Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic,

To mend her kissing with.-
Mop. Now, in good time!

Clo. 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 daughter;
I think so too; for never gazed the moon

Upon the water, as he'll stand, and read,

As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and to be plain,

I think, there is not half a kiss to choose,

Who loves another best.

Pol. She dances featly.

Shep. So she does anything; though I report it, That should be silent: if young Doricles

Do light upon her, she shall bring him that

Which he not dreams of.

Enter a SERVANT.

[Music.

Serv. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar 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 their tunes.

Clo. 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 sung lamentably.

Serv. 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 dildos and fadings; jump her and thump her; and where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and break a foul gap in the matter, he makes the maid to answer, Whoop, do me no harm, good man; puts him off, slights him, with Whoop, do me no harm, good man.

Pol. This is a brave fellow.

Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares ?§

Serv. 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,|| cadisses, cambrics, 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 all the work about the square on't.tt

* Pasturage. Plain goods. ** The cuffs.

+ Truth.

+ Neatly.

Worsted galloon.
†† The work about the bosom.

A kind of riband.

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

Clo. 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.

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 bracelet, necklace-amber,
Perfume for a lady's chamber:
Golden quoifs, and stomachers,
For my lads to give my 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 lasses cry;

Come, buy, &c.

Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst 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.

Clo. Is there no manners left among maids? will they wear their placketst 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: Clam 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 told thee how I was cozened 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 so, Sír; for I have about me many parcels of charge.

Clo. 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.

* Steel ruff stiffeners.
+ Special pockets.
Fire-place for drying malt; still a noted gossiping-place.
Glue your tongue to your mouth, and have done with it.
A necklace.

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 longed to eat adders' heads, and toads carbonadoed.

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 Taleporter 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 appeared 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 turned into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that loved 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. 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.

A. Get you hence, for I must go;

Where, it fits not you to know.

D. Whither? M. O, whither? D. Whither?

M. It becomes thy oath full well,

Thou to me thy secrets tell :

D. Me too, let me go thither.

M. Or thou go'st to the grange, or mill :

D. If to either, thou dost ill.

A. Neither. D. What, neither? A. Neither.

D. Thou hast sworn my love to be;

M. Thou hast sworn it more to me:

Then, whither go'st? say, whither?

Clo. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves; My father and the gentleman are in sad* 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.

* Serious.

[Aside.

Will you buy any tape,
Or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?
Any silk, any thread,

Any toys for your head,

Of the new'st, and fin'st, fin'st wear-a?

Come to the pedler;

Money's a meddler,

That doth utter* all men's wear-a.

[Exeunt CLOWN, AUTOLYCUS, DORCAS, and MOPSA. Enter a SERVANT.

Serv. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair;t they call themselves saltiers: and they have a dance which the wenches say is gallimaufry § of gambols, because they are not in't; but they themselves are o'the 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 humble foolery already :-I know, Sir, we weary you.

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

Serv. One three of them, by their own report, Sir, hath danced before the king; and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squire.||

Shep. Leave your prating; since these good men are pleased,

let them come in; but quickly now.

Serv. Why, they stay at door, Sir.

[Exit.

Re-enter SERVANT, with twelve Rustics habited like Satyrs. They dance, and then exeunt.

Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.Is it not too far gone ?-Tis time to part them.-

He's simple, and tells much. [Aside.]-How now, fair shepherd? Your heart is full of something, that does take

Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young,

And handed love, as you do, I was wont

To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd

The pedler's silken 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 Sir, I know

She prizes not such trifles as these are:

* Vend.

+ Satyrs.
¶ Trafficked.

† Dressed themselves in habits imitating hair. | Square.

§ Medley.

**Put to difficulties.

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 my breath my life
Before this ancient Sir, who, it should seem,
Hath sometime loved: 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 blasts 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 you profess.

Flo. Do, and be witness to't.

Pol. And this my neighbour too?
Flo. And he, and more

Than he, and men; the earth, the heavens, and all:
That, were I crown'd the most 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.

Cam. This shows a sound affection.

Shep. But, my daughter,

Say you the like to him?

Per. I cannot speak

So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better:

By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his.

Shep. Take hands, a bargain;

And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't:
I give my daughter to him, and will make

Her portion equal his.

Flo. O, that must be

I' the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,
I shall have more than you can dream of yet;
Enough then for your wonder: But, come on,
Contract us 'fore these witnesses.

Shep. Come, your hand;

And, daughter, yours.

Pol. Soft, swain, awhile, 'beseech you;

Have you a father?

Flo. I have: But what of him?

Pol. Knows he of this?

Flo. He neither does, nor shall.

Pol. Methinks a father

Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest

That best becomes the table. Pray you, once more;

*Sifted.