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POLIXENES: |
As thou lovest 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 callest 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 sawest 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. |
AUTOLYCUS: |
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-lyra 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 served Prince Florizel and in my time |
wore three-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 |
lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus; who |
being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise |
a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With die and |
drab I purchased this caparison, and my revenue is |
the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are too powerful |
on the highway: beating and hanging are terrors to |
me: for the life to come, I sleep out the thought |
of it. A prize! a prize! |
Clown: |
Let me see: every 'leven wether tods; every tod |
yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred |
shorn. what comes the wool to? |
AUTOLYCUS: |
Clown: |
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