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Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
Affliction alters.
PERDITA:
One of these is true:
I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
But not take in the mind.
CAMILLO:
Yea, say you so?
There shall not at your father's house these
seven years
Be born another such.
FLORIZEL:
My good Camillo,
She is as forward of her breeding as
She is i' the rear our birth.
CAMILLO:
I cannot say 'tis pity
She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress
To most that teach.
PERDITA:
Your pardon, sir; for this
I'll blush you thanks.
FLORIZEL:
My prettiest Perdita!
But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo,
Preserver of my father, now of me,
The medicine of our house, how shall we do?
We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son,
Nor shall appear in Sicilia.
CAMILLO:
My lord,
Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes
Do all lie there: it shall be so my care
To have you royally appointed as if
The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
That you may know you shall not want, one word.
AUTOLYCUS:
Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his
sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold
all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a
ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad,
knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring,
to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who
should buy first, as if my trinkets had been
hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer:
by which means I saw whose purse was best in
picture; and what I saw, to my good use I
remembered. My clown, who wants but something to
be a reasonable man, grew so in love with the
wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes
till he had both tune and words; which so drew the
rest of the herd to me that all their other senses
stuck in ears: you might have pinched a placket, it
was senseless; 'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a
purse; I could have filed keys off that hung in
chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song,
and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this
time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their
festival purses; and had not the old man come in
with a whoo-bub against his daughter and the king's
son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not
left a purse alive in the whole army.
CAMILLO:
Nay, but my letters, by this means being there
So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
FLORIZEL:
And those that you'll procure from King Leontes--
CAMILLO:
Shall satisfy your father.
PERDITA:
Happy be you!
All that you speak shows fair.
CAMILLO:
Who have we here?
We'll make an instrument of this, omit
Nothing may give us aid.
AUTOLYCUS:
If they have overheard me now, why, hanging.
CAMILLO:
How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear
not, man; here's no harm intended to thee.
AUTOLYCUS:
I am a poor fellow, sir.