SONG.

Will you buy any tape,
Or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?
And filk, and thread,
Any toys for your head

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.

6

[Ex. Clown, Autolycus, Dorcas, and Mopfa.

SCENE VII.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Mafter, there are three carters, three fhepherds, three neat-herds, and three fwine herds, that have made themselves all men of hair7; they call themfelves

Mafter, there are three Carters, three Shepherds, three Neatherds, and three Swine herds,-] Thus all the printed Copies hitherto. Now, in two Speeches after this, these are called four three's of Herdsmen. But could the Carters properly be called Herd/men? At least, they have not the final Syllable, Herd, in their Names; which, I believe, Shakespeare intended, all the four three's fhould have. I therefore guefs that he wrote; -Mafter, there are three Goat herds, &c. And fo, I think, we take in the four Species of Cattle ufually tended by Herdmen.

all men of hair,] i. e. nimble, that leap as if they rebounded: The phrase is taken from tennis balls, which were ftuffed with hair. So in Henry V. it is faid of a courfer,

He bounds as if his entrails were bairs. WARBURTON. This is a ftrange interpretation. Errors, fays Dryden, flow upon the furface, but there are men who will fetch them from the bottom. Men of hair are hairy men, or fatyrs. A dance of fatyrs was no unufual entertainment in the middle ages At a great feftival celebrated in France, the king and fome of THEOBALD. the nobles perfonated fatyrs X 3

dreffed

felves Saltiers: and they have a dance, which the wenches fay is a gallymaufry of gambols, because they are not in't: but they themselves are o'th' mind, if it be not too rough for fome, that know little but bowling, it will pleafe plentifully.

Shep. Away, we'll none on't; here has been too much homely foolery already. I know, Sir, we weary

you.

Pol. You weary thofe, that refresh us. Pray, let's fee these four-threes of herdsmen.

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

Shep. Leave your prating; fince these good men are pleas'd, let them come in; but quickly now. Here a Dance of twelve Satyrs.

Pol. [afide.] O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter 8.

Is it not too far gone? 'tis time to part them.
He's fimple, and tells much.-How now, fair fhep-
herd?

Your heart is full of fomething, that doth take
Your mind from feafting. Sooth, when I was young,

dreffed in close habits, tufted or fhagged all over, to imitate hair. They began a wild dance, and in the tumult of their merriment one of them went too near a candle, and fet fire to his fatyr's garb; the flame ran inftantly over the loose tufts, and spread itself to the drefs of thofe that were next him; a great number of the dancers were cruelly fcorched, being neither able to throw off their coats nor extinguish them. The king had fet himself in the lap of the duchefs

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 lass
Interpretation fhould abuse, and call this
Your lack of love or bounty; you were straited
For a reply, at least, if you make care
Of happy holding her.

Flo. Old Sir, I know,

She prizes not fuch trifles as these are;

The gifts, the looks from me, are packt and lockt
Up in my heart, which I have given already,
But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my love
Before this ancient Sir, who, it should seem,
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 blaft twice o'er.
Pol. What follows this?

How prettily the young fwain feems to wash
The hand, was fair before !-I've put you out-
But, to your proteftation: let me hear

What you profefs.

Flo. Do, and be witness to't.

Pol. And this my neighbour too?

Flo. And he, and more

Than he, and men; the earth, and heav'ns, 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 fervice,
Or to their own perdition.

Pol. Fairly offer'd.

Cam. This fhews a found affection.

Shep. But, my daughter,

;

X 4

Say

So well, nothing fo well, no, nor mean better.
By th' 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'th' 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 beft becomes the table: 'pray you once more, Is not your father grown incapable

Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid

With age, and alt'ring rheums? can he speak? hear?
Know man from man? difpute his own eftate??
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 ftrength, indeed,
Than most have of his age.

Pol. By my white beard,

You offer him, if this be so, a wrong.

9

difpute his own eftate ?] Perhaps for difpute we might read compute; but difpute his ef

tate may be the fame with talk over his affairs.

Something

Something unfilial: Reason, my fon,

Should chufe himself a wife; but as good reafon,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else

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

Flo. I yield all this;

But for fome other reasons, my grave Sir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this bufinefs.

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 shall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice.

Fio. Come, come, he must not:

Mark our contract.

Pol. Mark your divorce, young Sir,

[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,
I'm 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 beautyfcratch'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 fee this knack, as never
I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from fucceffion;
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,

Far than Deucalion off. Follow us to the court.

Far than.] I think for far than we should read far as. We will not hold thee of our kin

Mark thou my words; Thou churl, for this time,

even fo far off as Deucalion the common ancestor of all.

Tho'