loss of his most precious queen, and children, are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw'st thou the prince Florizel my son Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing them, when they have approved their virtues. Cam. Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince: What his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have, missingly, noted, he is of late much retired from court; and is less frequent to his princely exercises, than formerly he bath appeared. Enter CLOWN Clo. Let me see:-Every 'leven weathertods; every tod yields-pound and odd shilling fifteen hundred shorn,-What comes the wool to ? Aut. If the springe hold, the cock's mine. [Aside. Clo. I cannot do't without counters. + - Let me see; what I am to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of sugar; five pound of currants; rice--What will this sister of mine do with rice? But my father hath made Pol. I have considered so much, Camillo; her mistress of the feast, and she lays it on. She and with some care; so far, that I have eyes hath made me four-and-twenty nosegays for under my service, which look upon his removed- the shearers: three-man song-men all, aud ness: from whom I have this intelligence; That very good ones; but they are most of them he is seldom from the house of a most homely means and bases: but one Puritan amongst shepherd; a man, they say, that from very no-them, and he sings psalus to hornpipes. thing, and beyond the imagination of his neigh must have saffron, to colour the warden pies; bours, is grown into an unspeakable estate. mace,-dates,-none; that's out of my note: nutmegs seven; a race, or two, of ginger; but that I may beg;-four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o'the sun. Cam. I have heard, Sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note: the report of her is extended more, than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. Aut. Oh that ever I was born! [Grovelling on the ground. Clo. 'the name of me,—— Aut. Oh! help me, help me! pluck but off these rags; and then, death, death! Pol. That's likewise part of my intelligence. But I fear the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place : where we will, not appearing what we are, have some question with the shepherd; from whose simplicity, I think it not uneasy, to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Pr'ythee, be my pre-off. sent partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. Cam. I willingly obey your command. SCENE II.-The same.~A Road near the Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing. When daffodils begin to peer,- With, height the doxy over the dale,- The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,- Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. Are summer songs for me and my aunts,|| I have served prince Florizel, and, in my time, But shal! I go mourn for that, my dear? If tinkers may have leave to live, Clo. Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these Aut. O Sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more than the stripes I have received; which are mighty ones and millions. Clo. Alas! poor mau a million of beating may come to a great matter. Aut. I am robbed, Sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me. Clo. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man? Clo. Indeed, be should be a foot-man, by the Clo. How now? canst stand? Aut. Softly, dear Sir; [Picks his pocket.] good Sir, sofily: you ha' done me a charitable office. Clo. Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee. Aut. No, good sweet Sir; no, I beseech you, Sir: I have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; 1 shall there have money, or any thing I want: Offer me no money, I pray you; that kills my beart. Clo. What manner of fellow was he that robbed you? Aut. A fellow, Sir, that I bave known to go about with trol-my-dames: ¶ I knew him once a servant of the prince; I cannot tell, good Sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipped out of the court. virtue whipped out of the court: they cherish Clo. His vices, you would say; there's no it, to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but abide. •• My traffic is sheets: when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. My father named me, Autolycus; who, being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles; With die, and drab, I purchased this caparison; man well: he hath been since an ape-bearer; Aut. Vices I would say, Sir. I know this and my revenue is the silly cheat: Gallows, then a process server, a bailiff; then he com and knock, are too powerful on the highway: beating, and hanging, are terrors to me; for the passed a motion ++ of the prodigal sou, and marlife to come, I sleep out the thought of it.-A ried a tinker's wife within a mile where my land prize! a prize! Every eleven sheep will produce a tod or 28 pounds of wool. + Circular pieces of base metal anciently used by the illiterate to adjust their reckonings. 1 Singers of catches in three parts. A species of pears. Sojourn. tt Puppet-show. and living lies; and, having flown over many | Were never for a piece of beauty rarer; knavish professions, he settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus. Clo. Out upon him! Prig, for my life, prig: he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings. Aut. Very true, Sir; he, Sir, he; that's the rogue, that put me into this apparel. Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had but looked big, and spit at him, h'd have run. Aut. I must confess to you, Sir, I am no fighter: I am false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant him. Clo. How do you now? Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can stand and walk: I will even take my eave of you, and pace softly towards my kins man's. Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way? Aut. No, good-faced Sir; no, sweet Sir. Clo. Then fare thee well; I must go buy spices for our sheep-shearing. Aut. Prosper you, sweet Sir!-[Exit CLOWN.] Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too: If I make not this cheat bring out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled, and my name put in the book of virtue ! SCENE III.-The same.-A Shepherd's Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA. Flo. These your unusual weeds to each part of you Do give a life: no shepherdess, but Flora, Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing Is as a meeting of the petty gods, Per. Sir, my gracious lord, To chide at your extremes, t it not becomes me; O pardon, that I name them: your high self, The gracious mark o'the land, you have ob scur'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 To see you so attired; sworn, I think, To show myself a glass. Flo. I bless the time, When my good falcon made her flight across Per. Now Jove afford you cause! To me, the difference ¶ forges dread; your great ness Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble how Nor in a way so chaste: since my desires Run not before mine honour; nor my lusts Burn hotter than my faith. Per. O but, dear Sir, Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power o'the king: One of these two must be necessities, Which then will speak; that you must change this purpose, Or I my life. Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, With these forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not The mirth o'the feast: Or I'll be thine, my fair, I be not thine; to this I am most constant, Lift up your countenance; as it were the day Per. O lady fortune, Enter SHEPHERD, with POLIXENES and CsMILLO, disguised; CLOWN, Mopsa, Dorcas, and others. Flo. See, your guests approach: Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, And let's be red with mirth. Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife liv'd, upon This day, she was both pantler, butler, cook; Per. Welcome, Sir ! [To POL. It is my father's will, I should take on ine Sirs, For you there's rosemary, and rue: these keep (A fair one are you, well you fit our ages With flowers of winter. Per. 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 gillyflowers, Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. For I have heard it said, There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares With great creating nature. Pol. Say, there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair, marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock; Which does mend nature,--change it rather: but Per. So it is. Pol. Then make your garden rich in gillyflowers, And do not call them bastards. Per. I'll not put The dibble in earth to set one slip of them : Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you; To men of middle age: You are very welcome. Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing. Per. Out, alas ! You'd be so lean, that blasts of January Would blow you through and through.-Now, my fairest friend, [might I would, I had some flowers o'the spring, that Become your time of day; and yours, and yours; That wear upon your virgin branches yet Your maidenheads growing:-0 Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis' waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take Flo. What? like a corse ? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play Per. I'll swear for 'em. Pol. 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. Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out: Good sooth, she is The queen of curds and cream. Clo. Come on, strike up. Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic, To mend ber kissing with. Mop. Now, in good time! Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. Come, strike up. [Mucic. Shep. They call him Doricles, and he boasts bimself To have a worthy feeding: + but I have it I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon I think, there is not half a kiss to choose, Pol. She dances featly. § Shep. So she does any thing; though I report it, That should be silent: if young Doricles Enter a SERVANT. Serv. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you: he sings several tunes, faster than you'll tell money; he utters them as he had eaten ballads, and all men's ears grew to their tunes. Clo. He could never come better: he shall come in I love a ballad but even too well; if it be doleful matter, merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed, and sung lamentably. Serv. He hath songs, for man, or woman, of all sizes; no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves he has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate burdens of dildos and fadings; jump her and thump her; and where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and break a foul gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer, Whoop, do me no harm, good man; puts him off, slights him, with Whoop, do me no harm, good man. Pol. This is a brave fellow. Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow. Has be any unbraided Your praises are too large but that your youth,|wares ? || Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd; Flo. I think, you have As little skill to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't. But, come; our dance, I pray : Serv. He bath ribands of all the colours i'the rainbow; points, more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly bandle, though they come to him by the gross; inkles, ¶ caddisses, ** cambrics, lawns: why, he sings them over, as they were gods or goddesses; you would think, a smock were a she-angel: he so chants to the sleeve-hand, and the work about the square on't. + hearts of maids: It was thought she was a woman and was turned into a cod fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that loved her: The Clo. Pr'ythee, bring him in; and let him ap-ballad is very pitiful, and as true. proach singing. Per. Forewarn him, that he use no scurrilous words in his tunes. Clo. You have of these pedlars, that have more in 'em than you'd think, sister. Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think. Dor. Is it true too, think you? Aut. Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, more than my pack will hold. Clo. Lay it by too: Another. Aut. This is a merry ballad; but a very pretty one. Mop. Let's have some merry ones. Aut Why this is a passing merry one; and goes to the tune of, Two maids wooing a man: there's scarce a maid westward, but she sings it: 'tis in request, I can tell you. Mop. We can both sing it; if thou'lt bear a part, thou shalt hear; 'tis in three parts. Dor. We had the tune on't a month ago. Aut. I can bear my part; you must know, 'tis my occupation: have at it with you. A. Neither. D. What, neither? A. Neither. D. Thou hast sworn my love to be M. Thou hast sworn it more to me : Then, whither go'st? say, whither? Clo. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves; My father and the gentleman are in sad talk, and we'll not trouble them; Come, bring Wenches, I'll buy for away thy pack after me. you both :-Pedlar, let's have the first choice.to Moy. He hath paid you all he promised you ; may be, he has paid you more; which will shame you to give him again. Clo. Is there no manners left among maids ? will they wear their plackets, where they should bear their faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiin-hole, whistle off these secrets; but you must be tittletattling before all our guests? 'Tis well they are whispering Clamour your tongues, and not a word more. Mop. I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry lace, ¶ and a pair of sweet gloves. Clo. Have I told thee, how I was cozened by the way, and lost all my money? Aut. And, indeed, Sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary. Clo. Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here. Aut. I hope so, Sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge. Clo. What hast here? ballads? Mop. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print, a'-life; for then we are sure they are true. Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, How a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty money bags at a burden; and how she longed to eat adders' heads, and toads carbonadoed. Mop. Is it true, think you? Aut. Very true; and but a month old. Dor. Bless me from marrying a usurer! Aut. Here's the midwife's name to't, one mistress Taleporter; and five or six honest wives that were present: Why should I carry lies abroad? Mop. 'Pray you now, buy it. Clo. Come on, lay it by: And let's first see more ballads; we'll buy the other things anon. Aut. Here's another ballad, of a fish, that appeared upon the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against the hard Follow me, girls. Aut. And you shall pay well for 'em. [Aside. Will you buy any tape, Any toys for your head, Of the new'st, and fin'st, fin'st wear-a? Money's a medler, That doth utter all men's ware-a. Enter a SERVANT. Serv. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair; they call themselves saltiers: and they have a dance which the wenches say is gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not in't; but they themselves are o'the mind, (if it be not too rough for some, that know little but bowling,) it will please plentifully. too much humble foolery already :-1 know, Sir, Shep. Away! we'll none on't; here bas been Serv. Why, they stay at door, Sir. [Exit. Pol. O father, you'll know more of that bereafter. Know man from man? dispute his own_estate?❤ He has his health, and ampler strength, indeed, Pol. By my white beard, Is it not too far gone ?-'Tis time to part them.-Than most have of his age. Your heart is full of something, that does take young, And handed love, as you do, I was wont [son, You offer him, if this be so, a wrong To load my she with knacks: I would have In such a business. ransack'd The pedlar's silken treasury, and have pour'd it Flo. Old Sir, I know She prizes not such trifles as these are: The gifts, she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd Up in my heart; which I have given already, As soft as dove's down, and as white as it; How prettily the young swain seems to wash Flo. Do, and be witness to't. Pol. And this my neighbour too? Than he, and men; the earth, the heavens, and Pol. Fairly offer'd. Cam. This shows a sound affection. Shep. But, my daughter, Say you the like to him? Per. I cannot speak [vice, So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better: By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out The purity of his. Shep. Take hands, a bargain;→→→ [to't And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness I give my daughter to him, and will make Her portion equal his. Flo. Oh! that must be I'the virtue of your daughter: one being dead, I shall have more than you can dream of yet; Enough then for your wonder: But, come on, Contract us 'fore these witnesses. Shep. Come, your band ;~~~~ And, daughter, your's. Pol. Soft, swain, awhile, 'beseech you; Have you a father? Flo. I have: But what of him? Pol. Knows he of this? Flo. I yield all this; But, for some other reasons, my grave Sir, Pol. Let him know't. Pol. Pr'ythee, let him. Flo. No, he must not. Shep. Let him, my son; he shall not need to At knowing of thy choice. Flo. Come, come he must not :Mark our contract. Pol. Mark your divorce, young Sir, [grieve [Discovering himself. Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base To be acknowledg'd: Thou a sceptre's heir, That thus affect'st a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor, I am sorry, that, by hanging thee, I can but Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made More homely than thy state.-For thee, fond boy- Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee From the dead blow of it.-And you, enchantnient, Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too, Per. Even here undone ! [Exit. I was not much afeard: for once, or twice, 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. Cam. Why, how now, father? Speak, ere thou diest. Shep. I cannot speak, nor think, Nor dare to know that which I know.-O Sir, |
