grew so in love with the wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes, till he had both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the herd to me, that all their other senses stuck in ears; you might have pinched a placket, it was senseless; 'twas nothing, to geld a cod-piece of a purse; I would have filed keys off, that hung in chains : no hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song, and admiring the nothing of it." So that, in this time of lethargy, I picked and cut most of their festival purses: and had not the old man come in with a whoobub against his daughter and the king's son, and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the whole army.

[Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita, come forward. Cam. Nay, but my letters by this means being


So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
Flo. And those, that you'll procure from king

Cam. Shall satisfy your father.

Per. Happy be you!

All, that you speak, shows fair.

Cam. Who have we here? [seeing Autolycus. We'll make an instrument of this; omit to th Nothing, may give us aid.

Aut. If they have overheard me now,-why, hanging. [aside. Cam. How now, good fellow? Why shakest thou so? Fear not, man; here's no harm intended to thee.


Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir.

Cam. Why, be so still; here's nobody will steal that from thee: yet, for the outside of thy poverty, we must make an exchange: therefore, discase thee instantly, (thou must think there's necessity in't,) and change garments with this gentleman: though the pennyworth, on his side, be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot."

Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir :-I know ye well

Cam. Nay, pr'ythee, despatch: the gentleman is half flayed already.

Aut. Are you in earnest, sir?-I smell the
trick of it.
wwbt [aside.

Flo. Despatch, I pr'ythee. Aut. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with conscience take it.

Per. I see, the play so lies,

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Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle. [they change clothes. Fortunate mistress,-let my prophecy Come home to you!-you must retire yourself Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat, And pluck it o'er your brows; muffle your face; Dismantle you; and as you can, disliken The truth of your own seeming; that you may, (For I do fear eyes over you,) to shipboard

Get undescried.

That I must bear a part.

Cam. No remedy.

Have you done there?

Flo. Should I now meet my father, He would not call me son.

Cam. Nay, you shall have

No hat:-Come, lady, come.-Farewell, my Aut. Adieu, sir.


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[exeunt Florizel, Perdita, and Camillo. Aut. I understand the business, I hear it: to have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose quisite also, to smell out work for the other senses.


I see, this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been, without boot? what a boot is here, with this exchange? Sure, the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of iniquity, stealing away from his father, with his clog at his heels: if I thought it were not a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would do't: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my profession.

ad wor

Enter Clown and Shepherd.

Aside, aside;-here is more matter for a hot brain every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a careful man work.


Clo. See, see; what a man you are now there is no other way, but to tell the king she's changeling, and none of your flesh and blood. Shep. Nay, but hear me. Clo. Nay, but hear me. Shep. Go to, then.


Clo. She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh and blood has not offended the king; and, so, your flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show those things you found about her; those secret things, all but what she has with her. This being done, let the law go whistle; I warrant you.

Shep. I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man neither to his father, nor to me, to go about to make me the king's brother-in-law.


Clo. Indeed, brother-in-law was the furthest off you could have been to him; and then your blood had been the dearer, by I know how much an ounce.


Aut. Very wisely; puppies!

Laside. Shep. Well; let us to the king; there is that in this fardel, will make him scratch his beard. Aut. I know not what impediment this com plaint may be to the flight of my master.

Clo. 'Pray heartily he be at palace.

Aut. Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance.-Let me pocket up my pedler's excrement.-[takes off his false beard.] How now, rustics? whither are you bound?

Shep. To the palace, an it like your worship. Aut. Your affairs there? what? with whom? the condition of that fardel, the place of your

dwelling, your names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and any thing that is fitting to be known, discover.

Clo. We are but plain fellows, sir.

Aut. A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no lying; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us the lie.

Clo. Your worship had like to have given us one, if you had not taken yourself with the


Shep. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir? Aut. Whether it like me, or no, I am a courtier. See'st thou not the air of the court, in these enfoldings? hath not my gait in it the measure of the court? receives not thy nose court-odour from me? reflect I not on thy baseness courtcontempt? Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, or toze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I am courtier, cap-à-pe; and one that will either push on, or pluck back, thy business there: whereupon I command thee to open thy affair.

Shep. My business, sir, is to the king.
Aut. What advocate hast thou to him?
Shep. I know not, an't like you.

Clo. Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant;
say, you have none.

Shep. None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor Aut. How bless'd are we, that are not simple Yet nature might have made me as these are, [men! Therefore I'll not disdain.

Clo. This cannot be but a great courtier.

Shep. His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomely.

Clo. He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical; a great man, I'll warrant; I know, by the picking on's teeth.

Aut. The fardel there? what's i'the fardel? Wherefore that box?

Shep. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel, and box, which none must know but the king; and which he shall know within this hour, if I may come to the speech of him.

Aut. Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
Shep. Why, sir?

Aut. The king is not at the palace: he is gone aboard a new ship to purge melancholy, and air himself. For, if thou be'st capable of things serious, thou must know, the king is full of grief.

Shep. So 'tis said, sir; about his son, that should have married a shepherd's daughter.

Aut. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly; the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will break the back of man, the heart of monster.

Clo. Think you so, sir?

Aut. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy, and vengeance bitter; but those, that are germane to him, though removed fifty times, shall all come under the hangman; which though it be great pity, yet, it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling-rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have his daughter come into grace! Some say, he shall be stoned; but that death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne into a sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy.

Clo. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an't like you, sir?

Aut. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then, 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest; then stand, till he be three quarters and a dram dead: then recovered again with aqua-vitæ, or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall he be set against a brick-wall, the sun looking with a southward eye upon him; where he is to behold him, with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smiled at, their offences being so capital? Tell me, (for you seem to be honest plain men,) what have you to the king: being something gently considered, I'll bring you where he is aboard, tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your behalfs; and, if it be in man, besides the king, to effect your suits, here is man shall do't.

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Aut. O, that's the case of the shepherd's son. -Hang him, he'll be made an example.

Clo. Comfort, good comfort: we must to the king, and show our strange sights; he must know, 'tis none of your daughter, nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much. as this old man does, when the business is performed; and remain, as he says, your pawn, till it be brought you.

Aut. I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side; go on the right hand; I will but look upon the hedge, and follow you.

Clo. We are blessed in this man, as I may say, even blessed.

Shep. Let's before, as he bids us: he was pro vided to do us good. [exeunt Shep. and Clown.

Aut. If I had a mind to be honest, I see, fortune would not suffer me; she drops booties in my mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion; gold, and a means to do the prince my master good; which, who knows how that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he think it fit to shore them again, and that the complaint they have to the king concerns him nothing, let him call me, rogue, for being so far officious; for I am proof against that title, and what shame else belongs to't. To him will I present them, there may be matter in it.


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Who hast the memory of Hermione,

Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and I know, in honour,-O, that ever I


Had squar'd me to thy counsel!-then, even now,
Cleo. Sir, you have done enough, and have I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes;
Have taken treasure from her lips,-
Paul. And left them

A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make, Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down

More penitence, than done trespass. At the last, Do, as the heavens have done; forget your evil; With them, forgive yourself.

Leon. Whilst I remember

Her, and her virtues, I cannot forget
My blemishes in them; and so still think of
The wrong I did myself: which was so much,
That heirless it hath made my kingdom; and
Destroy'd the sweet'st companion, that e'er man
Bred his hopes out of.

Paul. True, too true, my lord:

If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or, from the all that are, took something good,
To make a perfect woman; she, you kill'd,
Would be unparallel'd.

Leon. I think so.


She I kill'd? I did so: but thou strik'st me
Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter

Upon thy tongue, as in my thought; Now, good
Say so but seldom.

Cleo. Not at all, good lady:

You might have spoken a thousand things that would

Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd Your kindness better.

Paul. You are one of those, Would have him wed again.

Dion. If you would not so,

You pity not the state, nor the remembrance
Of his most sovereign dame; consider little,
What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue,
May drop upon his kingdom, and devour
Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy,
Than to rejoice, the former queen is well?
What holier, than,-for royalty's repair,
For present comfort, and for future good,-
To bless the bed of majesty again
With a sweet fellow to't?

Paul. There is none worthy, Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes: For has not the divine Apollo said, Is't not the tenor of his oracle, That king Leontes shall not have an heir, Till his lost child be found? which, that it shall, Is all as monstrous to our human reason, As my Antigonus to break his grave, And come again to me; who, on my life, Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel, My lord should to the heavens be contrary, Oppose against their wills. Care not for issue; [to Leon. The crown will find an heir: Great Alexander Left his to the worthiest; so his successor Was like to be the best.

Leon. Good Paulina,

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Leon. His princess, say you, with him? Gent. Ay; the most peerless piece of earth, I That e'er the sun shone bright on. {think,

Paul. O Hermione,

As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better, gone; so must thy grave
Give way to what's seen now. Sir, you yourself
Have said, and writ so, (but your writing now
Is colder than that theme,) She had not been,
Nor was not to be equall'd;—thus your verse
Flow'd with her beauty once ; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
To say you have seen a better.

Gent. Pardon, madam:


The one I have almost forgot; (your pardon,)
The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,
Will have your tongue too. This is such a

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Re-enter Cleomenes, with Florizel, Perdita, &e.
Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
For she did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you: Were I but twenty-one,
Your father's image is so hit in you,

His very air, that I should call you brother,
As I did him; and speak of something, wildly
By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome!
And your fair princess, goddess!-O, alas!
I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth
Might thus have stood, begetting wonder, as
You, gracious couple, do! and then I lost
(All mine own folly,) the society,
Amity too, of your brave father; whom,
Though bearing misery, I desire my life
Once more to look upon.

Flo. By his command

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Leon. O, my brother,

(Good gentleman!) the wrongs I have done theo


Afresh within me; and these thy offices,
So rarely kind, are as interpreters

Of my behind-hand slackness!-Welcome hither,
As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too
Expos'd this paragon to the fearful usage
(At least, ungentle,) of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man not worth her pains; much less
The adventure of her person?
Flo. Good my lord,

She came from Libya.

Leon. Where the warlike Smalus,

That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd, and lov'd? Flo. Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose daughter

His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: thence (A prosperous south-wind friendly,) we havo cross'd,

To execute the charge my father gave me,
For visiting your highness: My best train
I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;
Who for Bohemia bend, to signify
Not only my success in Libya, sir,
But my arrival, and my wife's, in safety
Here, where we are,

Leon. The blessed gods

Purge all infection from our air, whilst you
Do climate here! You have a holy father,
A graceful gentleman; against whose person,
So sacred as it is, I have done sin:
For which the heavens, taking angry note,
Have left me issueless; and your father's bless'd,
(As he from heaven merits it,) with you,
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you?

May 1

Enter a Lord. Lord. Most noble sir,


That, which I shall report, will bear no credit,
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,
Bohemia greets you from himself, by me:
Desires you to attach his son; who has
(His dignity and duty both cast off,)

Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
A shepherd's daughter.


Leon. Where's Bohemia? speak.

Lord. Here in the city; I now came from him: I speak amazedly; and it becomes

My marvel, and my message. To your court
Whiles he was hast'ning, (in the chase, it seems,
Of this fair couple,) meets he on the way
The father of this seeming lady, and


Her brother, having both their country quitted
With this young prince 603
Flo. Camillo has betray'd me;
Whose honour, and whose honesty, till now,
Endur'd all weathers.

Lord. Lay't so to his charge;
He's with the king, your father.
Leon. Who? Camillo?

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[now Lord. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who Has these poor men in question. Never saw I Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth; Forswear themselves as often as they speak

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Aut. I would most gladly know the issue of it. 1 Gent. I make a broken delivery of the business:-But the changes I perceived in the king, and Camillo, were very notes of admiration: they seemed almost, with staring on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture; they looked, as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: a notable passion of wonder appeared in them: but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not say, if the importance were joy, or sorrow: but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be.

Enter another Gentleman. Here comes gentleman, that, happily, knows The news, Rogero? [more:

2 Gent. Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it. Enter a third Gentleman.

Here comes the lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver you more. How goes it now, sir? this news, which is called true, is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong suspicion: has the king found his heir?


3 Gent. Most true; if ever truth were pregnant by circumstance: that, which you hear, you'll swear you see, there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of queen Hermione:—her jewel about the neck of it:-the letters of Antigonus, found with it, which they know to be his character:-the majesty of the creature, in resemblance of the mother;-the affection of nobleness, which nature shows above her breeding,and many other evidences, proclaim her, with all certainty, to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the two kings? 2 Gent. No.

3 Gent. Then have you lost a sight, which was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one joy crown another; so, and in such manner, that, it seemed, sorrow wept to take leave of them; for their joy waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands; with countenance of such distraction, that they were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter; as if that joy were now become a loss, cries, O, thy mother, thy mother! then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son-in-law; then again worries he his daughter, with clipping her; now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by, like a weather-beaten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it.

2 Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried hence the child?

1 Gent. Like an old tale still; which will have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep, and not an ear open: He was torn to pieces with a bear: this avouches the shepherd's son; who has not only his innocence (which seems much,) to justify him, but a handkerchief, and rings, of his, that Paulina knows.

1 Gent. What became of his bark, and his followers?

3 Gent. Wrecked, the same instant of their master's death; and in the view of the shepherd: so that all the instruments, which aided to expose the child, were even then lost, when it was found. But, O, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow, was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declined for the loss of her husband; another elevated, that the oracle was fulfilled: She lifted the princess from the earth; and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be in danger of losing.

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