T'hat which you are, mistress o'the feast: come on, [to Polixenes. 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 A gentler scion to the wildest stock; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race; this is an art For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall That come before the swallow darcs, and take Flo. What? like a corse? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play oo, Not like a corse: or if,-not to be buried, But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers: I'd have you do it ever: when you sing, So singular in each particular, Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large but that your youth, Which does mend nature,-change it rather; but With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, Per. So it is. You woo'd me the false way. Flo. I think, you have Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly- As little skill to fear, as I have purpose flowers, And do not call them bastards. Per I'll not put The dibble in earth to set one slip of them: Desire to breed by me.-Here's flowers for you! Per. Out, alas! [Block, To put you to't. But, come ;, our dance, I pray. 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 his 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. . Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou should'st 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 promis'd them against the feast; but they come not too late now. Dor. He hath promis'd you more than that, or there be liars. Mop. He hath paid you all he promis'd 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 plaikets, 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: clamour your tongues, and not a word more. Mop. I have done. Come, you promis'd me a tawdry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves. Clo. Have I not told thee, how was cozencd by the way, and lost all my mongy ? 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, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge. Clo. What hast here? ballads? Mop. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in 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-print, a'-life, for then we are sure they are true. mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and break a foul gap into 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, caddisses, 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 the work about the square on't. 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. Lawn, as white as driven snow; Come, buy of me, come: come buy, come buy: 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. 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 baïlad 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 sings it; "tis in request, I can tell you. Mop. We can both sing it; if thou'lt bear part, thou shalt hear; 'tis three parts. Dor. We had the tune on't a month ago. For a reply, at least, if you make a care my occupation: have at it with you. Aut. Get you hence, for I must go ; Dor. Whither? Mop. O whither? Dor. Whither? Thou to me thy secrets tell : Dor. Me too, let me go thither. Mop. Or thou go'st to the grange, or mill: Dor. If to either, thou dost ill. Aut. Neither. Dor. What, neither? Aut. Neither. Then whither go'st? say, whither? Clo. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves: My father and the gentlemen 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. [aside. Serv. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair; they call themselves saltiers: and they have a dance which the wenches say is a 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 Flo. Old sir, I know She prizes not such trifles as these are: The gifts, she looks from me, are pack'd and Up in my heart; which I have given already As soft as dove's down, and as white as it; How prettily the young swan seems to wash out: But, to your protestation; let me hear Flo. Do, and be witness to't. Pol. And this my neighbour too? Than he, and men; the earth, the heavens, and That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch, More than was ever man's,-I would not prize Without her love for her, employ them all; Pol. Fairly offer'd. Cam. This shows a sound affection. Say you the like to him? Per. I cannot speak So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better: Shep. Take hands, a bargain;- Flo. O, that must be I'the virtue of your daughter: one being dead, Shep. Come, your hand ;— Pol. Soft, swain, awhile, 'beseech you; Flo. I have: but what of him? Flo. He neither does, nor shall. Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest more Pray you, once Is not your father grown incapable hear? Know man from man? dispute his own estate? Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing, But what he did being childish? Flo. No, good sir; He has his health, and ampler strength, indeed, Than most have of his age. Pol. By my white beard, You offer him, if this be so, a wrong Flo. I yield all this; But, for some other reasons, my grave sir, Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint My father of this business. Pol. Let him know't. Flo. He shall not. Pol. Pr'ythee, let him. Flo. No, he must not. [grieve Shep. Let him, my son; he shall not need to At knowing of thy choice. Flo. Come, come, he must not : Mark our contract. Pol. Mark your divorce, young sir, [discovers himself. Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base To be acknowledg'd: Thou a sceptre's heir, That thus affect'st a sheep-hook!-Thou, old traitor, I am sorry, that, by hanging thee, I can but must [know Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briars, and made [boy,More homely than thy state. For thee, fond If I may ever know, thou dost but sigh, That thou no more shalt see this knack, (as never I mean thou shalt,) we'll bar thee from succession; Not hold thee of our blood, no not our kin, Far than Deucalion off:-Mark thou my words; Follow us to the court.-Thou churl, for this time, Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee From the dread blow of it.-And you, enchant I was not much afeard: for once, or twice, Where no priest shovels in dust.-O cursed wretch ! That knew'st this was the prince, and would'st adventure To mingle faith with him.-Undone! undone ! [to Per. [exit. If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd Flo. Why look you so upon me? My leash unwillingly. Cam. Gracious my lord, You know your father's temper: at this time Flo. I not purpose it,— Cam. Even he, my lord. Per How often have I told you, 'twould be How often said, my dignity would last Flo. It cannot fail, but by Cam. Be advis'd. Flo. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason Will thereto be obedient, I have reason; If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness, Do bid it welcome. Cam. This is desperate, sir. Flo. So call it but it does fulfil my vow; With her, whom here I cannot hold on shore: Resolv'd for flight; Now were I happy, if Flo. Now, good Camillo, I am so fraught with curious business, that I leave out ceremony. Cam. Sir, I think, [going. Sir, To greet him, and to give him comforts. The which shall point you forth at every sitting Flo. I am bound to you: There is some sap in this. Cam. A course more promising Than a wild dedication of yourselves [certain, To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores; most You have heard of my poor services, i'the love Nothing so certain as your anchors: who Your gracious self; embrace but my direction, Fla. How, Camillo, May this, almost a miracle, be done? Do their best office, if they can but stay you, Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Per. One of these is true: I think, affliction may subdue the cheek, MONIT But not take in the mind. Cam. Yea, say you so? But, O, the thorns we stand upon!-Camillo, Preserver of my father, now of me;odi Beal * That I may call thee something more than man, The medicin of our house! how shall we do sal And, after that, trust to thee. Cam. Have you thought on A place, whereto you'll go? Flo. Not any yet: But as the unthought-on accident is guilty Cam. Then list to me: We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son; wool Nor shall appear in Sicily- NE Cam. My lord, Fear none of this: I think, you know, my fortunes Aut. Ha, ha! what a fool honesty is! and trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a riband, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first; as if my trinkets had been hallowed, and brought a bene diction to the buyer: by which means, I saw whose purse was best in picture; and, what I saw, to my good use, I remembered. My clown (who wants but something to be a reasonable man,) |