SHEPHERD.
None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen.
AUTOLYCUS.
How bless’d are we that are not simple men!
Yet nature might have made me as these are,
Therefore I will not disdain.
CLOWN.
This cannot be but a great courtier.
SHEPHERD.
His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomely.
CLOWN.
He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical: a great man, I’ll warrant; I know by the picking on’s teeth.
AUTOLYCUS.
The fardel there? What’s i’ th’ fardel? Wherefore that box?
SHEPHERD.
Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box which none must know but the king; and which he shall know within this hour, if I may come to th’ speech of him.
AUTOLYCUS.
Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
SHEPHERD.
Why, sir?
AUTOLYCUS.
The king is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: for, if thou beest capable of things serious, thou must know the king is full of grief.