Aut.

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, browch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shooe-tye, bracelet, horn-ring to keep my pack from fastning: 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 remember'd. My good 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 pinch'd a placket, it was senseless, 'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a purse; I would 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 pick'd 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 scar'd my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the whole army.

Cam.

Nay; but my letters by this means being there, so soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.

Flo.

And those that you'll procure from King Leontes—

Cam.

Shall satisfie your father.

Per.
Happy be you:
All that you speak shews fair.

Cam.
Who have we here?
We'll make an instrument of this; omit
Nothing may give us aid.

Aut.
If they have over-heard me now: why hanging.

Cam.
How now, good fellow,
Why shak'st thou so? fear not, man,
Here's no harm intended to thee.

Aut.

I am a poor fellow, Sir.

Cam.

Why, be so still: here's no body will steal that from thee; yet for the outside of thy poverty, we must make an exchange: therefore discase thee instantly, (thou must think there's a necessity in't) and change garments with this gentleman: tho' the penny-worth, on his side, be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot.

Aut.

I am a poor fellow, Sir; I know ye well enough.

Cam.

Nay, pr'ythee dispatch: the gentleman is half flead already.

Aut.

Are you in earnest, Sir? I smell the trick on't.

Flo.

Dispatch, I pr'ythee.

Aut.

Indeed I have had earnest, but I cannot with conscience take it.

Cam.
Unbuckle, unbuckle.
Fortunate mistress, (let my prophecy
Come home to ye,) you must retire your self
Into some covert; take your sweet-heart's hat
And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,
Dismantle you, and as you can, disliken

The truth of your own seeming, that you may
(For I do fear eyes over you) to ship-board
Get undescry'd.

Per.
I see the play so lyes
That I must bear a part.

Cam.
No remedy—
Have you done there?

Flo.
Should I now meet my father,
He would not call me son.

Cam.
Nay, you shall have no hat:
Come lady, come: farewel, my friend.

Aut.
Adieu, Sir.

Flo.
O Perdita, what have we twain forgot?
Pray you a word.

Cam.
What I do next, shall be to tell the King [Aside.
Of this escape, and whither they are bound:
Wherein my hope is, I shall so prevail
To force him after; in whose company
I shall review Sicilia; for whose sight
I have a woman's longing.

Flo.
Fortune speed us,
Thus we set on, Camillo, to th' sea side. [Ex. Flo. & Per.

Cam.
The swifter speed, the better. [Exit.

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