The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare


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Page 30

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.
Pr'ythee, 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.

[Exeunt.]



SCENE III. The same. A Road near the Shepherd's cottage.

[Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing.]

AUTOLYCUS.
When daffodils begin to peer,--
With, hey! 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, hey! 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-lirra chants,--
With, hey! with, hey! the thrush and the jay,--
Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
While we lie tumbling in the hay.

I have serv'd 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, I as 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!

[Enter CLOWN.]

CLOWN.
Let me see:--every 'leven wether tods; every tod yields pound
and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn, what comes the wool to?

AUTOLYCUS.
[Aside.] If the springe hold, the cock's mine.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sat 13th Sep 2025, 12:12