90 THE WINTER'S TALE. If tinkers may have leave to live, And bear the sow-skin budget, Then account I well may give, And in the stocks avouch it. My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to My father named me Autolycus ; lesser linen. who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With die and drab I purchased this caparison, and my Gallows and knock are revenue is the silly cheat. too powerful on the highway; beating and hanging are terrors to me: for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it.-A prize! a prize! Enter Clown. Clo. Let me see :-every 'leven wether tods; every tod yields pound and odd shilling: fifteen hundred shorn, what comes the wool to? Aut. [Aside.] If the springe hold, the cock 's mine. Clo. I cannot do 't without counters.-Let me see; what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? "Three pound of sugar; five pound of currants; rice,'-what will this sister of mine do with rice? But my father hath made her mist:ess man songmen all, and very good ones, but they are most of them means and bases: but one Puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have saffron, to colour the warden pies; mace; dates,-none; that's out of my note: 'nutmegs, seven : a race or two of ginger;' but that I may beg:-'four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun.' Aut. O, that ever I was born! [Grovelling on the ground. Clo. I' the name of me, Aut. O, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags, and then, death, death! Clo. Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off. Aut. O, sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more than the stripes I have received, which are mighty ones, and millions. 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 horseman, or a footman? Aut. A footman, sweet sir, a footman. 92 THE WINTER'S TALE. garments he hath left with thee if this be a horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee: come, lend me [Helping him up. thy hand. Aut. O, good sir, tenderly, O! Clo. Alas, poor soul ! Aut. O, good sir'; softly, good sir. I fear, sir, my shoulder-blade 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? money for thee. I have a little 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 Offer me no have money, or anything I want. 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 trol-iny-dames: I knew him once a servant of the prince. I cannot tell, good sir, for be ma coortainly THE WINTER'S TALE 93 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 that put me into this apparel. if rogue Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia: 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 and pace softly towards my kinsman's. my Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way? leave of you, 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 shearers prove sheep, let me be enrolled and my name put in the book of virtue ! Jog on, jog on, the foot path way, And merrily hent the stile a; Your sad tires in a mile-a. [Exit. SCENE III.The Same. A Lawn before 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, |