But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your be doleful matter, merrily set down, or a very

Crowns what you are doing in the present rainbow; points, more than all the lawyers in

Come, buy of me, come; come buy, come buy, M. Or thou go'st to the grange, or mill ·
Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry;
Come, buy, &c.

Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou should'st take no money of me; but being enthrall'd as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain ribands and gloves.

Mop. I was promis'd them against the feast; but they come not too late now.

Dor. He hath promised you more than that, or

there be liars.

Mop. 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 kiln-hole, to whistle off these secrets; but you must be tittle-tattling 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 not told thee, how I was cozened by the way, and lost all my money?

Aut. And, indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad: therefore it behooves 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 7

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 hearts of maids: it was thought, she was a woman, and was turned into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that loved her: The ballad is very pitiful, and as

true.

Dor. Is it true, think you?

D. If to either, thou dost ill.

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?
selves: My father and the gentlemen are in sad
Clo. We'll have this song out anon by our
talk, and we'll not trouble them: Come, bring
away thy pack after me. Wenches, I'll buy for
Follow me, girls.
you both:-Pedler, let's have the first choice.-
Aut. And you shall pay well for 'em. [Aside.
Will you buy any tape,
Or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?
Any silk, any thread,
Any toys for your head,

Of the new'st, and fin'st, fin'st wear-a?
Come to the pedler;
Money's a medler,

That doth utter all men's ware-a.

[Exeunt Clown, Aut. Dorc. and Mopsa.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Master, there is three carters, three shep herds, 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 a 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.

Shep. Away! we'll none on't; here has been too much homely foolery already :-I know, sir, we weary you.

Pol. You weary those that refresh us: Pray, let's see these four threes of herdsmen.

Serv. One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath danced before the king; and not the worst of the three, but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squire.'

Shep. Leave your prating; since these good men are pleased, let them come in; but quickly

now.

Serv. Why, they stay at door, sir. [Exil Re-enter Servant, with twelve Rusticks habited like Satyrs. They dance, and then exeunt. Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.

Is it not too far gone?-Tis time to part them.He's simple, and tells much. [Aside.]-How now, fair shepherd?

Your heart is full of something, that does take Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young,

Aut. Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, And handed love as you do, I was wont To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd

more than my pack will hold.

Clo. Lay it by too: Another.

Aut. This is a merry ballad; but a very pretty The pedler's silken treasury, and have pour'd it

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.

To her acceptance; you have let him go,
And nothing marted with him: if your lass
Interpretation should abuse; and call this
Your lack of love, or bounty: you were straited
For a reply, at least, if you make a care
Of happy holding her.

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,
But not deliver'd.-O, hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
Hath sometime lov'd: I take thy hand; this
hand,

As soft as dove's down, and as white as it;
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow,
That's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er.
Pol. What follows this?

And, daughter, yours.
Pol.

Come, your hand;

Soft, swain, a while, 'beseech you;
Have you a father?
Flu.

I have: But what of him?
Pol. Knows he of this?
Flo.

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
Shorten thy life one week.-And thou, fresh piece
Of excellent witchcraft; who, of force, must
know

The royal fool thou cop'st with;
Shep.

O, my heart! Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briars, and made

More homely than thy state.-For thee, fond
boy,-

If I may ever know, thou dost but sigh,
That thou no more shalt see this knack, (as

never

I mean thou shalt,) we'll bar thee from succes-
sion;

Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Far than Deucalion off:-Mark thou my words;
Follow us to the court.-Thou churl, for this
time,

Thongh full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
From the dread blow of it.-And you, enchant

ment,

[Exit.

Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee,-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't.
Per.
Even here undone!
I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,
I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,
The selfsame sun, that shines upon his court,
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike.-Will't please you, sir, be gone 7
[To Florizel.
I told you, what would come of this: 'Beseecn

you,

Of your own state take care: this dream of
mine,-

Pol. Methinks, a father
Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest
That best becomes the table. 'Pray you, once
more;

Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch further,
He neither does, nor shall. But milk my ewes, and weep.
Cam
Why, how now, father 7
Speak, ere thou diest.
Shep.
I cannot speak, nor think,
Nor dare to know that which I know.-O, sir,
[To Florizel.

Is not your father grown incapable
Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid
With age, and altering rheums? Can he speak?

hear?

Know man from man? dispute his own estate?
Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing,
But what he did being childish?
Flo.
No, good sir;
He has his health, and ampler strength, indeed,"
Than most have of his age.

Pol.
By my white beard,
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
Something unfilial: Reason my son,
Should choose himself a wife, out as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else
But fair posterity) should hold some counsel
In such a business.

Flo.

I yield all this;

But, for some other reasons, my grave sir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this business.

Pol.

Flo. He shall not.

Pol.

Flo.

Let him know't.

Pr'ythee, let him.

No, he must not. Shep. Let him, my son; he shall not need to

grieve

At knowing of thy choice.
Flo.

Mark our contract.
Pol

You have undone a man of fourscore three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet: yea.
To die upon the bed my father died,
To 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 cursed
wretch!
[To Perdita.
That knew'st this was the prince, and would'st
adventure

To mingle faith with him.-Undone! undone !
If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd
To die when I desire.
Flo.

[Exit.
Why look you so upon me?
I am but sorry, not afeard! delay'd,
But nothing alter'd: What I was, I'am:
More straining on, for plucking back: not fol
lowing
My leash unwillingly.

Cam.
Gracious my lord,
You know your father's temper: at this time
He will allow no speech,-which, I do guess,
You do not purpose to him ;-and as hardly
Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear:
Then, till the fury of his highness settle,
Come not before him.
Flo.

Come, come, he must not :-I think, Camillo ?
Cam.
Per. How often

Mark your divorce, young sir,
[Discovering himself.

thus?

Be advis'd.
Flo. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness,
Do bid it welcome.

Cam.

This is desperate, sir.
Flo. So call it: but it does fulfil my vow;
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereat glean'd; for all the sun sees, or
The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
To this my fair belov'd: Therefore, I pray yon,
As you have ever been my father's honour'd
friend,

When he shall miss me, (as, in faith, I mean not
To see him any more,) cast your good counsels
Upon his passion: Let myself and fortune,
Tug for the time to come. This you may know,
And so deliver ;-I am put to sea

With her, whom here I cannot hold on shore;
And, most opportune to our need, I have
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepar'd
For this design. What course I mean to hold,
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.

Cam.

O, my lord,

I would your spirit were easier for advice,
Or stronger for your need.

Flo.

Hark, Perdita.[Takes her aside.
I'll hear you by and by.
[To Camillo.
Cam.
He's irremovable,
Resolv'd for flight: Now were I happy, if
His going I could frame to serve my turn;
Save him from danger, do him love and honour;
Purchase the sight again of deur Sicilia,
And that unhappy king, my master, whom
I so much thirst to see.
Flo.
Now, good Camillo,
I am so fraught with curious business, that
I leave out ceremony.
Cam.
You have heard of my poor services, i' the love
That I have borne your father?

Flo.

Sir, I think

[Going.

Very nobly
Have you deserv'd it is my father's musick,
To speak your deeds; not little of his care
To have them recompens'd as thought on.
Cam.

Of every wind that blows.
Cam.
Then list to me:
This follows,-if you will not change your pur-

pose,

But undergo this flight ;-Make for Sicilia;
And there present yourself, and your fair princess,
(For so, I see, she must be,) 'fore Leontes.
She shall be habited, as it becomes

The partner of your bed. Methinks, I see
Leontes, opening his free arms, and weeping
His welcomes forth: asks thee, the son, forgive-
tess,

As 'twere i' the father's person: kisses the hands
Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides
him

"Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one
He chiaes hell, and bids the other grow,
Faster than thought, or time.

Flo.
Worthy Camillo,
What colour for my visitation shall I
Hold up before him?
Cam.

Sent by the king your father
To greet him, and to give him comforts. Sir,
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
What you, as from your father, shall deliver,
Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you
down:

The which shall point you forth at every sitting,
What you must say; that he shall not perceive,
But that you have your father's bosom there,
And speak his very heart.

Flo.

There is some sap in this.
Cam.

I am bound to you.

A course more promising
Than a wild dedication of yourselves
To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores; most
certain,

To miseries enough: no hope to help you;
But as you shake off one, to take another:
Nothing so certain as your anchors; who
Do their best office, if they can but stay you
Where you'll be loath to be: Besides, you know,
Prosperity's the very bond of love;
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart to-
gether
Affliction aiters.

She is as forward of her breeding, as
She is i' the rear of birth.

Cam.
I cannot say, 'tis pity
She lacks instructions; for she seems a mistress
To most that teach.
Per.

Well, my lord, If you may please to think I love the king; And, through him, what is nearest to him, which is Your gracious self; embrace but my direction,I'll blush yon thanks. (If your more ponderous and settled project May suffer alteration,) on mine honour

I'll point you where you shall have such re-
ceiving

As shall become your highness; where you may
Enjoy your mistress (from the whom, I
see,
There's no disjunction to be made, but by,
As heavens forefend your ruin :) marry her;
And (with my best endeavours, in your absence)
Your discontenting father strive to qualify,
And bring him up to liking.

Flo.

How, Camillo,
May this, almost a miracle, be done?
That I may call thee something more than man,
And, after that, trust to thee.
Cam.

Have you thought on
A place, whereto you'll go ?
Flo.
Not any yet?
But as the unthought-on accident is guilty
To what we wildly do; so we profess
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies

Your pardon, sir, for this;

shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack |Of this escape, and whither they are bound;
from fasting; they throng who should buy first; Wherein, my hope is, I shall so prevail,
as if my trinkets had been hallowed, and brought To force him after: in whose company
a benediction to the buyer; by which means, II shall review Sicilia; for whose sight
saw whose purse was best in picture; and, what I have a woman's longing.
I saw, to my good use, I remembered. My clown Flo.
(who wants but something to be a reasonable
man) grew so in love with the wenches' song,
that he would not stir his pettitoes, till he had
both tune and words, which so drew the rest of
the herd to me, that all their other senses stuck
in ears you might have pinch'd a placket, it
was senseless; 'twas nothing, to geld a codpiece
of a purse; I would have filed keys off, that
hung in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my
sir's song, and admiring the nothing of it. So
that, in this time of lethargy, I picked and cut
most of their festival purses: and had not the
old man come in with a whoobub against his
daughter and the king's son, and scared my
choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse
alive in the whole army.

Fortune speed us!-
Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side.
Cam. The swifter speed, the better.

[Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita,
come forward.

Cam. Nay, but my letters by this means being
there

So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
Flo. And those that you'll procure from king
Leontes

Cam. Shall satisfy your father.
Per.

All, that you speak, shows fair.
Cam.

Happy be you!

Who have we here? [Seeing Autolycus. We'll make an instrument of this; omit Nothing, may give us aid. Aut. If they have overheard me now,why, hanging. [Aside Cam. How now, good fellow? Why shakest thou so 7 Fear not, man; here's no harm intended to thee.

Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir.

Cam. Why, be so still, here's nobody will steal that from thee: Yet, for the outside of thy poverty, we must make an exchange: therefore, discase thee instantly, (thou must think, there's necessity in't,) and change garments with this gentleman. Though the pennyworth, on his side, be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot. Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir ;-I know ye well enough. [Aside. Cam. Nay, pr'ythee, despatch: the gentleman is half flayed already.

Aut. Are you in earnest, sir ?—I smell the trick of it. [Aside. Flo. Despatch, I pr'ythee. Aut. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with conscience take it.

Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle.

[Exeunt Flo. Per. and Cam. Aut. I understand the business, I hear it: To have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see, this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been, without boot ? what a boot is here, with this exchange? Sure, the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of iniquity: stealing away from his father, with his clog at his heels: If I thought it were not a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would do't; I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant in my profession.

Enter Clown and Shepherd. Aside, aside:-here is more matter for a hot brain: Every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a careful man work. Clo. See, see; what a man you are now ! there is no other way, but to tell the king, she's a changeling, and none of your flesh and blood. Shep. Nay, but hear me. Clo. Nay, but hear me. Shep. Go to then.

Clo. She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh and blood has not offended the king: and so, your flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show those things you found about her; those secret things, all but what she has with her: This being done, let the law go whistle; I warrant you.

Shep. I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his son's pranks too: who, I may say, is no honest man neither to his father, nor to me, to go about to make me the king's brother-in-law.

Clo. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you could have been to him; and then your blood had been the dearer, by I know how much

an ounce.

[Aside.

Aut. Very wisely; puppies! Shep. Well; let us to the king; there is that in this fardel, will make him scratch his beard. Aut. I know not what impediment this complaint may be to the flight of my master. Clo. 'Pray heartily, he be at palace. Aut. Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance ;-let me pocket up my pedler's excrement. [Takes off his false beard.] How now, rusticks 7 whither are you bound? Shep. To the palace, an it like your worship. Aut. Your affairs there ? what? with whom? the condition of that fardei, the place of your dwelling, your names, your ages, of what hav breeding, and any thing that is fitting to Ibe known, discover.

[Flo. and Autol. exchange garments.
Fortunate mistress,-let my prophecy
Come home to you!-you must retire yourself
Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat,
And pluck it o'er your brows; muffle your face;ling,
Dismantle you and as you can, disliken
The truth of your own seeming; that you may
(For I do fear eyes over you) to shipboard
Get undescribed.

Clo. We are but plain fellows, sir.

Aut. A lie; you are rough and hairy: Let me have no lying; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us the lie.

Clo. Your worship had like to have given us one, if you had not taken yourself with the manner. Shep. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir? Aut. Whether it like me, or no, I am a courtier. Seest thou not the air of the court, in these enfoldings hath not my gait in it, the measure of the court? receives not thy nose court-odour from me? reflect I not on thy baseness, courtcontempt! Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, or toze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier I am courtier cap-a-pie; and one that