Per. O lady fortune, Stand you aufpicious! SCENE V. Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants;` with Polixenes and Camillo difguis'd. Flo. See, your guests approach; Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, Shep. Fie, daughter! when my old wife liv'd, upon Both dame and fervant: welcom'd all; ferv'd all : On his fhoulder, and his; her face o' fire With labour; and the things she took to quench it Per. Sirs, you're welcome. It is my father's will, I fhould take on me [to Pol. and Cam. The hostessship o'th' day: you're welcome, firs. Give me thofe flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend firs, Seeming and favour all the winter long: Grace and remembrance be unto you both, Pol. Shepherdess, A fair one are you, well you fit our ages With flowers of winter. Per. Sir, the year growing ancient, Nor yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the faireft flowers o'th' feafon Our ruftick garden's barren; and I care not Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect them? Per. For I have heard it faid, There is an art, which, in their pideness, shares Pol. Say, there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: fo, over that art, Which, you fay, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You fee, fweet maid, we marry And make conceive a bark of bafer 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 gillyflowers, And do not call them baftards. Per. I'll not put The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them: No more than were I painted, I would wish This youth fhould fay, 'twere well; and only therefore Hot lavender, mints, favoury, marjoram, VOL. II. Y'are very welcome. Cam. Cam. I fhould leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing. Per. Out, alas ! You'd be fo lean, that blafts of january Now, faireft friend, I would I had fome flowers o'th' fpring, that might For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'ft fall That come before the fwallow dares, and take Flo. What, like a corfe? Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; Not like a corfe: or if, not to be buried, But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers: In whitfund' paftorals: fure, this robe of mine Does change my disposition. Flo. What you do, Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever; when you fing, I'd have you buy and fell fo; fo give alms; To fing them too: when you do dance, I wish you Nothing Nothing but that; move ftill, ftill fo, And own no other function. Each your doing, So fingular in each particular, Crowns what you're doing in the present deeds, Per. O Doricles, Your praises are too large; but that your youth And the true blood which peeps forth fairly through it, You woo'd me the falfe way. Flo. I think, you have As little skill in fear, as I have purpose To put you to't. But, come; our dance I pray : That never mean to part. Per. I'll fwear for 'em. Pol. This is the prettieft low-born lass that ever Cam. He tells her fomething That makes her blood look out: good footh, fhe is The queen of curds and cream. Clo. Come on, ftrike up. Dor. Mopfa must be your mistress; marry, garlick To mend her kiffing with. Mop. Now, in good time. Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners: come, ftrike up. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Pol. I pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this Who dances with your daughter? Shep. They call him Doricles; and he boasts himself To have a worthy breeding: but I have it VOL. II. Bbbb Upon Upon his own report, and I believe it; He looks like footh: he fays, he loves my daughter, Upon the water, as he'll ftand, and read, As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain, Pol. She dances featly. Shep. So fhe does any thing; though I report it Do light upon her, she shall bring him that SCENE VI. Enter a Servant. Ser. O, master, if you did but hear the pedler at the door, you would never dance again after a tabour and pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you: he fings several tunes fafter than you'll tell money; he utters them as he had eaten ballads, and all men's ears grow to his tunes. Clo. He could never come better; he fhall come in: I love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter merrily fet down; or a very pleasant thing indeed, and fung lamentably. Ser. He hath fongs for man or woman of all fizes; no milliner can fo fit his customers with gloves: he has the prettieft lovefongs for maids, fo without bawdry, (which is ftrange) with such delicate burdens of dil-do's and fa-ding's: jump her and thump her and where fome ftretch-mouth'd 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, flights him, with Whoop! do me no harm, good man. Pol. This is a brave fellow. Clo. Believe me, thou talkeft of an admirable-conceited fellow : has he any unbraided wares? Ser. He hath ribands of all the colours i'th' rainbow; points, more |