Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Antolicus singing.

When Daffadils begin to peere, With heigh the Doxy ouer the dale. Why then comes in the sweet o' the yeere, For the red blood raigns in y^e winters pale.

The white sheete bleaching on the hedge, With boy the sweet birds, O how they sing: Doth set my pugging tooth an edge, For a quart of Ale is a dish for a King.

The Larke that tirra Lyra chaunts, With heigh, the Thrush and the Iay: Are Summer songs for me and my Aunts While we lye tumbling in the hay.

I haue seru'd Prince Florizell, and in my time wore three pile, but now I am out of seruice.

But shall I go mourne for that (my deere) the pale Moone shines by night: And when I wander here, and there I then do most go right. If Tinkers may haue leaue to liue, and beare the Sow-skin Bowget, Then my account I well may giue, and in the Stockes auouch-it.

My Trafficke is sheetes: when the Kite builds, looke to lesser Linne••. My Father nam'd me Autolicus, who be∣ing (as I am) lytter'd vnder Mercurie, was likewise a snapper-vp of vnconsidered trifles: With Dye and drab, I purchas'd this Caparison, and my Reuennew is the silly Cheate. Gallowes, and Knocke, are too powerfull on the Highway. Beating and hanging are terrors to mee: For the life to come, I sleepe out the thought of it. A prize, a prize.

Enter Clowne.

Clo.

Let me see, euery Leauen-weather toddes, euery tod yeeldes pound and odde shilling: fifteene hundred shorne, what comes the wooll too?

Aut.

If the sprindge hold, the Cocke's mine.

Clo.

I cannot do't without Compters. Let mee see, what am I to buy for our Sheepe-shearing-Feast? Three pound of Sugar, fiue pound of Currence, Rice: What will this sister of mine do with Rice? But my father hath made her Mistris of the Feast, and she layes it on. Shee hath made-me four and twenty Nose-gayes for the shea∣rers (three-man song-men, all, and very good ones) but they are most of them Meanes and Bases; but one Pur∣itan amongst them, and he sings Psalmes to horne-pipes. I must haue Saffron to colour the Warden Pies, Mace: Dates, none: that's out of my note: Nutmegges, seuen; a Race or two of Ginger, but that I may begge: Foure pound of Prewyns, and as many of Reysons o' th Sun.

Aut.

Oh, that euer I was borne.

Clo.

I' th' name of me.

Aut.

Oh helpe me, helpe mee: plucke but off these ragges: and then, death, death.

Clo.

Alacke poore soule, thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather then haue these off.

Aut.

Oh sir, the loathsomnesse of them offend mee, more then the stripes I haue receiued, which are mightie ones and millions.

Clo.

Alas poore man, a million of beating may come to a great matter.

Aut.

I am rob'd sir, and beaten: my money, and ap∣parrell tane from me, and these derestable things put vp∣on me.

Clo.

What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man?

Aut.

A footman (sweet sir) a footman.

Clo.

Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments he has left with thee: If this bee a horsemans Coate, it hath seene very hot seruice. Lend me thy hand, Ile helpe thee. Come, lend me thy hand.

Aut.

Oh good sir, tenderly, oh.

Clo.

Alas poore soule.

Aut.

Oh good sir, softly, good sir: I feare (sir) my shoulder-blade is out.

Clo.

How now? Canst stand?

Aut.

Softly, deere sir: good sir, softly: you ha done me a charitable office.

Clo.

Doest lacke any mony? I haue a little mony for thee.

Aut.

No, good sweet sir: no, I beseech you sir: I haue a Kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, vnto whome I was going: I shall there haue money, or anie thing I want: Offer me no money I pray you, that killes my heart.

Clow.

What manner of Fellow was hee that robb'd you?

Aut.

A fellow (sir) that I haue knowne to goe about with Troll-my-dames: I knew him once a seruant of the Prince: I cannot tell good sir, for which of his Ver∣tues it was, but hee was certainely Whipt out of the Court.

Clo.

His vices you would say: there's no vertue whipt 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 bene since an Ape-bearer, then a Processe-seruer (a Bayliffe) then hee compast a Motion of the Prodigall sonne, and married a Tinkers wife, within a Mile where my Land and Liuing lyes; and (hauing flowne ouer ma∣ny knauish professions) he setled onely in Rogue: some call him Autolicus.

Clo.

Out vpon him: Prig, for my life Prig: he haunts Wakes, Faires, and Beare-baitings.

Aut.

Very true sir: he sir hee: that's the Rogue that put me into this apparrell.

Clo.

Not a more cowardly Rogue in all Bohemia; If you had but look'd bigge, and spit at him, hee'ld haue runne.

Aut.

I must confesse to you (sir) I am no fighter: I am false of heart that way, & that he knew I warrant him.

Clo.

How do you now?

Aut.

Sweet sir, much better then I was: I can stand, and walke: I will euen take my leaue of you, & pace soft∣ly towards my Kinsmans.

Clo.

Shall I bring thee on the way?

Aut.

No, good fac'd sir, no sweet sir.

Clo.

Then fartheewell, I must go buy Spices for our sheepe-shearing.

Exit.

Aut.

Prosper you sweet sir. Your purse is not hot e∣nough to purchase your Spice: Ile be with you at your sheepe-shearing too: If I make not this Cheat bring out another, and the sheerers proue sheepe, let me be vnrold, and my name put in the booke of Vertue.

Song

Iog-on, Iog-on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the Stile-a: A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tyres in a Mile-a.

Exit.