Page 806 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

When daffodils begin to peer,
With heigh! 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, [5]

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 lark, that tirra-lirra chants,
With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the

jay, [10]
Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
While we lie tumbling in the hay.

I have served 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? [15]
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, [20]
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 as I am, littered under Mercury, was
likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered [25] 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! [30]

Enter Clown.