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porter, and five or fix honest wives that were present. Why should I carry lies abroad?

Mop. Pray you now, buy it. Clo. Come on, lay it by; and let's first see more ballad's we'll buy the other things anon.

Aut. Here's another ballad, of a fish that appear'd upon the coast, on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thoufand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids; it was thought, she was a woman, and was turn’d into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that lov'd her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.

Dor. Is it true too, think you?

Aut. Five justices hands at it; and witnesses more than my pack will hold.

Clo, Lay it by too; another.
Aut. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.
Mop. Let's have some merry ones.

Aut. Why, this is a passing merry one, and goes to the tune of, “ Two maids wooing a man;" there's scarce a maid westward, but she sings it : 'tis in request I can tell you.

Mop. We can both sing it : if thou'lt bear a part, thou fhalt hear, 'tis in three parts.

Dor. We had the tune on't a month ago.

Aut. I can bear my part ; you must know, 'tis my occu-
pation ; have at it with you.
Aut. Get you hence, for I must go,

Where it fits not you to know.
DOR. Whither?
Mop. O whither?
Dor. Whither?
Mop. It becomes thy oath full well,

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Thou to me thy secrets tell.
Dor. Me too, let me go thither :
Mop. Or thou goeft to th’ grange, or mill,
Dor. If to either, thou dost ill:
Aut. Neither.
Dor. What neither.
AUT. Neither.
Dor. Thou hast sworn my love to be ;
Mop. Thou hast sworn it more to me:

Then whither goeft? say, whither? Clo. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves; my father and the gentlemen are in fad talk, and we'll not trouble them : come, bring away thy pack after me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both. Pedler, let's have the first choice. Follow me, girls. AUT. And you shall pay well for ?em.

[afide.
S 0
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'st, fin'ft wear-a ?

Come to the pedler ;
Mony's

's a medler,
That doth utter all mens wear-a?

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

SCE N E VII. Enter a Servant. Ser. Master, there are three carters, three Thepherds, three neat-herds, and three swine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair, they call themselves Saltiers :

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and they have a dance, which the wenches say is a gally, maufry of gambols, because they are not in't: but they themselves are o'th' mind, if it be not too rough for some, 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, Sir, we weary you.

Pol. You weary those, that refresh us. Pray, let's see 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 square.

Shep. Leave your prating ; fioce these good men are pleas'd, let them come in; but quickly now.

Here a dance of twelve satyrs.
Pol. (aside.] 0, father, you'll know more of that here-
Is it not too far gone? 'tis time to part them. [after.
He's simple, and tells much -How now, fair shepherd ?
Your heart is full of something, that doth take
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young,
And handed love, as you do, I was wont
To load my she with knacks; I would have ransack'd
The pedler's Gilken treasury, and have pour'd iç
To her acceptance; you have let him go,
And no hing marted with him. If your lass
Interpretation should abuse, and call this
Your lack of love of 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 such trifles as these are ;
The gifts, she looks from me, art 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 sometime lov'd. take thy hand, this hand,
As soft as dove's down, and as white as it,
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow
That's bolted by the northern blast twice o'er.

Pol. What follows this?
How prettily the young swain seems to wash
The hand, was fair before!I've put you out
But, to your protestation : let' me hear
What you profess..

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 most imperial monarch
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
That ever made eye fwerve, and force and knowledge
More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
Without her love; for her imploy them all ;
Commend them, and condemn them, to her service,
Or to their own perdition.

Pol. Fairly offer'd.
CAM. This shews a sound affection.

Shep. But my daughter,
Say you the like to him?

Per. I cannot speak
So well, nothing so well, no, nor mean better.
By th' pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his.

Shep. Take hands, a bargain;

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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 shall have more than you can dream of yet,
Enough then for your wonder. But come on,
Contract us 'fore these witnesses.

Flo. Come, your hand,
And, daughter, yours.

Pol. Soft, swain, a while; 'beseech you,
Have you a father?

Flo. I have; but what of him?
Pol. Knows he of this?
Flo. He neither does nor shall,

Pol. Methinks, a father
Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest
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 alt'ring rheums? can he speak? hear?
Know man from man ? dispute his own estate ?
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 strength, indeed,
Than most have of his

age.
Pol. By my white beard,
You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
Something unfilial : Reason, my son
Should chuse himself a wife; but as good reason,
The father (all whose joy is nothing else

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