Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Doth fet my pugging tooth on edge :

For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

The lark, that tirra-lyra chaunts,

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

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

I have ferv'd prince Florizel, and in my time wore threepile, but now I am out of service.

But fhall I go mourn for that, my dear?

The pale moon shines by night :

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

If tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the fow-fkin budget;
Then my account I well may give,

And in the ftocks avouch it.

My traffick is fheets; when the kite builds, look to leffer linen. My father nam'd me Autolicus, who being, as I am, litter'd under Mercury, was likewise a snapper up of unconfider'd trifles with die and drab, I purchas'd this caparifon; and my revenue is the filly cheat. Gallows, and knock, are two powerful on the high-way; beating and hanging are terrors to me: for the life come, I fleep out the thought of it.-A prize! a prize!

SCENE III. Enter Clown.

CLO. Let me fee, Every eleven weather tods, every tod yields pound and odd fhilling; fifteen hundred fhorn, what comes the wool to?

AUT. If the fpring hold, the cock's mine- [Afide. CLO. I cannot do't without coupters.-Let me fee, what

am I to buy for our fheep-fhearing feaft, three pounds of fugar, five pound of currants: rice! -what will this fifter of mine do with rice? but my father hath made her mistress of the feaft, and fhe lays it on. She hath made me four and twenty nofe-gays for the fhearers; three-man fong-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 saffron to colour the wardenpies, mace dates. -none- - that's out of my note: nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pounds of prunes, and as many raisins 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 soul, thou haft need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off.

AUT. Oh, fir, the loathsomeness 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, fir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta’en from me, and these detestable things put upon me. CLO. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man.

AUT. A foot-man, fweet fir, a foot-man.

CLO. Indeed, he should be a foot-man, by the garments he hath left with thee; if this be a horse-man's coat, it hath feen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee. Come, lend me thy hand. [helping him up.

AUT. Oh! good fir, tenderly, oh!
CLO. Alas, poor foul.

AUT. O good fir, foftly, good fir: I fear, fir, my fhoulder-blade is out.

CLO. How now? canft ftand?

AUT. Softly, dear fir; good fir, 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 beseech you, Sir; I have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I fall 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 trol-my-dames: I knew him once a fervant of the prince: I 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 cherish it to make it stay there, and yet it will no more but abide.

AUT. Vices I would fay, Sir, I know this man well, he hath been since an ape-bearer, then a procefs-ferver, a bailiff; then he compass'd a motion of the prodigal fon, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lies; and, having flown over many knavifh profeffions, he fettled only in rogue; fome call him Autolycus.

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 Bohemia; if you had but look'd big, and fpit at him, he'd have run.

AUT. I must confefs to you, Sir, I am no fighter; I am falfe at heart that way, and that he knew, I warrant him.

CLO. How do you now?

AUT. Sweet fir, much better than I was; I can stand,

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 must go to buy spices for our fheep-fhearing.

AUT. Profper you, fweet Sir!

enough to purchase your fpice.

[Exit.

-Your purfe is not hot

I'll be with you at your

sheep-fhearing too; if I make not this cheat bring out another, and the fhearers prove sheep, let me be unroll'd, and my name put into the book of virtue.

SONG.

Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
And merrily hent the ftile-a.

A merry heart goes all the day,

Your fad tires in a mile-a.

SCENE IV. The prospect of a shepherd's cott.

Enter Florizel and Perdita.

FLO. Thefe your unusual weeds to each part of you
Do give a life: no fhepherdess, but Flora

Peering in April's front. This your sheep-fhearing
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,

And you the queen on't.

PER. Sir, my gracious lord,

To chide at your extremes it not becomes me :
Oh pardon, that I name them: your high self,
The gracious mark o'th' land, you have obfcur'd
With a fwain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,

[Exit.

Moft goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feasts
In every mefs have folly, and the feeders
Digeft it with a custom, I should blush

To fee you so attired; fworn; I think,
To fhew myself a glass.

FLO. I blefs the time,

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

PER. Now Jove afford you cause!

To me the difference forges dread, your greatness
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 see his work, fo noble,
Vilely bound up! what would he fay, or how
Should I in these my borrow'd flaunts behold
The fternness of his prefence!
FLO. Apprehend

Nothing but jollity: The gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shapes of beafts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
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 hotter than my faith.

PER. O, but, dear Sir,

Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd, as it must be, by th' power o'th' king.

« ZurückWeiter »