Clo. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter. Aut. I am robbed, Sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me. Clo. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man? Aut. A foot-man, sweet Sir, a foot-man. Clo. Indeed, he should be a foot-man, by the garments he hath left with thee; If this be a horse-man'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 ! Clo. Alas, poor soul. Aut. O, good Sir, softly, good Sir: I fear, Sir, my shoulderblade is out. Clo. How now ? canst stand? Aut. Softly, dear Sir [Picks his pocket]; good Sir, softly; you ha' done me a charitable office. Clo. 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 anything I want: Offer me no money, I pray you; that kills my heart. Clo. What manner of fellow was he that robbed you? Aut. A fellow, Sir, that I have known to go about with trolmy-dames:* I knew him once a servant of the prince; I cannot tell, good Sir, for 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 motiont 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 you had but looked 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 stand and walk: I will even take my leave of you, and pace softly towards my kinsman's. Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way? *The machine used in the game of pigeon-holes, Procured a puppet-show. Thief. Clo. Then fare thee well; I must go buy spices for our sheepshearing. 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 unrolled, and my name put in the book of virtue ! Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, SCENE III.-The same. A Shepherd's Cottage. Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA. Flo. These your unusual weeds to each part of you Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing And you the queen on't. Per. Sir, my gracious lord, To chide at your extremes,t it not becomes me; To see you so attired; sworn, I think, Flo. I bless the time, When my good falcon made her flight across Per. Now Jove afford you cause! To me the difference || forges dread; your greatness Should pass this way as you did: O, the fates! Flo. Apprehend Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves, *Take hold of. { Dressed up. † Extravagancies. II. e. of station. [Exit. + Object of observation. As I seem now: Their transformations Per. O but, dear Sir, Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis Opposed, as it must be, by the power o' the king: Which then will speak; that you must change this purpose, Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, With these forced thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not Mine own, nor anything 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 anything That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: 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, disguised; CLOWN, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others. Flo. See, your guests approach: Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, And let's be red with mirth. Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived upon This day, she was both pantler, butler, cook; Both dame and servant: welcomed all; served all : With labour; and the thing, she took to quench it, Per. Welcome, Sir! It is my father's will, I should take on me [TO POL. The hostesship 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, 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 birta Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not To get slips of them. Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. Fort I have heard it said, There is an art, which, in their piedness, shares 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 And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race; This is an art Which does mend nature,-change it rather: but The art itself is nature. Per. So it is. Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers, And do not call them bastards. Per. I'll not put The dibble in earth to set one slip of them: No more than, were I painted, I would wish This youth should say, 'twere well; and only therefore Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; Per. Out, alas! You'd be so lean, that blasts of January Would blow you through and through.-Now, my fairest friend, I would, I had some flowers o' the spring, that might Become your time of day; and yours, and yours; That wear upon your virgin branches yet Your maidenheads growing:-0 Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall. I. e. they are not wholly natural, but owe their streaks to the gardener's art. From Dis's waggon! daffodils,' That come before the swallow dares, and take Flo. What? like a corse ? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; Not like a corse: 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 disposition. Flo. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever: when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms; To sing them too: When you do dance, I wish you So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large: but that your youth, Flo. I think, you have As little skillt to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't.-But, come; our dance, I pray : That never mean to part. Per. I'll swear for 'em. Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does, or seems, But smacks of something greater than herself; Too noble for this place. Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out: Good sooth she is The queen of curds and cream. Clo. Come on, strike up. * Living. + Reason. + Green turf. |