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that's out of my note: nutmegs, seven ; a race, or two, of ginger ;-but that I may beg ;--four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o'the sun. Aut. O, that ever I was born!
[Groveling on the ground. Clown. I'the name of me,
Aut. O, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags: and then, death, death!
Clown. Alack, poor soul; thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off.
Aut. O, sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more than the stripes I have receiv'd; which are mighty ones, and millions.
Clown. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter.
Aut. I am robb’d, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me.
Clown. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man?
Clown. Indeed, he should be a foot-man, by the garments he hath left with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee: come, lend me thy band.
[Helping him up. Aut. O! good sir, tenderly, oh! Clown. Alas, poor soul.
Aut. O, good sir, softly, good sir: I fear, sir, my shoulder blade is out.
Clown. How now? canst stand?
Aut. Softly, dear sir; [picks his pocket.] good sir, softly: you ha' done me a charitable office.
Clown. Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee.
dut. No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir: I have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I shall there have money, or any thing I want: Offer me no money, I pray you; that kills
heart. Clown. 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 53: I knew him once a servant 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.
Clown. His vices, you would say; there is 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 say, sir. I know this man well: he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a bailiff; then he compass'd a motion of the prodigal son 54, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lies; and, having flown over many knavish professions, he settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus.
Clown. 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.
Clown. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohe
mia; if you had but look'd big, and spit at him, he'd
Aut. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter : I am false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant him. Clown. How do
now? Aut. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand, and walk: I will even take my leave of you, and
pace softly towards my kinsman's. Clown. Shall I bring thee on the way? Aut. No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir.
Clown. Then fare thee well; I must go buy spices for our sheep-shearing.
Aut. Prosper you, sweet sir!-[Exit Clown.] Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too: If I make not this cheat bring out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unroll'd, and my name put in the book of virtue 55!
Jog on, jog on, the foot.path way,
And merrily hent the stile-a:
Your sad tires in a mile-a. [Exit.
A Shepherd's Cottage. Enter FLORIZEL and Perdita. Flo. These
unusual weeds to each part of you Do give a life: no shepherdess; but Flora,
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing 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; O, pardon, that I name them: your high self, The gracious mark o'the land, you have obscur'd With a swain's wearing; and me, poor lowly
I bless the time,
way, as you did: 0, the fates!
Apprehend Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves, Humbling their deities to love, have taken The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
O but, dear sir,
purpose, Or I my life.
Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,
O lady fortune,