Of celebration of that nuptial which Per. Stand you auspicious! Flo. 50 O lady Fortune, See, your guests approach: Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, Enter Shepherd, Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and others, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO disguised. Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived, upon This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, here, At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle; 60 With labour and the thing she took to quench it, come on, And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, Per. [To Pol.] Sir, welcome: 70 It is my father's will I should take on me welcome, sir. Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. sirs, Reverend, For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep *Appearance. Shepherdess, Pol. 80 Per. Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season ire our carnations and streak'd gillyvors, Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. For I have heard it said There is an art which in their piedness shares Pol. But nature makes that mean: so, over that art 90 That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race: this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature. Per. So it is. Pol. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors, And do not call them bastards. 100 Per. Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you; And only live by gazing. Per. Out, alas! You'ld be so lean, that blasts of January ΙΙΟ Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend. I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might Become your time of day; and yours, and yours, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall That come before the swallow dares, and take 121 Flo. What, like a corse? Per. No, like a bank for love to lie and play on; Not like a corse; or if, not to be buried, But quick* and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers: 131 *Living. Methinks I play as I have seen them do What you do Flo. Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'ld have you do it ever: when you sing, I'ld have you buy and sell so, so give alms, To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you And own no other function: each your doing, 141 Crowns what you are doing in the present deed, That all your acts are queens. Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large: but that your youth, And the true blood which peepeth fairly through't, Flo. Per. I'll swear for 'em. 150 Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems But smacks of something greater than herself, Cam. He tells her something That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is The queen of curds and cream. Clo. 161 Come on, strike up! Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic, To mend her kissing with! Мор. Now, in good time! Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. Come, strike up! [Music. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this Which dances with your daughter? Shep. They call him Doricles; and boasts himself To have a worthy feeding: but I have it Upon his own report and I believe it; 170 He looks like sooth.* He says he loves my daughter: I think so too; for never gazed the moon *Truth As 'twere my daughter's eyes; and, to be plain, Pol. She dances featly.* *Neatly. Shep. So she does any thing; though I report it, That should be silent: if young Doricles Do light upon her, she shall bring him that Which he not dreams of. Enter Servant. 180 Serv. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you: he sings several tunes faster than you'll tell money; he utters them as he had eaten ballads and all men's ears grew to his tunes. Clo. He could never come better; he shall come in. I love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably. 190 Serv. He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes; no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves: he has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate burthens of dildos and fadings,* ‘jump her and thump her;' and where some stretchmouthed rascal would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer Whoop, do me no harm, good man;' puts him off, slights him, with 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.' Pol. This is a brave fellow. *Chorus and end. 201 Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares? Serv. He hath ribbons of all the colours i' the rainbow; points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come to him by the gross: inkles,* caddisses,† cambrics, lawns: why, he sings 'em over as they were gods or goddesses; you would think a smock were a she-angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and the work about the square‡ on't. *Narrow tape. Clo. Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing. +Worsted galloon. Stomacher. Per. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's tunes. [Exit Servant. |