more than all the lawyers in Bithynia can learnedly handle, though they come to him by the grofs; inkles, caddiffes, cambricks, lawns: why, he fings 'em over, as they were gods or goddeffes; you would think, a fmock were a fhe-angel; he fo chants to the fleeveband, and the work about the square on't.

Clo. Pr'ythee, bring him in, and let him approach finging. Per. Forewarn him that he use no fcurrilous words in's tunes. Clo. You have of these pedlers that have more in them than you'd think, fifter.

Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think.

Enter Autolicus finging.

Lawn as white as driven fnow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow;
Gloves as fweet as damask roses,
Mafks for faces, and for nofes;
Bugle-bracelets, necklace amber,
Perfume for a lady's chamber;
Golden quoifs, and ftomachers,
For my lads to give their dears;
Pins, and poking-flicks of steel,
What maids lack from head to heel :

Come, buy of me, come: come, buy, come, buy,
Buy, lads, or elfe your laffes cry: come, buy.

Clo. If I were not in love with Mopfa, thou should'st take no money of me: but being enthrall'd as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain ribands and gloves.

Mop. I was promis'd them against the feast, but they come not too late now.

Dor. He hath promis'd you more than that, or there be liars. Mop. He hath pay'd you all he promis'd you: 'may be, he has pay'd you more; which will shame you to give him again.

Clo. Is there no manners left among maids? will they wear their plackets where they should bear their faces? is there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kill-hole, to whistle

Bbb 2

off

off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all our guefts? 'tis well they are whispering: charm your tongues, and

not a word more.

Mop. I have done: come, you promised me a tawdry lace, and a pair of fweet gloves.

Clo. Have I not told thee, how I was cozen'd by the way, and lost all my money?

Aut. And indeed, fir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary.

Clo. Fear not thou, man, thou fhalt lofe nothing here. Aut. I hope fo, fir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.

Clo. What haft here? ballads?

Mop. Pray now, buy fome: I love a ballad in print, or a life; for then we are fure they are true.

Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a ufurer's wife was brought to bed with twenty money bags at a burden, and how she long'd to eat adders' heads, and toads carbonado’d. Mop. Is it true, think you?

Aut. Very true, and but a month old.

Dor. 'Blefs me from marrying a usurer!

Aut. Here's the midwife's name to't, one mistress Tale-porter, and five or fix honeft wives that were prefent. Why should I carry lies abroad?

Mop. Pray you now, buy it.

Clo. Come on, lay it by; and let's first see more ballads; we'll buy the other things anon.

Aut. Here's another ballad of a fish that appear'd upon the coaft, on wednesday the fourscore of april, forty thousand fadom above water, and fung 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 juftices' hands at it; and witneffes more than my pack will hold.

Clo.

Clo. Lay it by too: another.

Aut. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.
Mop. Let's have fome merry ones.

Aut. Why, this is a paffing merry one, and goes to the tune of Two maids wooing a man; there's fcarce a maid weftward but fhe fings it: 'tis in requeft, I can tell you.

Mop. We can both fing it; if thou'lt bear a part, thou shalt 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 occupation: have at it with you.

Song.

Aut. Get you bence, 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,

Thou to me thy fecrets tell.

Dor. Me too, let me go thither:

Mop. Or thou goeft to th' grange, or mill;

Dor. If to either, thou doft ill:

Aut. Neither.

Dor. What, neither?

Aut. Neither.

Dor. Thou haft fworn my love to be;

Mop. Thou haft fworn it more to me :

Then, whither goeft? fay, whither?

Clo. We'll have this fong 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.

Song.

Song.

Will you buy any tape, or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?

Any filk, any 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 mens ware-a.

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

SCENE VII.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Mafter, there are three goatherds, three fhepherds, three neatherds, and three fwineherds, that have made themselves all men of hair; they call themselves faltiers; 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 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, fir, 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, fir, hath danc’d before the king; and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and half by th' square.

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

Flo. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.

Here a dance of twelve fatyrs.

Pol. Is it not too far gone? 'tis time to part them : He's fimple, and tells much. How now, fair fhepherd ? Your heart is full of something that does take

Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young,

And

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

Flo. Old fir, I know,

She prizes not fuch trifles as these are;

The gifts the looks from me, are pack'd and lock’d
Up in my heart, which I have given already,
But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient fir, who, it fhould feem,
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 blast twice o'er.
Pol. What follows this?

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

What you profess.

Flo. Do, and be witnefs 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; 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 service,
Or to their own perdition.

Pol. Fairly offer'd.

Cam.