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Aut. Vices I would say, Sir. I know this man well, he hath been fince an ape-bearer, then a process-server, a bailiff; then he compass’d a motion of the prodigal fon, ard married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lies; and, having flown over many knavith professions, he settled only in rogue; some call him Autolicus.

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 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.

Clo. How do you now?

Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can ftand, and walk; I will even take my leave of you; and pace softly towards my kinsman's.

Cio. Shall I bring thee on thy way?
Aut. No, good-fac'd Sir; no, sweet Sir.

Clo. Then, farewel, I must go to buy spices for our Theep-lhearing

[Exit. Aut. Prosper you, sweet Sir! your purse is not hot errough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-fhearing too: if I make not this cheat bring out another, and the fhearers prove sheep. (25) let me be unrollid, and my 'name put into the book of virtuel:

S 0 N G.
Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,

And' merrily hent the ftile-a.

all the day,
Your fad tires in a mile-a..

[Exit. (25) Let me be unroll’d, and my name put in the book of virtue.] Be ging gypsies, &c. in the time of our Author were in gangs, that had something of the regularity of an incorporated body. This is alticed to here. From this noble society he wishes he may be unroll d, se he does not do so, and so,

Mr. Warburton.

heart goes


SCENE, the prospect of a Shepherd's Cott.

Enter Florizel and Perdita,
HESE your unusual weeds to each part of you

Do give a life: no shepherders, but Flora
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-searing
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the Queen on't.

Per. Sir, my gracious Lord,
To chide at your extreams it not becomes me :
Oh pardon, that I name them : your high self,
The gracious mark o'th' land, you have obscur'd
With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,
Moft goddess-like 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 fhew myself a glass.

Flo. I bless the time,
When my good falcon made her flight a-cros
Thy father's ground.

Per. Now Fove afford you cause !
To me the difference forges dread; (your greatness
Hath not been us’d to fear;) even now I tremble
To think, your father, by some accident,
Should pass this way, as you did : oh, the fates!
How would he look, to see his work, so noble,
Vildly bound up! what would he fay! or how.
Should I in these my borrow'd flaunts behold.
The sternness of his presence ?

Flo. Apprehend
Nothing but jollity: the gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shapes of beasts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd ; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated ; and the fire-rob'd gud,
Golden Apollo, a poor hunnble fwain,
As I seem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,


Nor in a way so charte: fince


desires Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts Burn hotter than


faith. Per. O, but, dear Sir, Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis Oppos’d, as it must be, by th' power o'th' King. One of these two must be necessities, Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose, Or I


Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,
With these forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o'th' feast; or I'll be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this

I am most constant,
Tho' destiny say no. Be merry, (Gentle,)
Strangle fuch thoughts as these, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming :
Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which
We two have fworn shall come.

Per. O lady Fortune,
Stand you auspicious!
Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants; with

Polixenes and Camillo disguis'd.
Flo. See, your guests approach ;
Address yourself to entertain them fprightly,
And let's be red with mirth,

Shep. Fy, daughter; when my old wife liv'd; upon,
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and servant; welcom'd all, fervd all;
Would fing her song, and dance her turn; now here -
At upper end o’th' table, now i'th' middle;
On his shoulder, and his ; her face o fire.
With labour; and the thing she took to quench it
She would to each one sip. You are retired,
As if you were a feasted one, and not
The hostess of the meeting : pray you, bid
These unknown friends to's welcome, for it is


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A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes, and present yourself
That which you are, miftress o'th' feast. Come' on,
And bid us welcome to your sheep-fhearing,
As your good flock shall profper.
Per. Sirs, welcome.

[To Pol. and Cam.
It is my father's will, I should take on me
The hostessthip o'th' day; you're welcome, Sirs.
Give me those flowers there, Dercas.-Reverend Sirs,
For you there's rosemary and rue, these keep
Seeming and favour all the winter long :
Grace and remembrance be unto you both,
And welcome to our Thearing!

Pol. Shepherders,
(A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages
With flowers of winter.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,
Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth
Of trembling winter, the faireft Aowers o'th' feafon
Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers,
Which some call Nature's bastards : of that kind
Our rustick garden's barren, and I care not
To get flips of them.

Pol. Wherefore, gentle maidens
Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it said,
There is an art, which in their pideness hares
With great creating Nature.

Pol. Say, there be;
Yet Nature is made better by no mean,
But Nature makes that mean; fo over that art,
Which, you say, adds to Nature, is an art
That Nature makes ; you fee; sweet maid, we marry
A gentler fcyon to the wildeft ftock;
And make conceive a bark of bafer kind
By bud of nobler race.

This is an art,
Which does mend Natore, change it rather; but
The art itself is Nature.

Per. So it is.
Pol. Then make your garden sich in gilly-flowers,


And do not call them bastards.

Per. I'll not put The dibble in earth, to set one sip of them: No more than, were I painted, I would wish This youth should say, 'cwere well; and only therefore Desire to breed by me.--Here's flowers for you ; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram, The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun, And with him rises, weeping : these are Powers Of middle-summer, and, I think, they are given To men of middle-age. Y'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 [friend, Would blow you through and through. Now, my faireft I would, I had some flowers o'th' spring, that might Become your time of day; and yours, and yours, That wear upon your virgin-branches yet Your maiden-heads growing: Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let't fall From Dis's waggon ! daffadils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold: Bright Phæbus in his ftrength; (a malady Most incident to maids;) bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial; lillies of all kinds, The flower-de-lis being one. O, these I lack To make you garlands

of, and my sweet friend, To ftrow him o'er and o'er.

Flo. What? like a coarse ? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; Not like a coarse ; or if,- not to be buried But quick, and in mine arms, Come, take your flowers; Methinks, I play as I have seen them do In Whitsun pastorals : sure, this robe of mine Does change my difpofition.


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