_Flo._ My prettiest Perdita! But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo, Preserver of my father, now of me, 575 The medicine of our house, how shall we do? We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son, Nor shall appear in Sicilia. _Cam._ My lord, Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes Do all lie there: it shall be so my care 580 To have you royally appointed as if The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, That you may know you shall not want, one word. [_They talk aside._ _Re-enter_ AUTOLYCUS. _Aut._ Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all 585 my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer: by which 590 means I saw whose purse was best in picture; and what I saw, to my good use I remembered. My 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 595 herd to me, that all their other senses stuck in ears: you might have pinched 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 600 of lethargy I picked 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 scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the whole army. [_Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward._ _Cam._ Nay, but my letters, by this means being there 605 So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. _Flo._ And those that you'll procure from King Leontes-- _Cam._ Shall satisfy your father. _Per._ Happy be you! All that you speak shows fair. _Cam._ Who have we here? [_Seeing Autolycus._ We'll make an instrument of this; omit 610 Nothing may give us aid. _Aut._ If they have overheard me now, why, hanging. _Cam._ How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear not, man; here's no harm intended to thee. _Aut._ I am a poor fellow, sir. 615