_Pol._ This is a brave fellow. _Clo._ Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited 200 fellow. Has he any unbraided wares? _Serv._ He hath ribbons of all the colours i' the rainbow; points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come to him by the gross: inkles, caddisses, cambrics, lawns: why, he sings 'em over as they 205 were gods or goddesses; you would think a smock were a she-angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and the work about the square on't. _Clo._ Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing. _Per._ Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's 210 tunes. [_Exit Servant._ _Clo._ You have of these pedlars, that have more in them than you'ld think, sister. _Per._ Ay, good brother, or go about to think. _Enter_ AUTOLYCUS, _singing._ Lawn as white as driven snow; 215 Cypress black as e'er was crow; Gloves as sweet as damask roses; Masks for faces and for noses; Bugle bracelet, necklace amber, Perfume for a lady's chamber; 220 Golden quoifs and stomachers, For my lads to give their dears; Pins and poking-sticks of steel, What maids lack from head to heel: Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy; 225 Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry: Come buy. _Clo._ If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves. 230 _Mop._ I was promised them against the feast; but they come not too late now. _Dor._ He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars. _Mop._ He hath paid you all he promised you: may be, he 235 has paid you more, which will shame you to give him again. _Clo._ Is there no manners left among maids? will they wear their plackets where they should bear their faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling 240 before all our guests? 'tis well they are whispering: clamour your tongues, and not a word more. _Mop._ I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace and a pair of sweet gloves. _Clo._ Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the 245 way and lost all my money? _Ant._ And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore it behoves men to be wary. _Clo._ Fear not thou, man, thou shall lose nothing here. _Ant._ I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels 250 of charge. _Clo._ What hast here? ballads? _Mop._ Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true.