refie. Let my Sheep go: Come, good Boy, the next ray home.

Clo. Go you the next way with your Findings, I'll go ee if the Bear be gone from the Gentleman, and how much e hath eaten: They are never Curft, but when they are aungry: If there be any of him left, I'll bury it.

Shep. That's a good Deed; if thou may'ft difce n by hat which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to th' fight of him.

Clo. Marry will I, and you shall help to put him i’th' Ground.

Shep. 'Tis a lucky Day, Boy, and we'll do good Deeds on't.

[Exeunt.

A C T IV. SCENE I.

Enter Time, The Chorus.

Time. That please fome, try all, both Joy and Terror
Of good and bad, that make and unfold Error:

Now take upon me, in the Name of Time,
To ufe my Wings. Impute it not a Crime
To me, or my swift Paffage, that I flide
O'er fixteen Years, and leave the growth untry'd
Of that wide gap; fince it is in my power
To o'erthrow Law, and in one felf-born hour
To plant, and o'er-whelm Cuftom. Let me pafs
The fame I am, e'er ancient'ft Order was,

Or what is now receiv'd. I witness to
The times that brought them in, fo fhall I do
To the fresheft things now reigning, and make stale
Th' gliftering of this prefent, as my Tale
Now feems to it: Your Patience this allowing,
I turn my Glafs, and give my Scene fuch growing
As you had flept between. Leontes leaving
Th' Effects of his fond Jealoufies, fo grieving
That he shuts up himself; imagine me,

Gentle Spectators, that I now may be

VOL. II.

Hh

930

In fair Bohemia, and remember well,

I mention here a Son o'th' King's, which Florizel
I now name to you, and with speed so pace
To fpeak of Perdita, now grown in grace
Equal with wondring. What of her enfues,
I lift not Prophefie: But let Time's News

Be known when 'tis brought forth. A Shepherd's Daughter
And what to her adheres, which follows after,

Is th'Argument of Time; of this allow,

If ever you have spent Time worse, e'er now :
If never, yet that Time himself doth fay,
He wishes earneftly, you never may.

SCENE II.

Enter Polixenes and Camillo.

[Ex

Pol. I praythee, good Camillo, be no more importunate; 'tis a Sicknefs denying thee any thing, a Death to gra this.

Cam. It is fifteen Years fince I faw my Country; though I have, for the most part, being aired Abroad, I defire to lay my Bones there. Befides, the penitent King, my Ma fter, hath fent for me, to whose feeling Sorrows I might be fome allay, or I o'erween to think fo, which is another Spu to my departure.

Pol. As thou lov'ft me, Camillo, wipe not out the ref of thy Services, by leaving me now; the need I have of thee, thine own Goodness hath made: Better not to have had thee, than thus to want thee. Thou having made m Bufinefs, which none, without thee, can fufficiently m nage, muft either ftay to execute them thy felf, or tak: away with thee the very Services thou haft done; which if I have not enough confidered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to thee fhall be my ftudy, and my Of that fatal profit therein, the heaping Friendships. Country Sicilia, prethee fpeak no more, whofe very n ming punishes me with the remembrance of that Penitent, as thou call'ft him, and reconciled King my Bro ther, whose lofs of his most precious Queen and Chil

dren,

Iren, are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, vhen faw'ft thou the Prince Florizel mý Son? Kings re no lefs unhappy, their Iffue not being gracious, than hey are in lofing them, when they have approved their

Virtues.

Cam. Sir, it is three days fince I faw the Prince; what is happier Affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have miffingly) noted, he is of late much retired from Court, and is lefs frequent to his Princely Exercises than formerly ne hath appear'd.

Pol. I have confider'd fo much, Camillo, and with fome care fo far, that I have Eyes under ny Service, which ook upon his removednefs; from whom I have this Intelligence, that he is feldom from the House of a moft homely Shepherd; a Man, they fay, that from very nothing, and beyond the Imagination of his Neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable Estate.

Cam. I have heard, Sir, of fuch a Man, who hath a Daughter of moft rare Note; the Report of her is extended more, than can be thought to begin from fuch a Cot

tage.

Pol. That's likewife part of my Intelligence; but, I fear, the Angle that plucks our Son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place, where we will (not appearing what we are) have fome queftion with the Shep-. herd; from whofe Simplicity, I think it not uneafie to get the cause of my Son's refort thither. Prethee be my prefent Partner in this bufinefs, and lay afide the thoughts of Sicilia.

Cam. I willingly obey your Command.

Pol. My best Camillo, we muft Disguise our felves.

SCENE III.

Enter Autolicus finging.

When Daffadils begin to Peer,

With heigh the Doxy over the daie,

Why then comes in the fweet o'th' Year:

[Exeunt.

For the red Blood reigns in the Winter's pale.

The white Sheet bleaching on the Hedge,
With hey the fweet Birds, O how they fing:
Doth fet my pugging Tooth an edge,

For a quart of Ale is a dish for a King.

The Lark with Tirra lyra chaunts,

With hey, with hey the Thrush and the Lay:
Are Summer Songs for me and my Aunts,
While we lye tumbling in the Hay.

I have ferved Prince Florizel, and in my time wore the
Pile, but now I am out of Service.

But shall I go mourn for that, my Dear,
The pale Moon fhines by Night:

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

If Tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the Sow-skin Budget,
Then my Account I well may give,
And in the Stocks avouch it.

My Traffick is Sheets; when the Kite builds, look to l fer Linen. My Father nam'd me Autolicus, who being as I am, litter'd under Mercury, was likewife a Snappe

up of unconfider'd Trifles: With Die and Drab, I pu chas'd Caparifon, and my Revenue is the filly Che Gallows, and Knock, are too powerful on the High way, Beating and Hanging are Terrors to me: For th Life to come, I fleep out the thought of it. A Prize! Prize !

Enter Clown.

Clo. Let me fee, every eleven Weather Tods, every To yields Pound and odd Shillings: Fifteen hundred hors what comes the Wooll to?

Aut. If the fprindge hold, the Cock's mine. [Afiat Clo. I cannot do it without Compters. Let me fee, wh am I to buy for our Sheep-fhearing-Feaft? Three Pound of Sugar, five Pound of Currants, Rice-What will this Sifter of mine do with Rice? But my Father hath made

he

er Mistress of the Feaft, and he lays it on. She hath ade me four and twenty Nose-gays for the Shearers; threelan-Song-men, all, and very good ones, but they are most f them, Mean and Bafes; but one Puritan among them, nd he fings Pfalms to Horn-Pipes. I must have Saffron to olour the Wardens Pies, Mace-Dates--none--that's ut of my Note: Nutmegs, feven; a Race or two of Ginger, ut that I may beg: Four Pound of Pruns, and as many of Rafins o'th' Sun.

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, Sir, the loathfomness 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, Sir, and beaten; my Mony and Apparel ta'en from me, and these deteftable Things put upon

me.

Clo. What, by a Horse-man, or a Foot-man?

Aut. A Foot-man, fweet Sir, a Foot-man.

Clo. Indeed, he should be a Foot-man, by the Garments he has 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.

Ant. Oh! good Sir, tenderly, oh!

Clo. Alas, poor Soul.

Aut. Oh good Sir, foftly, good Sir: I fear, Sir, my Shoulder-blade is out.

Clo. How now? canft stand?

Aut. Softly, dear Sir; good Sir, 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 befeech you, Sir; I have a Kinfman not paft three quarters of a Mile hence, unto

Hh 3

whom