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I'll not put

A gentler scion to the wildest stock ;
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
By bud of nobler race; This is an art
Which does mend nature,-change it rather: but
The art itself is nature.

So it is.
Pol. Then make your garden rich in gillyflowers,
And do not call them bastards.

Per. The dibble’ in earth to set one slip of them : No more than, were I painted, I would wish This youth should say, 'twere well; and only there

fore Desire to breed by me.--Here's flowers for you ; Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, And with him rises weeping ; these are flowers Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given To men of middle age: You are very welcome. Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your

flock, And only live by gazing. Per.

Out, alas! You'd be so lean, that blasts of January Would blow you through and through.-Now, my

fairest friend, I would, I had some flowers o'the spring, that might Become your time of day; and

yours; That wear upon your virgin branches yet Your maidenheads growing :-0 Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim,

yours, and

- dibble - ] An instrument used by gardeners to make holes in the earth for the reception of young plants.

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phæbus in his strength, a malady
Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips, and
The crown-imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one! 0, these I lack,
To make you garlands of; and, my sweet friend,
To strew him o'er and o'er.

What? like a corse?
Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on;
Not like a corse: or if,—not to be buried,
But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your

flowers :
Methinks, I play as I have seen them do
In Whitsun' pastorals : sure, this robe of mine
Does change my disposition.

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
I'd have you do it ever: when

do it ever: when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too: When you do dance, I wish you A wave o'the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own No other function : Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens. Per.

O Doricles,

you do,


violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,] I suspect that our author mistakes Juno for Pallas, who was the goddess of blue eyes. Sweeter than an eye-lid is an odd image, but perhaps he uses sweet in the general sense for delightful. Johnson.

Each your doing, &c.] That is, your manner in each act crowns the act.

Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
And the true blood, which fairly peeps through it,
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd;
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles;
You woo'd me the false way.

I think, you have
As little skill to fear, as I have purpose
To put you to't.—But, come ; our dance, I pray:
Your hand, my Perdita : so turtles pair,
That never mean to part.

I'll swear for 'em. Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Ran on the green sward: nothing she does, or

seems, But smacks of something greater than herself ; Too noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out: Good sooth, she is The queen of curds and cream. Clo.


up. Dor. Mopsa must be your

mistress : marry, garlick, To mend her kissing with. Мор. .

Now, in good time! Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our

manners. Come, strike up.


Come on,

Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses.

Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what Fair swain is this, which dances with your daughter ? Shep. They call him Doricles ; and he boasts

himself To have a worthy feeding :' but I have it

we stand, &c.] That is, we are now on our behaviour. a worthy feeding :) I conceive feeding to be a, pasture,

Upon his own report, and I believe it ;
He looks like sooth: He says, he loves my daugh

I think so too: for never gaz'd the moon
Upon the water, as he'll stand, and read,
As 'twere, my daughter's eyes : and, to be plain,
I think, there is not half a kiss to choose,
Who loves another best.

She dances featly.
Shep. So she does any thing; though I report it,
That should be silent: if you ng Doricles
Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
Which he not dreams of.

Enter a Servant. Serv. O master, if you did but hear the pedler 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.

Sero. 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 : 8 jump her and thump her; and where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and break a foul gap into

and a worthy feeding to be a tract of pasturage not inconsiderable, not unworthy of my daughter's fortune. JOHNSON. ? He looks like sooth :] Sooth is truth. Obsolete.

- fadings :] An Irish dance of this name is mentioned by Ben Jonson, in The Irish Masque at Court.


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 admirableconceited 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,' cambricks, lawns; why, he sings them over, 'as they were gods or goddesses ; you would think, a smock were a sheangel : he so chants to the sleeve-hand, and the work about the

? 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.

square on't.

Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing.
Lawn, as white as driven snow;
Cyprus, black as e'er was crow;
Gloves, as sweet as damask roses ;
Masks for faces, and for noses ;


unbraided wares?] By unbraided wares, the Clown means, has he any thing besides laces which are braided, and are the principal commodity sold by ballad-singing pedlers.

caddisses,] Cadilis is, I believe, a narrow worsted gal. loon. I remember when very young to have heard it enumerated by a pedler among the articles of his pack. There is a very narrow slight serge of this name, now made in France. Inkle is a kind of tape also. Malone.

the sleeve-hand, and the work about the square on't.] Perhaps the sleeves and bosom part of a shift.


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