POLIXENES
This is a brave fellow.
CLOWN
Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares?
SERVANT
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.
CLOWN
Pr’ythee bring him in; and let him approach singing.
PERDITA
Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in his tunes.
[Exit SERVANT.]
CLOWN
You have of these pedlars that have more in them than you’d think, sister.
PERDITA
Ay, good brother, or go about to think.
[Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing.]
AUTOLYCUS
Lawn as white as driven snow;
Cypress black as e’er was crow;
Gloves as sweet as damask-roses;
Masks for faces and for noses;
Bugle-bracelet, necklace amber,
Perfume for a lady’s chamber;
Golden quoifs and stomachers,
For my lads to give their dears;
Pins and poking-sticks of steel,
What maids lack from head to heel.
Come, buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;
Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry:
Come, buy.
CLOWN
If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves.
MOPSA
I was promis’d them against the feast; but they come not too late now.
DORCAS
He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars.
MOPSA
He hath paid you all he promised you: may be he has paid you more,—which will shame you to give him again.
CLOWN
Is there no manners left among maids? will they wear their plackets where they should bear their faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-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.
MOPSA
I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves.
CLOWN
Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the way, and lost all my money?
AUTOLYCUS
And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary.
CLOWN
Fear not thou, man; thou shalt lose nothing here.
AUTOLYCUS
I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.
CLOWN
What hast here? ballads?
MOPSA
Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print a-life; for then we are sure they are true.
AUTOLYCUS
Here’s one to a very doleful tune. How a usurer’s wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burden, and how she long’d to eat adders’ heads and toads carbonadoed.
MOPSA
Is it true, think you?
AUTOLYCUS
Very true; and but a month old.
DORCAS
Bless me from marrying a usurer!
AUTOLYCUS
Here’s the midwife’s name to’t, one Mistress Taleporter, and five or six honest wives that were present. Why should I carry lies abroad?
MOPSA
Pray you now, buy it.
CLOWN
Come on, lay it by; and let’s first see more ballads; we’ll buy the other things anon.
AUTOLYCUS
Here’s another ballad, of a fish that appeared upon the coast on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids: it was thought she was a woman, and was turned into a cold fish for she would not exchange flesh with one that loved her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as true.
DORCAS
Is it true too, think you?
AUTOLYCUS
Five justices’ hands at it; and witnesses more than my pack will hold.
CLOWN
Lay it by too: another.
AUTOLYCUS
This is a merry ballad; but a very pretty one.
MOPSA
Let’s have some merry ones.
AUTOLYCUS
Why, this is a passing merry one, and goes to the tune of ‘Two maids wooing a man.’ There’s scarce a maid westward but she sings it: ‘tis in request, I can tell you.
MOPSA
We can both sing it: if thou’lt bear a part, thou shalt hear; ‘tis in three parts.
DORCAS
We had the tune on’t a month ago.
AUTOLYCUS
I can bear my part; you must know ‘tis my occupation: have at it with you.
[SONG.]
AUTOLYCUS
Get you hence, for I must go
Where it fits not you to know.
DORCAS
Whither?
MOPSA
O, whither?
DORCAS
Whither?
MOPSA
It becomes thy oath full well
Thou to me thy secrets tell.
DORCAS
Me too! Let me go thither.
MOPSA
Or thou goest to the grange or mill:
DORCAS
If to either, thou dost ill.