Comparison of William Shakespeare Winter's Tale 3.3 to William Shakespeare

We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly,

And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,

I’ll follow instantly. I am glad at heart

I have heard (but not believ’d) the spirits o’ th’ dead

Sometimes her head on one side, some another —

I prithee call’t. For this ungentle business,

Put on thee by my lord, thou ne’er shalt see

Thy wife Paulina more.” And so, with shrieks,

She melted into air. Affrighted much,

This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys,

Apollo would (this being indeed the issue

Of King Polixenes) it should here be laid,

Either for life or death, upon the earth

And still rest thine. The storm begins. Poor wretch,

That for thy mother’s fault art thus expos’d

To loss, and what may follow! Weep I cannot,

But my heart bleeds; and most accurs’d am I

To be by oath enjoin’d to this. Farewell!

I would there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting —

Hark you now! Would any but these boil’d-brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt this weather? They have scar’d away two of my best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the master. If any where I have them, ’tis by the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck, and’t be thy will! What have we here? Mercy on ’s, a barne? A very pretty barne! A boy, or a child, I wonder? A pretty one, a very pretty one: sure some scape. Though I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This has been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some behind-door-work. They were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here. I’ll take it up for pity, yet I’ll tarry till my son come; he hallow’d but even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!

What? Art so near? If thou’lt see a thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail’st thou, man?

I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land! But I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky, betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin’s point.

Why, boy, how is it?

I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, how it takes up the shore! But that’s not to the point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! Sometimes to see ’em, and not to see ’em; now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, and anon swallow’d with yeast and froth, as you’ld thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the land-service, to see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone, how he cried to me for help, and said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, to see how the sea flap-dragon’d it; but, first, how the poor souls roar’d, and the sea mock’d them; and how the poor gentleman roar’d, and the bear mock’d him, both roaring louder than the sea or weather.

Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

Would I had been by, to have help’d the old man!

I would you had been by the ship side, to have help’d her; there your charity would have lack’d footing.

Heavy matters, heavy matters! But look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself: thou met’st with things dying, I with things new-born. Here’s a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire’s child! Look thee here, take up, take up, boy; open’t. So, let’s see — it was told me I should be rich by the fairies. This is some changeling; open’t; what’s within, boy?

Go you the next way with your findings; I’ll go see if the bear be gone from the gentleman and how much he hath eaten. They are never curst but when they are hungry. If there be any of him left, I’ll bury it.