Singing a song for Autolycus
I have barely known but one Autolycus in my life, other than him who Shakespeare sung, then dubbed in prose: My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus; who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With die and … More Singing a song for Autolycus











