The Bodleian First Folio

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Reference: 2B1v - Comedies, p. 290

Left Column


The Winters Tale.

of that penitent (as thou calst him) and reconciled King

my brother, whose losse of his most precious Queene &

[1610]

Children, are euen now to be a‑fresh lamented. Say to

me, when saw’st thou the Prince Florizell my son? Kings

are no lesse vnhappy, their issue, not being gracious, then

they are in loosing them, when they haue approued their

Vertues.

Cam.
[1615]

Sir, it is three dayes since I saw the Prince: what

his happier affayres may be, are to me vnknowne: but I

haue (missingly) noted, he is of late much retyred from

Court, and is lesse frequent to his Princely exercises then

formerly he hath appeared.

Pol.
[1620]

I haue considered so much ( Camillo) and with

some care, so farre, that I haue eyes vnder my seruice,

which looke vpon his remouednesse: from whom I haue

this Intelligence, that he is seldome from the house of a

most homely shepheard: a man (they say) that from very

[1625]

nothing, and beyond the imagination of his neighbors,

is growne into an vnspeakable estate.

Cam.

I haue heard (sir) of such a man, who hath a

daughter of most rare note: the report of her is extended

more, then can be thought to begin from such a cottage

Pol.
[1630]

That’s likewise part of my Intelligence: but (I

feare) the Angle that pluckes our sonne thither. Thou

shalt accompany vs to the place, where we will (not app­

earing what we are) haue some question with the shep­

heard; from whose simplicity, I thinke it not vneasie to

[1635]

get the cause of my sonnes resort thether. 'Prethe be my

present partner in this busines, and lay aside the thoughts

of Sicillia.

Cam.

I willingly obey your command.

Pol.

My best Camillo, we must disguise our selues.

Exit
Scena Tertia. [Act 4, Scene 3] Enter Autolicus singing.
[1640]
When Daffadils begin to peere, With heigh the Doxy ouer the dale, Why then comes in the sweet o’the yeere, For the red blood raigns in y4 the winters pale.
The white sheete bleaching on the hedge,
[1645]
With hey the sweet birds, O how they sing: Doth set my pugging tooth an edge, For a quart of Ale is a dish for a King.
The Larke, that tirra Lyra chaunts, With heigh, the Thrush and the Iay:
[1650]
Are Summer songs for me and my Aunts While we lye tumbling in the hay.

I haue seru’d Prince Florizell, and in my time wore three

pile, but now I am out of seruice.

But shall I go mourne for that (my deere)
[1655]
the pale Moone shines by night: And when I wander here, and there I then do most go right. If Tinkers may haue leaue to liue, and beare the Sow‑skin Bowget,
[1660]
Then my account I well may giue, and in the Stockes auouch‑it.

My Trafficke is sheetes: when the Kite builds, looke to

lesser Linnen. My Father nam’d me Autolicus, who be­

Image


[full image]

Right Column


ing (as I am) lytter’d vnder Mercurie, was likewise a

[1665]

snapper‑vp of vnconsidered trifles: With Dye and drab,

I purchas’d this Caparison, and my Reuennew is the silly

Cheate. Gallowes, and Knocke, are too powerfull on

the Highway. Beating and hanging are terrors to mee:

For the life to come, I sleepe out the thought of it. A

[1670]

prize, a prize.

Enter Clowne. Clo.

Let me see, euery Leauen‑weather toddes, euery

tod yeeldes pound and odde shilling: fifteene hundred

shorne, what comes the wooll too?

Aut.

If the sprindge hold, the Cocke’s mine.

Clo.
[1675]

I cannot do’t without Compters. Let mee see,

what am I to buy for our Sheepe‑shearing‑Feast? Three

pound of Sugar, fiue pound of Currence, Rice: What

will this sister of mine do with Rice? But my father hath

made her Mistris of the Feast, and she layes it on. Shee

[1680]

hath made‑me four and twenty Nose‑gayes for the shea­

rers (three‑man song‑men, all, and very good ones) but

they are most of them Meanes and Bases; but one Puri­

tan amongst them, and he sings Psalmes to horne‑pipes.

I must haue Saffron to colour the Warden Pies, Mace:

[1685]

Dates, none: that’s out of my note: Nutmegges, seuen;

a Race or two of Ginger, but that I may begge: Foure

pound of Prewyns, and as many of Reysons o’th Sun.

Aut.

Oh, that euer I was borne.

Clo.

I’th’name of me.

Aut.
[1690]

Oh helpe me, helpe mee: plucke but off these

ragges: and then, death, death.

Clo.

Alacke poore soule, thou hast need of more rags

to lay on thee, rather then haue these off.

Aut.

Oh sir, the loathsomnesse of them offend mee,

[1695]

more then the stripes I haue receiued, which are mightie

ones and millions.

Clo.

Alas poore man, a million of beating may come

to a great matter.

Aut.

I am rob’d sir, and beaten: my money, and ap­

[1700]

parrell tane from me, and these detestable things put vp­

on me.

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

[1705]

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.
[1710]

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.
[1715]

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

[1720]

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

[1725]

with Troll‑my‑dames: I knew him once a seruant of the

Prince: I cannot tell good sir, for which of his Ver­

tues it was, but hee was certainely Whipt out of the

Court.

Clo.

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Scena Tertia. [Act 4, Scene 3] Enter Autolicus singing.
[1640]
When Daffadils begin to peere, With heigh the Doxy ouer the dale, Why then comes in the sweet o’the yeere, For the red blood raigns in y4 the winters pale.
The white sheete bleaching on the hedge,
[1645]
With hey the sweet birds, O how they sing: Doth set my pugging tooth an edge, For a quart of Ale is a dish for a King.
The Larke, that tirra Lyra chaunts, With heigh, the Thrush and the Iay:
[1650]
Are Summer songs for me and my Aunts While we lye tumbling in the hay.

I haue seru’d Prince Florizell, and in my time wore three

pile, but now I am out of seruice.

But shall I go mourne for that (my deere)
[1655]
the pale Moone shines by night: And when I wander here, and there I then do most go right. If Tinkers may haue leaue to liue, and beare the Sow‑skin Bowget,
[1660]
Then my account I well may giue, and in the Stockes auouch‑it.

My Trafficke is sheetes: when the Kite builds, looke to

lesser Linnen. My Father nam’d me Autolicus, who be­

ing (as I am) lytter’d vnder Mercurie, was likewise a

[1665]

snapper‑vp of vnconsidered trifles: With Dye and drab,

I purchas’d this Caparison, and my Reuennew is the silly

Cheate. Gallowes, and Knocke, are too powerfull on

the Highway. Beating and hanging are terrors to mee:

For the life to come, I sleepe out the thought of it. A

[1670]

prize, a prize.

Enter Clowne. Clo.

Let me see, euery Leauen‑weather toddes, euery

tod yeeldes pound and odde shilling: fifteene hundred

shorne, what comes the wooll too?

Aut.

If the sprindge hold, the Cocke’s mine.

Clo.
[1675]

I cannot do’t without Compters. Let mee see,

what am I to buy for our Sheepe‑shearing‑Feast? Three

pound of Sugar, fiue pound of Currence, Rice: What

will this sister of mine do with Rice? But my father hath

made her Mistris of the Feast, and she layes it on. Shee

[1680]

hath made‑me four and twenty Nose‑gayes for the shea­

rers (three‑man song‑men, all, and very good ones) but

they are most of them Meanes and Bases; but one Puri­

tan amongst them, and he sings Psalmes to horne‑pipes.

I must haue Saffron to colour the Warden Pies, Mace:

[1685]

Dates, none: that’s out of my note: Nutmegges, seuen;

a Race or two of Ginger, but that I may begge: Foure

pound of Prewyns, and as many of Reysons o’th Sun.

Aut.

Oh, that euer I was borne.

Clo.

I’th’name of me.

Aut.
[1690]

Oh helpe me, helpe mee: plucke but off these

ragges: and then, death, death.

Clo.

Alacke poore soule, thou hast need of more rags

to lay on thee, rather then haue these off.

Aut.

Oh sir, the loathsomnesse of them offend mee,

[1695]

more then the stripes I haue receiued, which are mightie

ones and millions.

Clo.

Alas poore man, a million of beating may come

to a great matter.

Aut.

I am rob’d sir, and beaten: my money, and ap­

[1700]

parrell tane from me, and these detestable things put vp­

on me.

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

[1705]

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.
[1710]

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.
[1715]

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

[1720]

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

[1725]

with Troll‑my‑dames: I knew him once a seruant of the

Prince: I cannot tell good sir, for which of his Ver­

tues it was, but hee was certainely Whipt out of the

Court.

Clo.

His vices you would say: there’s no vertue whipt

[1730]

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 Baylffe) then hee compast a Motion of the Prodigall

[1735]

sonne, and married a Tinkers wife, within a Mile where

my Land and Liuing lyes; and (hauing flowne ouer ma­

ny knauish professions) he setled onely in Rogue: some

call him Autolicus.

Clo.

Out vpon him: Prig, for my life Prig: he haunts

[1740]

Wakes, Faires, and Beare‑baitings.

Aut.

Very true sir: he sir hee: that’s the Rogue that

put me into this apparel.

Clo.

Not a more cowardly Rogue in all Bohemia; If

you had but look’d bigge, and spit at him, hee’ld haue

[1745]

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,

[1750]

and walke: I will euen take my leaue of you, & pace soft­

ly 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

[1755]

sheepe‑shearing.

Exit. Aut.

Prosper you sweet sir. Your purse is not hot e­

nough 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,

[1760]

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.
Exit.
 

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<div type="scene" n="3">
   <head rend="center">Scena Tertia.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 4, Scene 3]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="mixed">Enter Autolicus singing.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <lg rend="italic">
         <l n="1640">When Daffadils begin to peere,</l>
         <l n="1641">With heigh the Doxy ouer the dale,</l>
         <l n="1642">Why then comes in the sweet o’the yeere,</l>
         <l n="1643">For the red blood raigns in<choice>
               <abbr>y4</abbr>
               <expan>the</expan>
            </choice>winters pale.</l>
      </lg>
      <lg rend="italic">
         <l n="1644">The white sheete bleaching on the hedge,</l>
         <l n="1645">With hey the sweet birds, O how they sing:</l>
         <l n="1646">Doth set my pugging tooth an edge,</l>
         <l n="1647">For a quart of Ale is a dish for a King.</l>
      </lg>
      <lg rend="italic">
         <l n="1648">The Larke, that tirra Lyra chaunts,</l>
         <l n="1649">With heigh, the Thrush and the Iay:</l>
         <l n="1650">Are Summer songs for me and my Aunts</l>
         <l n="1651">While we lye tumbling in the hay.</l>
      </lg>
      <p n="1652">I haue seru’d Prince<hi rend="italic">Florizell</hi>, and in my time wore three
      <lb n="1653"/>pile, but now I am out of seruice.</p>
      <lg rend="italic">
         <l n="1654">But shall I go mourne for that (my deere)</l>
         <l n="1655">the pale Moone shines by night:</l>
         <l n="1656">And when I wander here, and there</l>
         <l n="1657">I then do most go right.</l>
         <l n="1658">If Tinkers may haue leaue to liue,</l>
         <l n="1659">and beare the Sow‑skin Bowget,</l>
         <l n="1660">Then my account I well may giue,</l>
         <l n="1661">and in the Stockes auouch‑it.</l>
      </lg>
      <p n="1662">My Trafficke is sheetes: when the Kite builds, looke to
      <lb n="1663"/>lesser Linnen. My Father nam’d me<hi rend="italic">Autolicus</hi>, who be­<cb n="2"/>
         
      <lb n="1664"/>ing (as I am) lytter’d vnder Mercurie, was likewise a
      <lb n="1665"/>snapper‑vp of vnconsidered trifles: With Dye and drab,
      <lb n="1666"/>I purchas’d this Caparison, and my Reuennew is the silly
      <lb n="1667"/>Cheate. Gallowes, and Knocke, are too powerfull on
      <lb n="1668"/>the Highway. Beating and hanging are terrors to mee:
      <lb n="1669"/>For the life to come, I sleepe out the thought of it. A
      <lb n="1670"/>prize, a prize.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Clowne.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1671">Let me see, euery Leauen‑weather toddes, euery
      <lb n="1672"/>tod yeeldes pound and odde shilling: fifteene hundred
      <lb n="1673"/>shorne, what comes the wooll too?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1674">If the sprindge hold, the Cocke’s mine.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1675">I cannot do’t without Compters. Let mee see,
      <lb n="1676"/>what am I to buy for our Sheepe‑shearing‑Feast? Three
      <lb n="1677"/>pound of Sugar, fiue pound of Currence, Rice: What
      <lb n="1678"/>will this sister of mine do with Rice? But my father hath
      <lb n="1679"/>made her Mistris of the Feast, and she layes it on. Shee
      <lb n="1680"/>hath made‑me four and twenty Nose‑gayes for the shea­
      <lb n="1681"/>rers (three‑man song‑men, all, and very good ones) but
      <lb n="1682"/>they are most of them Meanes and Bases; but one Puri­
      <lb n="1683"/>tan amongst them, and he sings Psalmes to horne‑pipes.
      <lb n="1684"/>I must haue Saffron to colour the Warden Pies, Mace:
      <lb n="1685"/>Dates, none: that’s out of my note: Nutmegges, seuen;
      <lb n="1686"/>a Race or two of Ginger, but that I may begge: Foure
      <lb n="1687"/>pound of Prewyns, and as many of Reysons o’th Sun.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1688">Oh, that euer I was borne.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1689">I’th’name of me.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1690">Oh helpe me, helpe mee: plucke but off these
      <lb n="1691"/>ragges: and then, death, death.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1692">Alacke poore soule, thou hast need of more rags
      <lb n="1693"/>to lay on thee, rather then haue these off.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1694">Oh sir, the loathsomnesse of them offend mee,
      <lb n="1695"/>more then the stripes I haue receiued, which are mightie
      <lb n="1696"/>ones and millions.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1697">Alas poore man, a million of beating may come
      <lb n="1698"/>to a great matter.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1699">I am rob’d sir, and beaten: my money, and ap­
      <lb n="1700"/>parrell tane from me, and these detestable things put vp­
      <lb n="1701"/>on me.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1702">What, by a horse‑man, or a foot‑man?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1703">A footman (sweet sir) a footman.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1704">Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments
      <lb n="1705"/>he has left with thee: If this bee a horsemans Coate, it
      <lb n="1706"/>hath seene very hot seruice. Lend me thy hand, Ile helpe
      <lb n="1707"/>thee. Come, lend me thy hand.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1708">Oh good sir, tenderly, oh.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1709">Alas poore soule.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1710">Oh good sir, softly, good sir: I feare (sir) my
      <lb n="1711"/>shoulder‑blade is out.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1712">How now? Canst stand?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1713">Softly, deere sir: good sir, softly: you ha done
      <lb n="1714"/>me a charitable office.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1715">Doest lacke any mony? I haue a little mony for
      <lb n="1716"/>thee.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1717">No, good sweet sir: no, I beseech you sir: I haue
      <lb n="1718"/>a Kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, vnto
      <lb n="1719"/>whome I was going: I shall there haue money, or anie
      <lb n="1720"/>thing I want: Offer me no money I pray you, that killes
      <lb n="1721"/>my heart.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clow.</speaker>
      <p n="1722">What manner of Fellow was hee that robb’d
      <lb n="1723"/>you?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1724">A fellow (sir) that I haue knowne to goe about
      <lb n="1725"/>with Troll‑my‑dames: I knew him once a seruant of the
      <lb n="1726"/>Prince: I cannot tell good sir, for which of his Ver­
      <lb n="1727"/>tues it was, but hee was certainely Whipt out of the
      <lb n="1728"/>Court.</p>
   </sp>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0311-0.jpg" n="291"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1729">His vices you would say: there’s no vertue whipt
      <lb n="1730"/>out of the Court: they cherish it to make it stay there;
      <lb n="1731"/>and yet it will no more but abide.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1732">Vices I would say (Sir.) I know this man well,
      <lb n="1733"/>he hath bene since an Ape‑bearer, then a Processe‑seruer
      <lb n="1734"/>(a Baylffe) then hee compast a Motion of the Prodigall
      <lb n="1735"/>sonne, and married a Tinkers wife, within a Mile where
      <lb n="1736"/>my Land and Liuing lyes; and (hauing flowne ouer ma­
      <lb n="1737"/>ny knauish professions) he setled onely in Rogue: some
      <lb n="1738"/>call him<hi rend="italic">Autolicus</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1739">Out vpon him: Prig, for my life Prig: he haunts
      <lb n="1740"/>Wakes, Faires, and Beare‑baitings.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1741">Very true sir: he sir hee: that’s the Rogue that
      <lb n="1742"/>put me into this apparel.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1743">Not a more cowardly Rogue in all<hi rend="italic">Bohemia</hi>; If
      <lb n="1744"/>you had but look’d bigge, and spit at him, hee’ld haue
      <lb n="1745"/>runne.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1746">I must confesse to you (sir) I am no fighter: I am
      <lb n="1747"/>false of heart that way, &amp; that he knew I warrant him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1748">How do you now?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1749">Sweet sir, much better then I was: I can stand,
      <lb n="1750"/>and walke: I will euen take my leaue of you, &amp; pace soft­
      <lb n="1751"/>ly towards my Kinsmans.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1752">Shall I bring thee on the way?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1753">No, good fac’d sir, no sweet sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-wt-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="1754">Then fartheewell, I must go buy Spices for our
      <lb n="1755"/>sheepe‑shearing.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-wt-aut">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aut.</speaker>
      <p n="1756">Prosper you sweet sir. Your purse is not hot e­
      <lb n="1757"/>nough to purchase your Spice: Ile be with you at your
      <lb n="1758"/>sheepe‑shearing too: If I make not this Cheat bring out
      <lb n="1759"/>another, and the sheerers proue sheepe, let me be vnrold,
      <lb n="1760"/>and my name put in the booke of Vertue.</p>
      <stage type="business">Song.</stage>
      <lg rend="italic">
         <l n="1761">Iog‑on, Iog‑on, the foot‑path way,</l>
         <l n="1762">And merrily hent the Stile‑a:</l>
         <l n="1763">A merry heart goes all the day,</l>
         <l n="1764">Your sad tyres in a Mile‑a.</l>
      </lg>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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