Clo. Indeed, he should be a foot-man, by the 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 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 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? 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 any thing 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 trol-my-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 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: hẹ haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings.

2 The machine used in the game of pigeon-holes.

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?

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 but 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,
And merrily hent the stile-a:

A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

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,

Take hold of,

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 obscur'd 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.

I bless the time,

Flo.
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 greatness Hath not been us'd to fear.

Even now I tremble To think, your father, by some accident, Should pass this way, as you did: O, the fates! How would he look, to see his work, so noble, Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, 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.

4 Excesses.

5 Object of all men's notice.
7 i. e. Of station.

6 Dressed with ostentation.

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,
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.

Stand you auspicious!

O lady fortune,

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. 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 retir'd,
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.
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.

8

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

season

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.

Do you neglect them?

Per.

Wherefore, gentle maiden,

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

• Likeness and smell.

? Because that.