Clo. What, by a horse-man, or a foot-man? Aut. A footman (sweet sir) a footman
Clo. Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments he has left with thee: If this bee a horsemans Coate, it hath seene very hot seruice. Lend me thy hand, Ile helpe thee. Come, lend me thy hand
Aut. Oh good sir, tenderly, oh
Clo. Alas poore soule
Aut. Oh good sir, softly, good sir: I feare (sir) my shoulder-blade is out
Clo. How now? Canst stand? Aut. Softly, deere sir: good sir, softly: you ha done me a charitable office
Clo. Doest lacke any mony? I haue a little mony for thee
Aut. No, good sweet sir: no, I beseech you sir: I haue a Kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, vnto whome I was going: I shall there haue money, or anie thing I want: Offer me no money I pray you, that killes my heart
Clow. What manner of Fellow was hee that robb'd you? Aut. A fellow (sir) that I haue knowne to goe about with Troll-my-dames: I knew him once a seruant of the Prince: I cannot tell good sir, for which of his Vertues it was, but hee was certainely Whipt out of the Court
Clo. His vices you would say: there's no vertue whipt out of the Court: they cherish it to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but abide
Aut. Vices I would say (Sir.) I know this man well, he hath bene since an Ape-bearer, then a Processe-seruer (a Bayliffe) then hee compast a Motion of the Prodigall sonne, and married a Tinkers wife, within a Mile where my Land and Liuing lyes; and (hauing flowne ouer many knauish professions) he setled onely in Rogue: some call him Autolicus
Clo. Out vpon him: Prig, for my life Prig: he haunts Wakes, Faires, and Beare-baitings
Aut. Very true sir: he sir hee: that's the Rogue that put me into this apparrell
Clo. Not a more cowardly Rogue in all Bohemia; If you had but look'd bigge, and spit at him, hee'ld haue runne
Aut. I must confesse to you (sir) I am no fighter: I am false of heart that way, & that he knew I warrant him
Clo. How do you now? Aut. Sweet sir, much better then I was: I can stand, and walke: I will euen take my leaue of you, & pace softly towards my Kinsmans
Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way? Aut. No, good fac'd sir, no sweet sir
Clo. Then fartheewell, I must go buy Spices for our sheepe-shearing. Enter.
Aut. Prosper you sweet sir. Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your Spice: Ile be with you at your sheepe-shearing too: If I make not this Cheat bring out another, and the sheerers proue sheepe, let me be vnrold, and my name put in the booke of Vertue. Song. Iog-on, Iog-on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the Stile-a: A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tyres in a Mile-a. Enter.
Enter Florizell, Perdita, Shepherd, Clowne, Polixenes, Camillo, Mopsa, Dorcas, Seruants, Autolicus.
Flo. These your vnvsuall weeds, to each part of you Do's giue a life: no Shepherdesse, but Flora Peering in Aprils front. This your sheepe-shearing, Is as a meeting of the petty Gods, And you the Queene on't
Perd. Sir: my gracious Lord, To chide at your extreames, it not becomes me: (Oh pardon, that I name them:) your high selfe The gracious marke o'th' Land, you haue obscur'd With a Swaines wearing: and me (poore lowly Maide) Most Goddesse-like prank'd vp: But that our Feasts In euery Messe, haue folly; and the Feeders Digest with a Custome, I should blush To see you so attyr'd: sworne I thinke, To shew my selfe a glasse