AUTOLYCUS.
[Aside.] If they have overheard me now,—why, hanging.
CAMILLO.
How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear not, man; here’s no harm intended to thee.
AUTOLYCUS.
I am a poor fellow, sir.
CAMILLO.
Why, be so still; here’s nobody will steal that from thee: yet, for the outside of thy poverty we must make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly,—thou must think there’s a necessity in’t—and change garments with this gentleman: though the pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee, there’s some boot.
[Giving money.]
AUTOLYCUS.
I am a poor fellow, sir: [Aside.] I know ye well enough.
CAMILLO.
Nay, prithee dispatch: the gentleman is half flayed already.
AUTOLYCUS.
Are you in earnest, sir? [Aside.] I smell the trick on’t.
FLORIZEL.
Dispatch, I prithee.
AUTOLYCUS.
Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with conscience take it.