Aut. Five juftices hands at it; and witneffes, 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 fome merry ones.

Aut. Why, this is a paffing merry one, and goes to the tune of, Two maids wooing a man; there's scarce a maid weftward, but fhe fings it: 'tis in request, I can tell you.

Mop. We can both fing 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.

Aut. Get you hence, for I must go
Where it fits not you to know.

Dor. Whither?

Mop. O whither?

Dor. Whither?

Mop. It becomes thy oath full well,
Thou to me thy fecrets tell.

Dor. Me too, let me go thither:
Mop. Or thou goeft to th' grange, or mill,
Dor. If to either, thou doft ill:

Aut. Neither.

Dor. What neither?

Aut. Neither.

Dor. Thou hast fworn my love to be
Mop. Thou haft fworn it more to me:

Then whither goeft? fay, whither?

Clo. We'll have this fong out anon by ourselves, my father and the gentlemen are in fad talk, and we'll not trouble them: come, bring away thy pack after me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both. Pedler, let's have the first choice. Follow me, girls.

Aut. And you fhall pay well for 'em.

[afide. SONG

SONG.

Will you buy any tape,
Or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?
And filk, and thread,
Any toys for your head

Of the new'ft, and finft, fin'ft wear-a?
Come to the Pedler;
Mony's a medler,

That doth utter all mens ware-a.

[Ex. Clown, Autolycus, Dorcas, and Mopfa,

Ser. Mafter, there are three carters, three fhẹpherds, three neat-herds, and three fwine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair', they call themfelves

Mafler, there are three Carters, three Shepherds, three Neat berds, and three Savine-herds,-] Thus all the printed Copies hitherto, Now, in two Speeches after this, thefe are called four three's of Herdfmen. But could the Carters properly be called Herdmen? At least, they have not the final Syllable, Herd, in their Names; which, I believe, Shakespeare intended, all the four three's fhould have. I therefore guefs that he wrote; Mafter, there are three Goat-herds, &c. And fo, I think, we take in the four Species of Cattle ufually tended by Herdmen.

7

all men of hair,] i. e. nimble, that leap as if they rebounded: The phrafe is taken from tennis balls, which were ftuffed with hair. So in Henry V. it is faid of a courfer,

He bounds as if his entrails were bairs. WARBURTON.

This is a frange interpretation. Errors, fays Dryden, flor upon the furface, but there are men who will fetch them from the bottom. Men of hair are hairy men, or fatyrs. A dance of fatyrs was no unufual entertainment in the middle ages. At a great feftival celebrated in France, the king and fome of THEOBALD. the nobles perfonated faty's X 3

dreffed

felves Saltiers: and they have a dance, which the wenches fay is a gallymaufry of gambols, because they are not in't but they themselves are o'th mind, if it be not too rough for fome, that know little but bowling, it will pleafe 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 thofe, that refresh us. Pray, let fee these four-threes of herdfmen.

Ser. 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 the fquare.

Shep. Leave your prating; fince thefe good men are pleas'd, let them come in; but quickly now.

Here a Dance of twelve Satyrs.

Pol. [afide.] O, father, you'll know more of that
8
hereafter

Is it not too far gone? 'tis time to part them.
He's fimple, and tells much.-How now, fair shep-

herd?

Your heart is full of fomething, that doth take
Your mind from feafting.

dreffed in close habits, tufted or
Thagged all over, to imitate hair.
They began a wild dance, and in
the tumult of their merriment
one of them went too near a
candle and fet fire to his fatyr's
garb; the flame ran inftantly over
the loofe tufts, and spread itself
to the dress of those that were
next him; a great number of the
dancers were cruelly fcorched,
being neither able to throw off
their coats nor extinguish them.
The king had fet himfelf in the
lap of the dutchess of Burgundy,

Sooth, when I was young,

who threw her robe over him and faved him.

• Bowling, I believe, is here a term for a dance of fmooth motion without great exertion of agility.

Pol. O, father, you'll know

more of that hereafter.] This is replied by the King in answer to the fhepherd's faying, finct these good men are pleased. Yet the Oxford Editor, I can't tell why, gives this line to Florizel, fince Florizel and the old man were not in conversation.

WARBURTON.
And

And handed love, as you do, I was wont

To load my fhe with knacks; I would have ranfack'd
The pedler's filken treafury, and have pour'd it
To her acceptance; you have let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your lafs
Interpretation fhould abufe, and call this
Your lack of love or bounty; you were straited
For a reply, at leaft, if you make care
Of happy holding her.

Flo. Old Sir, I know,

She prizes not fuch trifles as these are;

The gifts, the looks from me, art packt and lockt
Up in my heart, which I have given already,
But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my love
Before this ancient Sir, who, it should feem,
Hath fometime lov'd. I take thy hand, this hand,
As foft as dove's down, and as white as it,
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd fnow

That's bolted by the northern blast twice o'er.
Pol. What follows this?

How prettily the young fwain seems to wash
The hand, was fair before!-I've put you out-
But, to your proteftation: let me hear

What you profess.

Flo. Do, and be witness to't.

Pol. And this my neighbour too?

Flo. And he, and more

Than he, and men; the earth, and heav'ns, and all;
That were I crown'd the most imperial monarch
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
That ever made eye fwerve, had force and knowledge
More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
Without her love; for her imploy them all;
Commend them, and condemn them, to her fervice,
Or to their own perdition.

Pol. Fairly offer'd.

Cam. This fhews a found affection.

Shep. But, my daughter,

X 4

Say

So well, nothing so well, no, nor mean better.
By th' pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his.

Shep. Take hands, a bargain;

And, friends unknown, you shall bear witnefs to't:
I give my daughter to him, and will make
Her portion equal his.

Flo. O, that must be

I'th' virtue of your daughter; one being dead,
I fhall have more than you can dream of yet,
Enough then for your wonder. But come on,
Contract us 'fore these witnesses.

Shep. Come, your hand,

And, daughter, yours.

Pol. Soft, fwain, a while; 'befeech you,

Have you a father?

Flo. I have; but what of him?

Pol. Knows he of this?

Flo. He neither does, nor fhall.

Pol. Methinks, a father

Is, at the nuptial of his fon, a guest

That best becomes the table: 'pray you once more, Is not your father grown incapable

Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid

With age, and alt'ring rheums? can he fpeak? hear?
Know man from man? difpute his own estate ?
Lies he not bed-rid? and, again, does nothing,
But what he did being childish?

Flo. No, good Sir;

He has his health, and ampler ftrength, indeed,

Than moft have of his age.

Pol. By my white beard,

You offer him, if this be fo, a wrong.

difpute his own eftate?] Perhaps for difpute we might read compute; but difpute his eftate may

be the fame with talk over bis affairs.

Something