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more than all the lawyers in Bithynia can learnedly handle, though they come to him by the gross; inkles, caddisses, cambricks, lawns: why, he sings 'em over, as they were gods or goddesses; you would think, a smock were a she-angel; he so chants to the sleeveband, and the work about the square on't.

Clo. Pr’ythee, bring him in, and let him approach singing. Per. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's tunes.

Clo. You have of these pedlers that have more in them than you'd think, fister. Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think.

Enter Autolicus singing:
Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow;
Gloves as sweet as damask roses,
Masks for faces, and for noses;
Bugle-bracelets, necklace amber,
Perfume for a lady's chamber;
Golden quoifs, and stomachers,
For

my lads to give their dears;
Pins, and poking-sticks of steel,
What maids lack from head to heel :

Come, buy of me, come : come, buy, come, buy,
Buy, lads, or else your lases cry: come, buy.

Cl. 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 promis’d you more than that, or there be liars.

Mop. He hath pay'd you all he promis'd you: ’may be, he has pay'd 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 kill-hole, to whistle

B b b 2

off

off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all our guests ? 'tis well they are whispering: charm 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 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.

Clo. Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here.

Aut. I hope fo, fir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.

Clo. What haft here? ballads?

Mop. Pray now, buy some : I love a ballad in print, or 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 with 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. 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 Tale-porter, 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 appear'd upon the coast, on wednesday the fourscore of april, forty thousand fadom 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 lov'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.

Clo.

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.

Song.
Aut. Get you hence, for I must go,

Where it fits not you to know.
Dor. Whither?
Mop. O, whither?
Dor. Whither?
Mop. It becomes thy oath full well,

Thou to me thy secrets tell,
Dor. Me too, let me go thither :
Mop. Or thou goeft to th’grange, or mill;
Dor. If to either, thou doft ill:
Aut. Neither.
Dor. What, neither ?
Aut. Neither.
Dor. Thou hast sworn my love to be;
Mop. Thou haft sworn it more to me :

Then, whither goeft? say, whither?

Clo. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves : my father and the gentlemen are in fad talk, and we'll not trouble them: come, bring away thy pack after me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both: pedler, let's have the first choice : follow me, girls. Aut. And

you
shall
pay

well for 'em.

Song.

Song.
Will you buy any tape, or lace for your cape,

My dainty duck, my dear-a?
Any filk, any thread, any toys for your head,

Of the news, and finift, fin ft wear-a?
Come to the pedler, money's a medler,
That doth utter all mens ware-a.

[Ex. Clown, Autolicus, Dorcas, and Mopsa.

SC EN E VII.

Enter a Servant. Ser. Master, there are three goatherds, three shepherds, three neatherds, and three swineherds, that have made themselves all men of hair ; they call themselves faltiers; and they have a dance, which the wenches say is a gallymaufry of gambols, because they are not in't: but they themselves are o'th' 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, fir, we weary you.

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

Ser. One three of them, by their own report, fir, hath danc'd before the king; and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and half by th' square.

Shep. Leave your prating; since these good men are pleas’d, let them come in, but quickly now. Flo. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.

Here a dance of twelve satyrs.
Pol. Is it not too far gone? 'tis time to part them :
He's simple, and tells much. How now, fair shepherd ?
Your heart is full of something that does take
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young,

And

And handed love, as you do, I was wont
To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd
The pedler's filken treasury, and have pour'd it
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 fir, 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 blast twice o'er.

Pol. What follows this?
How prettily the young swain seems to wash
The hand was fair before! I've put you out;
But, to your protestation : let me hear
What

Flo. Do, and be witness to't.
Pol. And this my neighbour too?

Flo. And he, and more
Than he, and men; the earth, and heav'ns, and all;
That, were I crown’d the moft imperial monarch,
Thereof most worthy; were I the fairest youth
That ever made eye swerve; had force, and knowledge,
More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
Without her love; for her employ them all,
Commend them, and condemn them to her service,
Or to their own perdition.

Pol. Fairly offer’d.

you profess.

Cam.

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