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SHEPHERD. Fie, daughter! When my old wife liv’d, upon This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, Both dame and servant; welcom’d all; serv’d all; Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here At upper end o’ th’ table, now i’ th’ middle; On his shoulder, and his; her face o’ fire With labour, and the thing she took to quench it She would to each one sip. You are retired, As if you were a feasted one, and not The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid These unknown friends to ’s welcome, for it is A way to make us better friends, more known. Come, quench your blushes, and present yourself That which you are, mistress o’ th’ feast. Come on, And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing, As your good flock shall prosper.