<SPEECH 1><ACT 4><SCENE 3><53%>
<PERDITA>	<54%>
	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 o' the land, you have obscur'd
	With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
	Most goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feasts
	In every mess have folly, and the feeders
	Digest it with a custom, I should blush
	To see you so attired,—swoon, I think,
	To show myself a glass.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 4><SCENE 3><53%>
<PERDITA>	<54%>
	Now, Jove afford you cause!
	To me the difference forges dread; your greatness
	Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble
	To think, your father, by some accident,
	Should pass this way as you did. O, the Fates!
	How would he look, to see his work, so noble,
	Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
	Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
	The sternness of his presence?
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 4><SCENE 3><54%>
<PERDITA>	<55%>
	O! but, sir,
	Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
	Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power of the king.
	One of these two must be necessities,
	Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose,
	Or I my life.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 4><SCENE 3><54%>
<PERDITA>	<55%>
	O lady Fortune,
	Stand you auspicious!
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 4><SCENE 3><55%>
<PERDITA>	<56%>
<STAGE DIR>
<To Polixenes.>
</STAGE DIR> Sir, welcome:
	It is my father's will I should take on me
	The hostess-ship o' the day:—<STAGE DIR>
<To Camillo.>
</STAGE DIR> 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 be to you both,
	And welcome to our shearing!
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 4><SCENE 3><55%>
<PERDITA>	<56%>
	Sir, the year growing ancient,
	Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth
	Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season
	Are our carnations, and streak'd gillyvors,
	Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind
	Our rustic garden's barren, and I care not
	To get slips of them.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 4><SCENE 3><55%>
<PERDITA>	<56%>
	For I have heard it said
	There is an art which in their piedness shares
	With great creating nature.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 4><SCENE 3><56%>
<PERDITA>	<57%>
	So it is.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 4><SCENE 3><56%>
<PERDITA>	<57%>
	I'll not put
	The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;
	No more than, were I painted, I would wish
	This youth should say, 'twere well, and only therefore
	Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;
	Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;
	The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the 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.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 4><SCENE 3><56%>
<PERDITA>	<57%>
	Out, alas!
	You'd be so lean, that blasts of January
	Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend,
	I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
	Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
	That wear upon your virgin branches yet
	Your maidenheads growing: O Proserpina!
	For the flowers now that frighted thou let'st fall
	From Dis's waggon! 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 prime-roses,
	That die unmarried, ere they can behold
	Bright Phœbus in his strength, a malady
	Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
	The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
	The flower-de-luce being one. O! these I lack
	To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend,
	To strew him o'er and o'er!
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 4><SCENE 3><57%>
<PERDITA>	<58%>
	No, like a bank for love to lie and play on;
	Not like a corse; or if,—not to be buried,
	But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers:
	Methinks I play as I have seen them do
	In Whitsun pastorals: sure this robe of mine
	Does change my disposition.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 4><SCENE 3><57%>
<PERDITA>	<58%>
	O Doricles!
	Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
	And the true blood which fairly peeps through it,
	Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd,
	With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
	You woo'd me the false way.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 4><SCENE 3><57%>
<PERDITA>	<58%>
	I'll swear for 'em.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 4><SCENE 3><59%>
<PERDITA>	<60%>
	Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's tunes.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 4><SCENE 3><60%>
<PERDITA>	<60%>
	Ay, good brother, or go about to think.

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Autolycus, singing.>
</STAGE DIR>

	Lawn as white as driven snow;
	Cyprus black as e'er was crow;
	Gloves as sweet as damask roses;
	Masks for faces and for noses;
	Bugle-bracelet, necklace-amber,
	Perfume for a lady's chamber;
	Golden quoifs and stomachers,
	For my lads to give their dears;
	Pins and poking-sticks of steel;
	What maids lack from head to heel:
	Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;
	Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry:
	Come buy.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 4><SCENE 3><65%>
<PERDITA>	<66%>
	I cannot speak
	So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better:
	By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
	The purity of his.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 4><SCENE 3><67%>
<PERDITA>	<68%>
	Even here undone!
	I was not much afeard; for once or twice
	I was about to speak and tell him plainly,
	The self-same sun that shines upon his court
	Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
	Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone?
	I told you what would come of this: beseech you,
	Of your own state take care: this dream of mine—
	Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch further,
	But milk my ewes and weep.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 4><SCENE 3><68%>
<PERDITA>	<69%>
	How often have I told you 'twould be thus!
	How often said my dignity would last
	But till 'twere known!
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 4><SCENE 3><71%>
<PERDITA>	<72%>
	One of these is true:
	I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
	But not take in the mind.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 4><SCENE 3><72%>
<PERDITA>	<72%>
	Your pardon, sir; for this
	I'll blush you thanks.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 4><SCENE 3><73%>
<PERDITA>	<74%>
	Happy be you!
	All that you speak shows fair.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 4><SCENE 3><74%>
<PERDITA>	<75%>
	I see the play so lies
	That I must bear a part.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 5><SCENE 1><87%>
<PERDITA>	<88%>
	O my poor father!
	The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
	Our contract celebrated.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 5><SCENE 3><96%>
<PERDITA>	<96%>
	And give me leave,
	And do not say 'tis superstition, that
	I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady,
	Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
	Give me that hand of yours to kiss.
</PERDITA>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 5><SCENE 3><97%>
<PERDITA>	<98%>
	So long could I
	Stand by, a looker-on.
</PERDITA>

