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which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipped out of the court.

Clo. His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipped 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 compassed 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.

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 had but looked big, and spit at him, he'd have run.

you

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, Ilow do you now?

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

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

Clo. 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

you,

imotion of the prodigal son,] i. e. the puppet-shere, ther called motions. A term frequently occurring in our author. : - Prig, for my life, prig :) To prig is to filch.

shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled, and my name put in the book of virtue!

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

And merrily hent the stile-a :*
A merry heart goes all the day,

Your sad tires in a mile-a.

(Exit.

SCENE III.

The same.

A Shepherd's Cottage.

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-shearing Is as a meeting of the petty gods, And you the queen

on't. Per.

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 obscurd With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid, Most 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 show myself a glass.

hent the stile-a :] To hent the stile, is to take hold of it.

your extremes,] That is, the extravagance of his conduct, in obscuring himself “ in a swain's wearing,” while he “pranked her up most goddess-like.” The gracious mark --] The object of all men's notice. -prank'd up :) To prank is to dress with ostentation.

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pass this

Flo.

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

Now Jove afford you cause! To me, the difference forges dread ; your great

ness
Hath not been us'd to fear. Even now I tremble
To think, your father, by some accident,
Should

way, as you did: 0, the fates !
How would he look, to see his work, so noble,
Vilely bound up?9 What would he say? Or how
Should I, in these my borrow'd faunts, 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 god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
As I seem now: Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer ;
Nor in a way so chaste: since my

desires
Run not before mine honour; nor my lusts
Burn hotter than my faith.
Per.

O but, dear sir,
Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd, as it must be, by the power o'the

king : One of these two must be necessities,

9

8 To me, the difference -] i. e. between his rank and hers.

his work, so noble, Vilely bound up?] It is impossible for any man to rid his mind of his profession. The authorship of Shakspeare has supplied him with a metaphor, which, rather than he would lose it, he has put with no great propriety into the mouth of a country maid. Thinking of his own works, his mind passed naturally to the binder. I am glad that he has no hint at an editor. JOHNSON.

Which then will speak ; that you must change this

purpose, Or I my life. Flo.

Thou dearest Perdita, With these forc'd thoughts, I pr’ythee, darken not The mirth o'the 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, Though destiny say, no. Be merry, gentle ; Strangle such thoughts as these, with any thing That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: Lift up your countenance ; as it were the day Of celebration of that nuptial, which We two have sworn shall come. Per.

O lady fortune, Stand you auspicious !

Enter Shepherd, with Polixenes and Camillo dis

guised; Clown, Mopsa, Dorcas, and Others. Flo.

See, your guests approach : Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, And let's be red with mirth. Shep. Fye, daughter' when my old wife liv’d,

upon This day, she was both pantler, butler, cook ; Both dame and servant: welcom'd all: serv'd all : Would sing her song, and dance her turn: now here, At upper end o’the table, now, i’the 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 retird, As if you were a feasted one, and not The hostess of the meeting : Pray you, bid These unknown friends to us welcome : for it is A way to make us better friends, more known.

QQ

VOL. III.

Come, quench your blushes; and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o'the feast: Come on,
And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.
Per.

Welcome, sir! [To Pol.
It is my father's will, I should take on me
The hostess-ship o'the day :-You're welcome, sir !

[To Camillo. Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.--Reverend

sirs,
For
you

there's rosemary, and rue? these keep
Seeming, and savour, all the winter long :
Grace, and remembrance, be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing !
Pol.

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

Sir, the year growing ancient,-
Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth
Of trembling winter,—the fairest flowers o'the sea-

son

Are our carnations, and streak'd gillyflowers,
Which some call nature's bastards : of that kind
Our rustick garden's barren; and I care not
To get slips of them.
Pol.

Wherefore, gentle maiden,
Do you neglect them?
Per.

For I have' heard it said, There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares With great creating nature. Pol.

Say, there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry

For I have -] For, in this place, signifies--because that.

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