The Winter's Tale

SCENE II. Sicilia. A court of justice

Enter LEONTES, LORDS, and OFFICERS

  LEONTES. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,    Even pushes 'gainst our heart- the party tried,    The daughter of a king, our wife, and one    Of us too much belov'd. Let us be clear'd    Of being tyrannous, since we so openly    Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,    Even to the guilt or the purgation.    Produce the prisoner.  OFFICER. It is his Highness' pleasure that the Queen    Appear in person here in court.

Enter HERMIONE, as to her trial, PAULINA, and LADIES

    Silence!  LEONTES. Read the indictment.  OFFICER. [Reads] 'Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, Kingof    Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason,in    committing adultery with Polixenes, King of Bohemia; and    conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of oursovereign    lord the King, thy royal husband: the pretence whereof beingby    circumstances partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary tothe    faith and allegiance of true subject, didst counsel and aidthem,    for their better safety, to fly away by night.'  HERMIONE. Since what I am to say must be but that    Which contradicts my accusation, and    The testimony on my part no other    But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me    To say 'Not guilty.' Mine integrity    Being counted falsehood shall, as I express it,    Be so receiv'd. But thus- if pow'rs divine    Behold our human actions, as they do,    I doubt not then but innocence shall make    False accusation blush, and tyranny    Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know-    Who least will seem to do so- my past life    Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,    As I am now unhappy; which is more    Than history can pattern, though devis'd    And play'd to take spectators; for behold me-    A fellow of the royal bed, which owe    A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,    The mother to a hopeful prince- here standing    To prate and talk for life and honour fore    Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it    As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honour,    'Tis a derivative from me to mine,    And only that I stand for. I appeal    To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes    Came to your court, how I was in your grace,    How merited to be so; since he came,    With what encounter so uncurrent I    Have strain'd t' appear thus; if one jot beyond    The bound of honour, or in act or will    That way inclining, hard'ned be the hearts    Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin    Cry fie upon my grave!  LEONTES. I ne'er heard yet    That any of these bolder vices wanted    Less impudence to gainsay what they did    Than to perform it first.  HERMIONE. That's true enough;    Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.  LEONTES. You will not own it.  HERMIONE. More than mistress of    Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not    At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,    With whom I am accus'd, I do confess    I lov'd him as in honour he requir'd;    With such a kind of love as might become    A lady like me; with a love even such,    So and no other, as yourself commanded;    Which not to have done, I think had been in me    Both disobedience and ingratitude    To you and toward your friend; whose love had spoke,    Ever since it could speak, from an infant, freely,    That it was yours. Now for conspiracy:    I know not how it tastes, though it be dish'd    For me to try how; all I know of it    Is that Camillo was an honest man;    And why he left your court, the gods themselves,    Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.  LEONTES. You knew of his departure, as you know    What you have underta'en to do in's absence.  HERMIONE. Sir,    You speak a language that I understand not.    My life stands in the level of your dreams,    Which I'll lay down.  LEONTES. Your actions are my dreams.    You had a bastard by Polixenes,    And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame-    Those of your fact are so- so past all truth;    Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as    Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,    No father owning it- which is indeed    More criminal in thee than it- so thou    Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage    Look for no less than death.  HERMIONE. Sir, spare your threats.    The bug which you would fright me with I seek.    To me can life be no commodity.    The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,    I do give lost, for I do feel it gone,    But know not how it went; my second joy    And first fruits of my body, from his presence    I am barr'd, like one infectious; my third comfort,    Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast-    The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth-    Hal'd out to murder; myself on every post    Proclaim'd a strumpet; with immodest hatred    The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs    To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried    Here to this place, i' th' open air, before    I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,    Tell me what blessings I have here alive    That I should fear to die. Therefore proceed.    But yet hear this- mistake me not: no life,    I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour    Which I would free- if I shall be condemn'd    Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else    But what your jealousies awake, I tell you    'Tis rigour, and not law. Your honours all,    I do refer me to the oracle:    Apollo be my judge!  FIRST LORD. This your request    Is altogether just. Therefore, bring forth,    And in Apollo's name, his oracle.                                         Exeunt certain OFFICERS  HERMIONE. The Emperor of Russia was my father;    O that he were alive, and here beholding    His daughter's trial! that he did but see    The flatness of my misery; yet with eyes    Of pity, not revenge!

Re-enter OFFICERS, with CLEOMENES and DION

  OFFICER. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice    That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have    Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought    This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd    Of great Apollo's priest; and that since then    You have not dar'd to break the holy seal    Nor read the secrets in't.  CLEOMENES, DION. All this we swear.  LEONTES. Break up the seals and read.  OFFICER. [Reads] 'Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blameless;    Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; hisinnocent    babe truly begotten; and the King shall live without an heir,if    that which is lost be not found.'  LORDS. Now blessed be the great Apollo!  HERMIONE. Praised!  LEONTES. Hast thou read truth?  OFFICER. Ay, my lord; even so    As it is here set down.  LEONTES. There is no truth at all i' th' oracle.    The sessions shall proceed. This is mere falsehood.

Enter a SERVANT

  SERVANT. My lord the King, the King!  LEONTES. What is the business?  SERVANT. O sir, I shall be hated to report it:    The Prince your son, with mere conceit and fear    Of the Queen's speed, is gone.  LEONTES. How! Gone?  SERVANT. Is dead.  LEONTES. Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves    Do strike at my injustice. [HERMIONE swoons]    How now, there!  PAULINA. This news is mortal to the Queen. Look down    And see what death is doing.  LEONTES. Take her hence.    Her heart is but o'ercharg'd; she will recover.    I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion.    Beseech you tenderly apply to her    Some remedies for life.                         Exeunt PAULINA and LADIES with HERMIONE    Apollo, pardon    My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle.    I'll reconcile me to Polixenes,    New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo-    Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy.    For, being transported by my jealousies    To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose    Camillo for the minister to poison    My friend Polixenes; which had been done    But that the good mind of Camillo tardied    My swift command, though I with death and with    Reward did threaten and encourage him,    Not doing it and being done. He, most humane    And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest    Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here,    Which you knew great, and to the certain hazard    Of all incertainties himself commended,    No richer than his honour. How he glisters    Thorough my rust! And how his piety    Does my deeds make the blacker!

Re-enter PAULINA

  PAULINA. Woe the while!    O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,    Break too!  FIRST LORD. What fit is this, good lady?  PAULINA. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?    What wheels, racks, fires? what flaying, boiling    In leads or oils? What old or newer torture    Must I receive, whose every word deserves    To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny    Together working with thy jealousies,    Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle    For girls of nine- O, think what they have done,    And then run mad indeed, stark mad; for all    Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.    That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;    That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant,    And damnable ingrateful. Nor was't much    Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour,    To have him kill a king- poor trespasses,    More monstrous standing by; whereof I reckon    The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter    To be or none or little, though a devil    Would have shed water out of fire ere done't;    Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death    Of the young Prince, whose honourable thoughts-    Thoughts high for one so tender- cleft the heart    That could conceive a gross and foolish sire    Blemish'd his gracious dam. This is not, no,    Laid to thy answer; but the last- O lords,    When I have said, cry 'Woe!'– the Queen, the Queen,    The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead; and vengeance    For't not dropp'd down yet.  FIRST LORD. The higher pow'rs forbid!  PAULINA. I say she's dead; I'll swear't. If word nor oath    Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring    Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,    Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you    As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!    Do not repent these things, for they are heavier    Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee    To nothing but despair. A thousand knees    Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,    Upon a barren mountain, and still winter    In storm perpetual, could not move the gods    To look that way thou wert.  LEONTES. Go on, go on.    Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd    All tongues to talk their bitt'rest.  FIRST LORD. Say no more;    Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault    I' th' boldness of your speech.  PAULINA. I am sorry for't.    All faults I make, when I shall come to know them.    I do repent. Alas, I have show'd too much    The rashness of a woman! He is touch'd    To th' noble heart. What's gone and what's past help    Should be past grief. Do not receive affliction    At my petition; I beseech you, rather    Let me be punish'd that have minded you    Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,    Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman.    The love I bore your queen- lo, fool again!    I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;    I'll not remember you of my own lord,    Who is lost too. Take your patience to you,    And I'll say nothing.  LEONTES. Thou didst speak but well    When most the truth; which I receive much better    Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me    To the dead bodies of my queen and son.    One grave shall be for both. Upon them shall    The causes of their death appear, unto    Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit    The chapel where they lie; and tears shed there    Shall be my recreation. So long as nature    Will bear up with this exercise, so long    I daily vow to use it. Come, and lead me    To these sorrows. Exeunt

SCENE III. Bohemia. The sea-coast

Enter ANTIGONUS with the CHILD, and a MARINER

  ANTIGONUS. Thou art perfect then our ship hath touch'd upon    The deserts of Bohemia?  MARINER. Ay, my lord, and fear    We have landed in ill time; the skies look grimly    And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,    The heavens with that we have in hand are angry    And frown upon 's.  ANTIGONUS. Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;    Look to thy bark. I'll not be long before    I call upon thee.  MARINER. Make your best haste; and go not    Too far i' th' land; 'tis like to be loud weather;    Besides, this place is famous for the creatures    Of prey that keep upon't.  ANTIGONUS. Go thou away;    I'll follow instantly.  MARINER. I am glad at heart    To be so rid o' th' business. Exit  ANTIGONUS. Come, poor babe.    I have heard, but not believ'd, the spirits o' th' dead    May walk again. If such thing be, thy mother    Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream    So like a waking. To me comes a creature,    Sometimes her head on one side some another-    I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,    So fill'd and so becoming; in pure white robes,    Like very sanctity, she did approach    My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me;    And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes    Became two spouts; the fury spent, anon    Did this break from her: 'Good Antigonus,    Since fate, against thy better disposition,    Hath made thy person for the thrower-out    Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,    Places remote enough are in Bohemia,    There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe    Is counted lost for ever, Perdita    I prithee call't. For this ungentle business,    Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see    Thy wife Paulina more.' so, with shrieks,    She melted into air. Affrighted much,    I did in time collect myself, and thought    This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys;    Yet, for this once, yea, superstitiously,    I will be squar'd by this. I do believe    Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that    Apollo would, this being indeed the issue    Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,    Either for life or death, upon the earth    Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!                                         [Laying down the child]    There lie, and there thy character; there these                                          [Laying down a bundle]    Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,    And still rest thine. The storm begins. Poor wretch,    That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd    To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,    But my heart bleeds; and most accurs'd am I    To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell!    The day frowns more and more. Thou'rt like to have    A lullaby too rough; I never saw    The heavens so dim by day. [Noise of hunt within] A savage      clamour!    Well may I get aboard! This is the chase;    I am gone for ever. Exit, pursued by a bear

Enter an old SHEPHERD

  SHEPHERD. I would there were no age between ten and three and    twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is    nothing in the between but getting wenches with child,wronging    the ancientry, stealing, fighting- [Horns] Hark you now!Would    any but these boil'd brains of nineteen and two and twentyhunt    this weather? They have scar'd away two of my best sheep,which I    fear the wolf will sooner find than the master. If any whereI    have them, 'tis by the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck,an't    be thy will! What have we here? [Taking up the child] Mercy    on's, a barne! A very pretty barne. A boy or a child, Iwonder? A    pretty one; a very pretty one- sure, some scape. Though I amnot    bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape.This    has been some stair-work, some trunk-work, somebehind-door-work;    they were warmer that got this than the poor thing is here.I'll    take it up for pity; yet I'll tarry till my son come; hehalloo'd    but even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!

Enter CLOWN

  CLOWN. Hilloa, loa!  SHEPHERD. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk onwhen    thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What ail'st thou, man?  CLOWN. I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land! But Iam    not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky; betwixt the    firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.  SHEPHERD. Why, boy, how is it?  CLOWN. I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages, howit    takes up the shore! But that's not to the point. O, the most    piteous cry of the poor souls! Sometimes to see 'em, and notto    see 'em; now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, andanon    swallowed with yeast and froth, as you'd thrust a cork into a    hogshead. And then for the land service- to see how the beartore    out his shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help, and saidhis    name was Antigonus, a nobleman! But to make an end of theship-    to see how the sea flap-dragon'd it; but first, how the poor    souls roared, and the sea mock'd them; and how the poorgentleman    roared, and the bear mock'd him, both roaring louder than thesea    or weather.  SHEPHERD. Name of mercy, when was this, boy?  CLOWN. Now, now; I have not wink'd since I saw these sights;the    men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear half din'd onthe    gentleman; he's at it now.  SHEPHERD. Would I had been by to have help'd the old man!  CLOWN. I would you had been by the ship-side, to have help'dher;    there your charity would have lack'd footing.  SHEPHERD. Heavy matters, heavy matters! But look thee here,boy.    Now bless thyself; thou met'st with things dying, I withthings    new-born. Here's a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing-clothfor    a squire's child! Look thee here; take up, take up, boy;open't.    So, let's see- it was told me I should be rich by thefairies.    This is some changeling. Open't. What's within, boy?  CLOWN. You're a made old man; if the sins of your youth are    forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!  SHEPHERD. This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so. Upwith't,    keep it close. Home, home, the next way! We are lucky, boy;and    to be so still requires nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go.    Come, good boy, the next way home.  CLOWN. Go you the next way with your findings. I'll go see ifthe    bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten.They    are never curst but when they are hungry. If there be any ofhim    left, I'll bury it.  SHEPHERD. That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by thatwhich    is left of him what he is, fetch me to th' sight of him.  CLOWN. Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' th'ground.  SHEPHERD. 'Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good deeds on't.Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE I

Enter TIME, the CHORUS

  TIME. I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror    Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,    Now take upon me, in the name of Time,    To use my wings. Impute it not a crime    To me or my swift passage that I slide    O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried    Of that wide gap, since it is in my pow'r    To o'erthrow law, and in one self-born hour    To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass    The same I am, ere ancient'st order was    Or what is now receiv'd. I witness to    The times that brought them in; so shall I do    To th' freshest things now reigning, and make stale    The glistering of this present, as my tale    Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,    I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing    As you had slept between. Leontes leaving-    Th' effects of his fond jealousies so grieving    That he shuts up himself- imagine me,    Gentle spectators, that I now may be    In fair Bohemia; and remember well    I mention'd a son o' th' King's, which Florizel    I now name to you; and with speed so pace    To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace    Equal with wond'ring. What of her ensues    I list not prophesy; 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 ere now;    If never, yet that Time himself doth say    He wishes earnestly you never may. Exit

SCENE II. Bohemia. The palace of POLIXENES

Enter POLIXENES and CAMILLO

POLIXENES. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: 'tis a sickness denying thee anything; a death to grant this. CAMILLO. It is fifteen years since I saw my country; though I have for the most part been aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent King, my master, hath sent for me; to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween to think so, which is another spur to my departure. POLIXENES. As thou lov'st me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest 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 me businesses which none without thee can sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute them thyself, or take away with thee the very services thou hast done; which if I have not enough considered- as too much I cannot- to be more thankful to thee shall be my study; and my profit therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal country Sicilia, prithee, speak no more; whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance of that penitent, as thou call'st him, and reconciled king, my brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and children are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when saw'st thou the Prince Florizel, my son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they are in losing them when they have approved their virtues. CAMILLO. Sir, it is three days since I saw the Prince. What his happier affairs may be are to me unknown; but I have missingly noted he is of late much retired from court, and is less frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he hath appeared. POLIXENES. I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some care, so far that I have eyes under my service which look upon his removedness; from whom I have this intelligence, that he is seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd- a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate. CAMILLO. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare note. The report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage. POLIXENES. That's likewise 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 some question with the shepherd; from whose simplicity I think it not uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. Prithee be my present partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. CAMILLO. I willingly obey your command. POLIXENES. My best Camillo! We must disguise ourselves. Exeunt

SCENE III. Bohemia. A road near the SHEPHERD'S cottage

Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing

      When daffodils begin to peer,        With heigh! the doxy over the dale,      Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year,        For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.      The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,        With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!      Doth set my pugging tooth on edge,        For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.      The lark, that tirra-lirra chants,        With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,      Are summer songs for me and my aunts,        While we lie tumbling in the hay.    I have serv'd Prince Florizel, and in my time worethree-pile;    but now I am out of service.      But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?        The pale moon shines 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 traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesserlinen.    My father nam'd me Autolycus; who, being, I as am, litter'dunder    Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.With    die and drab I purchas'd this caparison; and my revenue isthe    silly-cheat. Gallows and knock are too powerful on thehighway;    beating and hanging are terrors to me; for the life to come,I    sleep out the thought of it. A prize! a prize!

Enter CLOWN

CLOWN. Let me see: every 'leven wether tods; every tod yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn, what comes the wool to? AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] If the springe hold, the cock's mine. CLOWN. I cannot do 't without counters. Let me see: what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of sugar, five pound of currants, rice- what will this sister of mine do with rice? But my father hath made her mistress of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me four and twenty nosegays for the shearers- three-man song-men all, and very good ones; but they are most of them means and bases; but one Puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have saffron to colour the warden pies; mace; dates- none, that's out of my note; nutmegs, seven; race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' th' sun. AUTOLYCUS. [Grovelling on the ground] O that ever I was born! CLOWN. I' th' name of me! AUTOLYCUS. O, help me, help me! Pluck but off these rags; and then, death, death! CLOWN. Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off. AUTOLYCUS. O sir, the loathsomeness of them offend me more than the stripes I have received, which are mighty ones and millions. CLOWN. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter. AUTOLYCUS. I am robb'd, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me. CLOWN. What, by a horseman or a footman? AUTOLYCUS. A footman, sweet sir, a footman. CLOWN. Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments he has left with thee; if this be a horseman's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee. Come, lend me thy hand. [Helping him up] AUTOLYCUS. O, good sir, tenderly, O! CLOWN. Alas, poor soul! AUTOLYCUS. O, good sir, softly, good sir; I fear, sir, my shoulder blade is out. CLOWN. How now! Canst stand? AUTOLYCUS. Softly, dear sir [Picks his pocket]; good sir, softly. You ha' done me a charitable office. CLOWN. Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee. AUTOLYCUS. No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir. I have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I shall there have money or anything I want. Offer me no money, I pray you; that kills my heart. CLOWN. What manner of fellow was he that robb'd you? AUTOLYCUS. A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about with troll-my-dames; I knew him once a servant of the Prince. I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipt out of the court. CLOWN. His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipt out of the court. They cherish it to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but abide. AUTOLYCUS. Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man well; he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server, a bailiff; then he compass'd a motion of the Prodigal Son, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lies; and, having flown over many knavish professions, he settled only in rogue. Some call him Autolycus. CLOWN. Out upon him! prig, for my life, prig! He haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings. AUTOLYCUS. Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the rogue that put me into this apparel. CLOWN. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had but look'd big and spit at him, he'd have run. AUTOLYCUS. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter; I am false of heart that way, and that he knew, I warrant him. CLOWN. How do you now? AUTOLYCUS. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand and walk. I will even take my leave of you and pace softly towards my kinsman's. CLOWN. Shall I bring thee on the way? AUTOLYCUS. No, good-fac'd sir; no, sweet sir. CLOWN. Then fare thee well. I must go buy spices for our sheep-shearing. AUTOLYCUS. Prosper you, sweet sir! Exit CLOWN Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too. If I make not this cheat bring out another, and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unroll'd, and my name put in the book of virtue! [Sings] Jog on, jog on, the footpath way, And merrily hent the stile-a; A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a. Exit