please to think I love the king and, through him, what's nearest to him,

which is your gracious self,

I'll point you where you shall enjoy your mistress, marry her,

and with my best endeavours in your absence,

your discontenting father strive to qualify and bring him up to like her.

How, Camillo, may this, almost a miracle, be done?

Have you thought on a place whereto you'll go?

Not any yet. — Then list to me.

This followsif you will not change your purpose but undergo this flight,

make for Sicilia,

and there present yourself and your fair princess,

for so she must seem before Leontes.

Worthy Camillo, preserver of my father and now of me.

Hark! Perdita!

CAMILLO: What I'll do next shall be to tell Polixenes of his son's escape,

and whither they are bound.

Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail to force him after,

in whose company I shall see again Leontes,

for whose sight I have a woman's longing.

Fortune speed us! Thus we set on.

[♪ GUITAR CHORD]

[STRUMMING]

Enough of that serious stuff, you lot. Go on, get out of here.

Lovers weep When they do part

Unless they dream of gold

For what is in their purse will hold But it never breaks the heart

No, it never breaks the heart. ♪

Here we go again. — See what has become of you now?

There is no other way but for you to tell the king

she's none of our flesh and blood and none of his nation.

Nay, but hear me. — Nay, but hear me!

Go to, then. — She being none of your flesh and blood,

your flesh and blood hath not offended the king,

and so your flesh and blood is not to be punished by him.

Show those secret foreign things you found about her. All but what she has with her.

This being done, let the law go whistle, I warrant you.

I will tell the king all every word, yea, and his son's pranks too.

That Prince Florizel who, I may say, is no honest man,

neither to his father nor to me.

Very wisely, puppies. — Well, let's to the king.

There is that in this fardel will make him scratch his beard.

Come thy ways and let us prosper in our journey.

[JET ENGINE ROARS]

[BING-BONG]

[DRONING, INDISTINCT AIRPORT ANNOUNCEMENT]

'Boarding now.'

How now, rustics. Whither are you bound?

To the palace, like your worship.

Your affairs there? What...? Ah!

What, with whom, the place of your dwelling, discover!

We are but plain fellows, sir.

I command thee to open thy affair. — My business, sir, is to the king.

The king?

[ELECTRONIC GAUGE CLICKS] What's in the fardel?

SHEPHERD: I have not cock, chicken or any other living produce.

(LAUGHTER)

Dost thou have any bodkins? — No, sir.

Dost thou have any rapiers? — No, sir.

Dost thou have any vessels? — No, sir.

Dost thou have any vessels? — Ah, yes, sir.

(LAUGHTER)

Didst pack the fardel thyself, sir? — Yes, sir.

Since thou has packed the fardel thyself,

could any man have tampered with thy fardel?

No, sir. — Wherefore this box?

Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box

which none must know but the king himself.

Well, sayst thou? Is it e'en so?

Have you your long form immigration papers completed?

Yes sir. — In triplicate?

Yes sir. — Good. Let me see.

[AUTOLYCUS IDLY WHISTLES]

[CLEARS THROAT]

Have you your transmissible diseases clearance?

Yes, sir. — Parents' birth certificates?

- Yes, sir! - Astrological charts?

Yes, sir!

Have you your completed and countersigned ZDNX PPR Z32?

Yes, sir!

And have you your completed and countersigned ZDNX PPR Z33?

Yes, sir!

And have you your completed and countersigned ZDNX PPR Z34?

No, sir! Sorry, sir!

Very good. That was a trick question.

Now swear the Sicilian oath.

Bella bella, oopla, oopla, boobeedoo, doopeedoo.

BOTH: Bella bella, oopla, oopla, boobeedoo, doopeedoo.

You're in" Oh, and by the way, give me your P27s.

There we are. — Thank you.

Quickly!

I don't seem to have it, sir.

Don't you have it, Da? — No.

Get that.

Come with me.

(LAUGHTER)

[CLOWN CRIES OUT]

Da! Please! Da!

[SCREAMS WITH PAIN]

Help me! Sir, please!

[SCREAMS STOP]

[AUTOLYCUS IDLY WHISTLES]

Get up.

Hup! Walk before towards the quayside.

We are blessed to have known this man.

Let's before, as he bids us. He was provided to do us good.

Fare ye well, good sirs.

How blest are we that are not simple men.

And so my fool becomes my purse

But I'll not waste my youth in care

The greater fool bears sorrow's curse

And summer days are all too rare. ♪

Sir, you have done enough, and have performed a saintlike sorrow.

Forget your evil. 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 left my kingdom

and destroyed the sweetest companion that e'er man bred his hopes out of.

True, too true, my lord.

If one by one you wedded all the world, to make a perfect woman,

she you killed would be unparalleled. — I think so.

Killed?

She I killed? I did so, but thou strikest me sorely to say I did.

Good lady. You might have spoken a thousand things

that would have done the time more benefit

and graced your kindness better.

You are one of those would have him wed again.

What holier than, for royalty's repair, for present comfort,

and for future good, to bless the bed of majesty again with a sweet fellow to it?

There is none worthy, respecting her that's gone.

Besides, the gods will have fulfilled their secret purposes.

For has not the divine Apollo said, is not the tenor of his oracle,

that King Leontes shall not have an heir...

BOTH: ..till his lost child be found?

Which that it shall is all as monstrous to our human reason

as my Antigonus to break his grave and come again to me,

who, on my life, did perish with the infant.

Good Paulina, who hast the memory of Hermione,

I know, in honour, O, that ever I had squared me to thy counsel!

Then even now might I have looked upon my queen's full eyes,

have taken treasures from her lips...

And left them more rich for what they yielded.

Thou speak'st truth.

No more such wives, therefore no wife.

Will you swear never to marry but by my free leave?

Never, Paulina, till thou bid'st it.

That shall be when your first queen's again in breath. Never till then.

SERVANT: My most gracious sovereign,

one that gives out himself Prince Florizel,

son of Polixenes, King of Bohemia, and his princess,

desires access to your royal presence.

Go, Dion. Bring them to our embracement.

It is strange Polixenes' son thus should steal upon us.

[♪ SOFT MUSIC]

Thy mother was most true to wedlock, prince,

for she did print your royal father off, conceiving you.

Were I but twenty-one, your father's image is so hit in you...

..his very air, that I should call you brother,

and speak of something wildly by us performed...before.

Most dearly welcome, and your fair princess.

Goddess!

O...

Alas, I lost a couple that 'twixt heaven and earth might thus have stood.

Begetting wonder, as you, gracious couple, do.

And then I lostall my own follythe society, amity too,

of your brave father, who, though bearing misery,

I do desire my life once more to look on him.

By his command have I here touched Sicilia,

and from him bring you all greetings that a king, at friend, can send his brother.

[VOICE BREAKING] My brother.

[SOBS]

O, worthy gentleman, the wrongs I have done thee stir afresh within me.

Welcome hither!

As is the spring to the earth.

Good my lord, she is from Libya.

Where the warlike Smalus, that noble honoured lord, is feared and loved?

Most royal sir, from thence.

The blesséd gods purge all infection from our air

whilst you do climate here!

You have a holy father, a graceful gentleman,

against whose person, so sacred as it is, I have done sin,

for which the heavens, taking angry note, have...left me issueless.

But your father is blest, as he from heaven merits it, with you.

Worthy his goodness.

What might I have been, might I a son and daughter now have looked on,

such goodly things as you?

DION: My noble lord,

that which I shall report will bear no credit, were not the proof so nigh.

Please you, great sir, Polixenes greets you from himself by me.

Desires you to arrest his son, who has

his dignity and duty both cast offfled from his father,

from his hopes, and with a shepherd's daughter.

Where is Polixenes? Speak. — Here in your city. I now came from him.

Camillo has betrayed me. — Lay it so to his charge.

He's with the king, your father. — LEONTES: Who? Camillo?

Camillo, sir. I spake with him, just now.

My lord, is this the daughter of a king?

She is when once she is my wife.

That "once", I see, by your good father's speed will come on very slowly.

I am sorry, most sorry, that you have broken from his liking,

where you were tied in duty.

FLORIZEL: Beseech you, sir,

remember since you owed no more to time than I do now.

With thought of such affection, step forth mine advocate.

At your request, my father will grant precious things as trifles.

Would he do so, I would beg your precious mistress, which he accounts but a trifle.

Sir, my liege, your eye hath too much youth in it.

Not a month 'fore your queen died,

she was more worth such gazes than what you look on now.

I thought of her even in these looks I made.

Your petition is yet unanswered.

I will to your father.

Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,

I am friend to them and to you.

Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?

[♪ DRAMATIC MUSIC]

I saw the arrival of the shepherd and his son on our shores.

The old shepherd who stands by

like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns

delivered the manner how he found the babe.

I was by at the opening of the casket.

There is such unity in the proof

that supposes the King Leontes has found his heir.

The jewel of the Queen Hermione's.

The letters of Antigonus found with itwhich they know to be his character

the majesty of the princess in resemblance of her mother.

EMILIA: The oracle is fulfilled. The king's daughter is found!

O, thy mother, thy mother.

EMILIA: Our king being ready to leap out of himself

for joy of his found daughter.

Did you see the meeting of the two kings?

King Polixenes of Bohemia was begged for his forgiveness

by King Leontes, whereupon his pardon freely flowed.

One joy crowned another, so and in such a manner

that it seemed sorrow wept to take leave of them, for their joy waded in tears.

CLEOMENES: Who was most marble there changed colour,

some swooned, all sorrowed.

If all the world could have seen it, the woe had been universal.

DION: Are they returned to the court? — No.

The princess, hearing of her mother's statue,

which is in the keeping of Paulina,

a piece many years in doing and now newly performed

by that rare Italian master, Giulio Romano,

who hath done Hermione

that they say one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer.

Thither with all greediness of affection are they gone,

and there they intend to sup. — DION: Let's along,

LEONTES: O, Paulina, we honour you with trouble.

But we have not seen the statue of our queen.

Your gallery have we passed through,

not without much content in many singularities,

but we saw not that which my daughter came to look upon

the statue of her mother.

PAULINA: As she lived peerless, so her dead likeness, I do well believe,

excels whatever yet you looked upon or hand of man hath done.

Therefore, I keep it lonely apart.

But here it is.

Prepare to see the life as lively mocked as ever still sleep mocked death.

Behold.

PAULINA: I like your silence. It the more shows off your wonder.

Comes it not something near?

Chide me, dear stone, that I may say thou art indeed Hermione.

Or rather, thou art she in thy not chiding,

for she was as tender as infancy and...grace.

But yet, Paulina,

Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing as agéd as this seems.

POLIXENES: O, not by much!

PAULINA: So much the more our carver's excellence,

which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her as she lived now.

LEONTES: As now she might have done.

[VOICE BREAKING] So much to my good comfort as it is now piercing to my soul.

O, thus she stood, even with such life of majesty

warm life, as now it coldly standswhen first I wooed her.

I am ashamed.

Does not the stone rebuke me

for being more stone than it?

There is a magic in thy majesty,

which has my evils conjured to remembrance...

..and from thy admiring daughter took the spirits,

standing like stone with thee.

Lady.

Dear queen, that ended when I but began, give me that hand of yours to kiss.

O, patience! The statue is but newly fixed.

The colour's not dry.

CAMILLO: Your sorrow was too sore laid on,

which sixteen winters cannot blow away.

Dear my brother, let him that was the cause of this

have power to take off so much grief from you.

Indeed, my lord, if I had thought the sight of my poor image

would thus have wrought youfor the stone is mineI'd not have showed it.

Shall I draw the curtain? — LEONTES: No, do not.

PAULINA: No longer shall you gaze on it, lest your fancy may think anon it moves.

LEONTES: Let be.

Let be.

Would I were dead...

..but that methinks already.

What was he that did make it?

See you, my lord, would you not deem it breathed?

And that these veins did verily bear blood?

Masterly done.

My lord's almost so far transported that he'll think anon it lives.

Shall I draw the curtain?

LEONTES: No, not these twenty years.

PERDITA: So long could I stand by, a looker-on.

PAULINA: Either forbear, quit presently the chapel,

or resolve you for more amazement.

If you can behold it,

I'll make the statue move indeed.

It is required that you do awake your faith.

Then all stand still.

Or those that think it is unlawful business I am about, let them depart.

No foot shall stir.

Proceed.

PAULINA: Music.

Awake her!

Strike!

[♪ TICKING BEAT]

[♪ ALL CHANT SOFTLY & WORDLESSLY THROUGHOUT]

PAULINA: 'Tis time.

Descend.

Be stone no more.

Approach.

Strike all that look upon with marvel.

Come, I'll fill your grave up.

Stir, nay, come away.

Bequeath to death your numbness,

for from him dear life redeems you.

Do not shun her until you see her die again,

for then you kill her twice.

O, she's warm!

If this be magic, let it be an art lawful as eating.

PAULINA: Please you to interpose, fair madam.

Kneel and pray your mother's blessing.

Turn, good lady.

Our Perdita is found.

You gods, look down,

and from your sacred vials pour your graces upon my daughter's head.

(APPLAUSE)

(CHEERS AND WHISTLES)

(CHEERS AND WHISTLES)

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The Description of The Winter's Tale Live Capture