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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.

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 stretch-mouth'd rascal would, as it were, mean mischief, and break a foul jape 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.

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Clo. Believe me, thou talk'st of an admirableconceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares?

Serv. He hath ribands of all the colours i' th' rainbow; points, more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come to him by th' gross; inkles, caddises, 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.

Clo. Pr'ythee, bring him in; and let him approach singing.

Per. Forewarn him, that he use no scurrilous word in 's tunes.

Clo. You have of these pedlers that have more in them than you'd think, sister.

Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think.

Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing.

Lawn, as white as driven snow;
Cyprus, black as ere 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.

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 ribands 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.

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 bear 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 whisp'ring: charm your tongues, and not a word more.

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?

Aut. And, indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary.

Clo. Fear not thou, man; thou shalt lose nothing here.

Aut. I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.

Clo. What hast here? ballads?

Mop. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print, o' life; for then we are sure they are true. Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty moneybags at a burthen; and how she long'd to eat adders' heads, and toads carbonado'd.

Mop. Is it true, think you?

Aut. Very true; and but a month old.

Dor. Bless me from marrying a usurer!

Aut. 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? Mop. 'Pray you now, buy it.

Clo. Come on, lay it by: and let's first see more ballads; we'll buy the other things anon.

Aut. Here's another ballad, of a fish, that appeared upon the coast, on Wedn'sday the fourscore of April, forty thousand fadom above water, and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of maids: it was thought she was a woman, and was turn'd into a cold fish, for she would not exchange flesh with one that lov'd her. The ballad is very pitiful, and as true. Dor. Is it true, too, think you?

Aut. Five justices' hands at it; and witnesses, more than my pack will hold.

Clo. Lay it by too. Another.

Aut. This is a merry ballad; but a very pretty

one.

Mop. Let's have some merry ones.

Aut. 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.

Mop. We can both sing it; if thou'lt bear a part, thou shalt hear; 'tis in three parts.

Dor. We had the tune on 't a month ago.

Aut. I can bear my part; you must know 'tis my occupation. Have at it with you.

Song.

A. Get you hence, for 1 must go;
Where it fits not you to know.
Whither?

D.

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M. Or thou go'st to th' grange or mill:
If to either, thou dost ill.

Neither.

D.

A.

D.

What, neither?

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D. Thou hast sworn my love to be;

M. Thou hast sworn it more to me:
Then, whither goest? say, whither ?

Clo. We'll have this song out anon by ourselves. My father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we'll not trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack

after me.

Wenches, I'll buy for you both.

Pedler,

[Aside.

let's have the first choice. - Follow me, girls.

Aut. And you shall pay well for 'em.

Will you buy any tape,

Or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?
Any silk, any thread,

Any toys for your head,

Of the new'st, and fin'st, fin'st wear-a?

Come to the pedler;

Money's a medlar,

That doth utter all men's ware-a.

[Exeunt Clo., AUT., DOR., and Mop.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neatherds, three swineherds, that have made themselves all men of hair: they call themselves saltiers; and they have a dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not in 't; but they themselves are o' th' mind, (if it be not too rough for some, that know little but bowling,) it will please plentifully.

Shep. Away! we'll none on 't; here has been too much homely foolery already. I know, sir, we weary you.

Pol. You weary those that refresh us. Pray, let's see these four threes of herdsmen.

Serv. One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath danc'd before the King: and not the worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and a half by th' squire.

Shep. Leave your prating; since these good men are pleas'd, let them come in; but quickly now. Serv. Why, they stay at door, sir.

[Exit.

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