Abbildungen der Seite

I have serv'd prince Florizel, and, in my time, wore three-pile; but now I am out of service:

But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?

The pale moon shines by night:
And when I wander here and there,

I then do most go right.

If tinkers may have leave to live,

And bear the sow-skin budget;
Then my account I well may give,

And in the stocks avouch it.

My traffick is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. My father named me, Autolycus; who, being, as I am, litter'd under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles: With die, and drab, I purchased this caparison; and my revenue is the silly cheat: Gallows, and knock, are too powerful on the highway: beating, and hanging, are terrors to me; for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it.--A prize! a prize!

Enter Clown. Clown. Let me see:-Every 'leven wether tods; every tod yields-pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn,- What comes the wool to?

Aut. If the springe hold, the cock's mine,


Clown. I cannot do't without counters. - Let me see; what am I 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 her mistress of the feast, and she lays it on.

She hath made me four-andtwenty nosegays for the shearers : three-man songmen all, and very good ones; but they are most of them means and bases: but one Puritán amongst them, and he sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have saffron, to colour the warden pies; 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. Aut. O, that ever I was born!

[Groveling on the ground. Clown. I'the name of me,

Aut. O, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags; and then, death, death!

Clown. Alack, poor soul; thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off.

Aut. O, sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more than the stripes I have receiv'd; which are mighty ones, and millions.

Clown. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter.

Aut. I am robb’d, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta’en 'from me, and these detestable things put upon me.

Clown.' What, 'by á horse-man, or a foot-man? Aut. 'A foot-man, sweet sir, a foot-man.

Clown. Indeed, he should be a foot-man, by the garments he hath left with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend

me thy hand, I'll help thee: come, lend me thy hand.

[Helping him up. Aut. O! good sir, tenderly; oh! Clown. Alas, poor soul.

Aut. O, good sir, softly, good sir: I fear, sir, my shoulder-blade is out.

Clown. How now? canst stand?

Aut. Softly, dear sir; [picks his pocket.] good sir, softly: you ha' done me a charitable office.

Clown. 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; I shall there have money, or any thing I want: Offer me no money, I pray you; that kills my heart.

Clown. What manner of fellow was he that robb’d you?

Aut. A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about with trol-my-dames: I knew him once a servant of the prince; I cannot tell, good sir, for

ich of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipp'd out of the court.

Clown. His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipp'd out of the court: they cherish it, to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but abide.

Aut. Vices I would say, sir. I know this man well: he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a bailiff; then he compass’d a motion of the prodigal son, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lies;

and, having flown over many knavish professions, he settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus.

Clown. 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.

Clown. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had but look’d big, and spit at him, he'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.

Clown. How do you now?

Aut. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand, and walk: I will even take my

leave of

you, and pace softly towards my kinsman's.

Clown. Shall I bring thee on the way?
Aut. No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir.

Clown. 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 unroll’d, and my name put in the book of virtue!

Jog on, jog on, the footh-path way,

And merrily hent the stile-a:
A merry heart

Your sad tires in a mile-a.

all the day,






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-shear


Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the queen on’t.

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 goddesslike 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; sworn, I think,
To show myself a glass.

I bless the time,
When my good falcon made her flight across
Thy father's ground.

Now Jove afford you cause!
To me, the difference forges dread; your greatness
Hath not been usd to fear. Even now I tremble
To think, your father, by some accident,
Should pass

way, as you did: 0, the fates! How would he look, to see his work, so noble,


« ZurückWeiter »