have not enough confidered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to thee fhall be my study, and my profit therein, the heaping friendship. Of that fatal country Sicilia pr'ythee fpeak no more, whofe very naming punishes me with the remembrance of that penitent, as thou call❜ft him, and reconciled King my brother, whofe lofs of his moft precious Queen and children are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when faw'st thou the Prince Florizel my fon? Kings are no less unhappy, their iffue not being gracious, than they are in lofing them, when they have approved their virtues.

Cam. Sir, it is three days fince I saw the Prince; what his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have (mufingly) noted, he is of late much retired from Court, and is lefs frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he hath appear'd.

Pol. I have confider'd so much, Camillo, and with some care so far, that I have eyes under my fervice, which look upon his removedness; from whom I have this intelligence, that he is feldom from the house of a moft homely fhepherd; a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unfpeakable eftate.

Cam. I have heard, Sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of moft rare note; the report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin from fuch a cottage. ;

Pol. That's likewife part of my intelligence; and, I fear, the angle that plucks our fon thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place, where we will (not appearing what we are) have some question with the shepherd; from whofe fimplicity, I think it not uneafie to get the caufe of my fon's refort thither. Pr'ythee be my prefent partner in this business, and lay afide the thoughts of Sicilia, Cam. I willingly obey your command.

Pol. My beft Camillo, we muft difguise our felves. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The Country. Enter Autolicus finging, When daffadils begin to peere,

With hey the doxy over the dale,

Why then comes in the fweet o' th'year:

For the red blood reigns o'er the winter's pale.

The

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,
With bey the fweet birds, O how they fing!
Doth fet my progging tooth on edge,

For a quart of ale is a difh for a King.
The lark that tirra lyra chaunts,

With bey, with bey the thrush and the jay:
Are fummer fongs for me
and my aunts,

While we lye tumbling in the bay.

I have ferved Prince Florizel, and in my time wore threepile, but now I am out of fervice.

But fhall I go mourn for that, my dear?
The pale moon fhines by night:

And when I wander here and there,
I then do go moft right.

10

If tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the fow-fkin budget,
Then my account I well may give,
And in the flocks avouch it.

My traffic is fheets; when the kite builds, look to leffer linnen. My father nam'd me Autolicus, who being, as I am, litter'd under Mercury, was likewife a fnapper-up of unconfider'd trifles: with die and drab I purchas'd this ca parison, and my revenue is the fly cheat. Gallows and knocks are too powerful on the high-way, beating and hanging are terrers to me: for the life to some, I fleep out the thought of it. A prize! a prize!

Enter Clown.

Clo. Let me fee, every eleventh weather tods, every tod yields a pound and one odd fhilling; fifteen hundred fhorn, what comes the wooll to?

Aut. If the fprindge hold, the cock's mine. [Afide. *Clo. I cannot do't without compters. Let me fee, what am I to buy for our sheep-fhearing feaft? three pound of fugar, five pound of currants, rice what will this fifter of mine do with rice? but my father hath made her miftrefs of the feaft, and the lays it on. She hath made me four and twenty nofe-gays for the fhearers; † three-man fongMeaning the poor ragged cloaths he had on.

Meaning thofe who fing Catches which are generally in three parts.

men

men all, and very good ones, but they are most of them means and bases; but one puritan among them, and he fings pfalms to horn-pipes. I must have faffron to colour the warden-pies, mace-dates-none-that's out of my note: nutmegs, feven; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many raifins o'th' fun. Aut. Oh, that ever I was born! [Groveling on the ground. Clo. I' th' name of me

Aut. Oh, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags, and then death, death

Clo. Alack, poor foul, thou haft need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off.

Aut. Oh, Sir, the loathfomnefs of them offends me, more than the ftripes I have receiv'd, which are mighty ones, and millions.

Clo. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter.

Aut. I am robb'd, Sir, and beaten; my mony and apparel ta'en from me, and these deteftable things put upon me. Clo. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man?

Aut. A foot-man, fweet Sir, a foot-man.

Clo. Indeed, he should be a foot-man, by the garments he has left with thee; if this be a horfe-man's coat, it hath feen very hot fervice. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee. Come, lend me thy hand.

Aut. Oh! good Sir, tenderly, oh!
Clo. Alas, poor foul!

[Helping him up.

Aut. Oh good Sir, foftly, good Sir: I fear, Sir, my fhoulder-blade is out.

Clo. How now? canft ftand?

Aut. Softly, dear Sir; good Sir, foftly; you ha' done me a charitable office.

Clo. Doft lack any mony? I have a little mony for thee. Aut. No, good fweet Sir: no, I befeech you, Sir; I have a kinfman not paft three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I fhall there have mony, or any thing I want: offer me no mony, I pray you; that kills my heart.

Clo. What manner of fellow was he that robb'd you? Aut. A fellow, Sir, that I have known to go about with troli-madams: I knew him once a fervant of the Prince ; I

cannot

cannot tell, good Sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipp'd out of the Court.

Clo. His vices, you would fay; there's no virtue whipp'd out of the Court; they cherifh it to make it ftay there, and yet it will no more but abide.

Aut. Vices I would fay, Sir. I know this man well, he hath been fince an ape-bearer, then a procefs-ferver, a bailiff; then he compaft a motion* of the prodigal fon, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lyes; and having flown over many knavith profeffions, he fettled only in rogue; fome call him Autolicus. 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 Bithynia; if you had but look'd big, and spit at him, he'd have run.

Aut. I must confefs to you, Sir, I am no fighter; I am falfe of heart that way, and that he knew, I warrant him. Clo. How do you do now?

Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can ftand, and walk; I will even take my leave of you, and pace foftly towards my kinfman's.

Clo. Shall I bring thee on thy way

?

Aut. No, good-fac'd Sir; no, fweet Sir.

Clo. Then farewel, I muft go to buy fpices for our fheepthearing.

[Exit.

Aut. Profper you, fweet Sir! Your purfe is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your fheep-fhearing too: if I make not this cheat bring out anether, and the fhearers prove fheep, let me be unroll'd, † and my name put into the book of virtue.

SCENE IV. The old Shepherd's Houfe.
Enter Florizel and Perdita.

Flo. These your unufual weeds to each part of you
Do give a life: no fhepherdefs, but Flora

Peering in April's front.

This your fheep-fhearing

1s a meeting of the petty Gods, And you the Queen on't.

Per. Sir, my gracious Lord,

To chide at your extreams it not becomes me:
Oh pardon, that I name them; your high self,
The gracious mark o'th' land, you have obscur'd
With a fwain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,
Moft Goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feafts
every mefs have folly, and the feeders

In

Digeft it with a custom; I should blush
To fee you fo attired, fwoon, I think,
To fhew my felf a glass.

Flo. I blefs the time

When my good falcon made her flight a-cross
Thy father's ground.

Per. Now Jove afford you caufe!

To me the difference forges dread, your greatnefs
Hath not been us'd to fear; even now I tremble
To think your father, by fome accident,

Should pass this way, as you did: oh the fates,
How would he look to fee his work, fo noble,
Vilely bound up ! what would he fay! or how
Should I in thefe my borrow'd flaunts behold
The fternness of his presence!

A

Flo. Apprehend

Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The fhapes of beafts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd God,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble fwain,
As I feem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way fo chafte; fince my defires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts

Burn