My dainty duck, my dear-a?

Any filk, any thread,

Any toys for your bead,

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

Come to the pedler;

Money's a medler.

That doth utter all men's ware-a.

[Exeunt Clown, Autolycus, Dorcas, and Mopfa.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Mafter, there are three goat-herds, three fhepherds, three neat-herds, three fwine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair; they call themselves, faltiers and they have a dance, which the wenches fay 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 fome, that know little but bowling) it will please plentifully.

Shep. Away! we'll none on't; here has been too much homely foolery already :-I know, fir, we weary you. Pol. You weary thofe that refresh us: Pray, let's fee thefe four threes of herdfmen.

Ser. One three of them, by their own report, fir, hath danc'd before the king; and not the worst of the three, but jumps twelve foot and a half by the fquare.

W

Shep. Leave your prating; fince these good men are pleas'd, let them come in; but quickly now. Ser. Why, they ftay at door, fir.

x

Here a dance of twelve Satyrs.

Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.

utter]-bring forth.

smen of hair;)]-hairy, fatyrs.

'faltiers :]-vaulters, tumblers.

know little but bowling]--can only dance upon a bowling green. wjquire, rule.

* O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.]-This line is probably a reply to fome hint, thrown out by the old Jhepherd, of the certainty of a marriage between Florizel and Perdita,

Is

Is it not too far gone?-'Tis time to part them.-
He's fimple, and tells much.-(Afide.) How now, fair
fhepherd ?

Your heart is full of fomething, that doth take
Your mind from feafting. Sooth, when I was young,
And handed love, as you do, I was wont

To load my fhe with knacks: I would have ranfack'd
The pedler's filken treasury, and have pour'd it
To her acceptance; you have let him go,

* And nothing marted with him: If your lafs
Interpretation fhould abufe; 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 fir, I know,

She prizes not fuch trifles as thefe are:

The gifts, fhe looks from me, are pack'd, and lock'd,
Up in my heart; which I have given already,
But not deliver'd.-O, hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient fir, who, it should feem,
Hath fometime lov'd: I take thy hand; this hand,
As foft as dove's down, and as white as it;

Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd fnow,

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 have put you out :-
But, to your proteftation; let me hear

y And nothing marted with him :]And made no purchase of him.

2 bolted]-fifted, purified.

Than

Than he, and men; the earth, the heavens, and all:
That, were I crown'd the moft imperial monarch,
Thereof moft worthy; were I the fairest youth

That ever made eye fwerve; 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 fhews a found affection.

Shep. But my daughter,

Say you the like to him?

Per. I cannot fpeak

So well, nothing fo 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 fhall have more than you can dream of yet;
Enough then for your wonder: But, come on,
Contract us 'fore thefe witnesses.

Shep. Come, your hand;

And, daughter, yours.

Pol. Soft, fwain, a while, befeech you;

Have you a father?

Flo. I have: But what of him?

Pol. Knows he of this?

Flo. He neither does, nor fhall.

Pol. Methinks, a father

Is, at the nuptial of his fon, a guest

That

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

Is not your father grown incapable

Of reasonable affairs? Is he not stupid

With age, and altering rheums? Can he fpeak? hear?
Know man from man? difpute his own eftate?

a

Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing,

But what he did being childish?

Flo. No, good fir;

He has his health, and ampler ftrength, indeed,
Than most have of his age.

Pol. By my white beard,

You offer him, if this be fo, a wrong

Something unfilial: Reafon, my fon

Should chuse himself a wife; but as good reason,

The father (all whofe joy is nothing else

But fair pofterity) fhould hold fome counfel
In fuch a bufinefs.

Flo. I yield all this;

But, for fome other reafons, my grave fir,

Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint

My father of this business.

Pol. Let him know't.

Flo. He fhall not.

Pol. Pr'ythee, let him.

Flo. No, he must not.

Shep. Let him, my fon; he fhall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice.

Flo. Come, come, he must not :

Mark our contract.

Pol. Mark your divorce, young fir, [Difcovering himself. Whom fon I dare not call; thou art too base

To be acknowledg'd: Thou a fcepter's heir,

That thus affect'ft a fheep-hook !-Thou old traytor,

a difpute his own eftate ?-affert, vindicate his title to it. VOL. II.

T t

I am

I am forry, that, by hanging thee, I can but
Shorten thy life one week.-And thou, fresh piece
Of excellent witchcraft; who, of force, must know
The royal fool thou cop'ft with ;-

Shep. O, my heart!

Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briars, and made
More homely than thy ftate.-For thee, fond boy,-
If I may ever know, thou doft but figh,

That thou no more fhalt never see this knack, (as never
I mean thou fhalt) we'll bar thee from fucceffion;
Not hold thee of our blood, no not our kin,

* Farre 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 dead blow of it.-And you, enchantment,-
Worthy enough a herdfman; yea, him too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee,-if ever, henceforth, thou

These rural latches to his entrance open,

Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
I will devise a death as cruel for thee,
As thou art tender to it.

Per. Even here undone !

[Exit.

I was not much afeard: for once, or twice,
I was about to speak; and tell him plainly,
The self-fame fun, that shines upon his court,
Hides not his vifage from our cottage, but
Looks on both alike.-Wilt please you, fir, be gone?
[To Florizel.

e

I told you, what would come of this: 'Beseech you,
Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,—
Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,

But milk my ewes, and weep.

b knack,]-minx, toy, plaything. churl,]-ruftick.

Farre]-further.

this dream]-as for this dream.

Cam.