Bright Phoebus in his strength (a malady 361 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. flowers; Come, take your Methinks, I play as I have seen them do In Whitsun pastorals: sure, this robe of mine 371 I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so; so, give alms; And own no other function. Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens. 380 Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large: but that your youth And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through it, Do Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd; With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, You woo'd me the false way. Flo. I think, you have As little skill to fear, as I have purpose To put you to't. But, come; our dance, I pray : Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair, That never mean to part. Per. I'll swear for 'em, 390 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, Too noble for this place. Cam. He tells her something, That makes her blood look out; Good sooth, she is The queen of curds and cream. Clo. Come on, strike up. 400 Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlick To mend her kissing with. Mop. Now in good time! Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners; Come, strike up. Here a Dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this, Who dances with your daughter? Shep. They call him Doricles; and he boasts him self To have a worthy feeding: but I have it Upon Upon his own report, and I believe it: 410 He looks like socih: He says, he loves my daughter, I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand, and read, Who loves another best. Pol. She dances featly. 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 Enter a Servant. 420 Ser. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe; no, the bag-pipe 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. 431 Ser. 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 burdens of dil-do's and fa-dings: jump her and thump her: and where some stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean 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. 441 Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable-conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares ? Ser. 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, cambricks, lawns: why, he sings them over, 'as they were gods and goddesses: you would think a smock were a she-angel, he so chants to the sleeve-band, and the work about the square-on't. 452 Clo. Pr'ythee, bring him in ; and let him approach, singing. Per. Forewarn him, that he use no scurrilous words in his tunes. Clo. You have of these pedlars that have more in 'em than you'd think, sister. Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think, Enter AUTOLICUS singing. Lawn, as white as driven snow; 460 Golden Golden quoifs, and stomachers, For my lads to give their dears: Come buy of me, come: come buy, come buy, Come buy, &c. 471 Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou should'st take no money of me; but being enthrall'd as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain ribbons 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. 480 Mop. He hath paid you all he promis'd you: 'may be, he has paid 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 wear their faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kill-hole, to whistle off these secrets; but you must be tittle-tattling before all our guests 'Tis well they are whispering. Clamour your tongues, and not a word more. 490 Mop. I have done. Come, you promis'd me a tawdry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves. Clo. Have I not told thee how I was cozen'd by the way, and lost all my money? |