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As little skill to fear, as I have purpose
I'll swear for 'em.
Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out: Good sooth, she is The queen
of curds and cream, Clown.
Come on, strike up. Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, gar
lick, To mend her kissing with.-. Мор.
Now, in good time! Clown. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our
manners.Come, strike up.
Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what Fair swain is this, which dances with your daughter? Shep. They call him Doricles; and he boasts
himself To have a worthy feeding: but I have it Upon his own report, and I believe it; He looks like sooth: He says, he loves my daugh
ter; I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand, and read,
As 'twere, my daughter's eyes; and, to be plain,
She dances featly.
Enter a Servant. Ser. O master, if you did but hear the pedler 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 his tunes.
Clown. 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 şung lamentably.
Ser. 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 dildo's and fudings: 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 IVhoop, do me no harm, good man.
Pol. This is a brave fellow,
Clown. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirableconceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares?
Ser. He hath ribands of all the colours i'the rainbow; points, more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come to him by the gross; inkles, caddisses, cambricks, 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.
Clown. Pr’ythee, bring him in; and let him approach singing
Per. Forewarn him, that he use no scurrilous words in his tunes.
Clown. You have of these pedlers, that have more in 'em than you'd think, sister.
Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think,
Enter Autolycus, singing.
Clown. 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 promised 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.
Clown. 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.
Clown. Have I not told thee, how I was cozen'd by the way, and lost all my money?
Aut. And, indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary.
Clown. Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here.
Aut. I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.
Clown. 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 long'd to eat adders' heads, and toads carbonado'd.
Mop. Is it true, think you?
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,
Clown. 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 appear'd 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 turn'd into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that loy’d her: The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.
Dor. Is it true too, think you?
Aut. Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, more than my pack will hold.
Clown. Lay it by too: Another.
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.