But I will praise ’mong men the masters of mind In music and song, Who follow the love of God to bless their kind: And I pray they find A marriage of mirth— And a life long 870 With the gaiety of the Earth. _Ch._ There stands an old man down beneath the bank, Gazing, and beckoning to us. _Deid._ He is a stranger, That burdened with some package to the palace Hath missed his way about, and fears to intrude. Go some and show him. [_Some run out._ Meanwhile what do we? We have no sport when Pyrrha is away. Our game is broken. Come, a thought, a thought! Hath none a thought? _Ch._ We have never built the bower. _Deid._ Ye idled gathering flowers. Now ’tis too late. _Ch._ Let us play ball. _Deid._ The sun is still so high. 881 I shall go feed my doves. (_Re-enter one of Chorus._) _Ch._ The old man saith That he is a pedlar, and hath wares to sell If he may show them. Shall he come? _Deid._ Now Hermes, The father of device and jugglery, Be thanked for this; ’tis he hath sent him.—Call him. His tales may be good hearing, tho’ his pack Repay not search. But be advised: beware, Lest he bear off more than he bring: these fellows Have fingers to unclasp a brooch or pin 890 While the eye winks that watches. There was one Who as he ran a race would steal the shoes Of any that ran with him. The prince of all Was merry Autolycus. _Enter, with those who had gone out, Ulysses as a pedlar._ Good day, old man. Come, let us see thy wares. _Ul._ I have no breath left, Wherewith to thank you, ladies; the little hill Has ta’en it from me. _Deid._ Rest awhile, and tell us Whence thou art come. _Ul._ In a Greek ship this morn. I pray you, that I lack not courtesy, Art thou the princess of this isle? _Deid._ I am. 900 _Ul._ My true and humble service to your highness. _Deid._ In turn say who art thou, and whence thy ship.