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The Winters Tale Page: 50
'twas nothing to gueld a Cod-peece of a Purse: I
would haue fill'd Keyes of that hung in Chaynes: no
hearing, no feeling, but my Sirs Song, and admiring the
Nothing of it. So that in this time of Lethargie, I pickd
and cut most of their Festiuall Purses: And had not the
old-man come in with a Whoo-bub against his Daughter,
and the Kings Sonne, and scar'd my Chowghes from
the Chaffe, I had not left a Purse aliue in the whole
Army
Cam. Nay, but my Letters by this meanes being there
So soone as you arriue, shall cleare that doubt
Flo. And those that you'le procure from King Leontes?
Cam. Shall satisfie your Father
Perd. Happy be you:
All that you speake, shewes faire
Cam. Who haue we here?
Wee'le make an Instrument of this: omit
Nothing may giue vs aide
Aut. If they haue ouer-heard me now: why hanging
Cam. How now (good Fellow)
Why shak'st thou so? Feare not (man)
Here's no harme intended to thee
Aut. I am a poore Fellow, Sir
Cam. Why, be so still: here's no body will steale that
from thee: yet for the out-side of thy pouertie, we must
make an exchange; therefore dis-case thee instantly (thou
must thinke there's a necessitie in't) and change Garments
with this Gentleman: Though the penny-worth (on his
side) be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot
Aut. I am a poore Fellow, Sir: (I know ye well
enough.)
Cam. Nay prethee dispatch: the Gentleman is halfe
fled already
Aut. Are you in earnest, Sir? (I smell the trick on't.)
Flo. Dispatch, I prethee
Aut. Indeed I haue had Earnest, but I cannot with
conscience take it
Cam. Vnbuckle, vnbuckle.
Fortunate Mistresse (let my prophecie
Come home to ye:) you must retire your selfe
Into some Couert; take your sweet-hearts Hat
And pluck it ore your Browes, muffle your face,
Dis-mantle you, and (as you can) disliken
The truth of your owne seeming, that you may
(For I doe feare eyes ouer) to Ship-boord
Get vndescry'd
Perd. I see the Play so lyes,
That I must beare a part
Cam. No remedie:
Haue you done there?
Flo. Should I now meet my Father,
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