Page 817 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4
P. 817
FLORIZEL
I think you have
As little skill to fear as I have purpose
To put you to ’t. But come; our dance, I pray,
Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair
That never mean to part.
PERDITA
I’ll swear for ’em. [155]
POLIXENES
This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems
But smacks of something greater than herself,
Too noble for this place.
CAMILLO
He tells her something
That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is [160]
The queen of curds and cream.
CLOWN
Come on, strike up!
DORCAS
Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic to mend her kissing with!
MOPSA
Now, in good time! [165]
CLOWN
Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners.
Come, strike up!
(Music). Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.
POLIXENES
