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sły. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law; I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, and kindly.
(Falls asleep. SCENE II. Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting with a Train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee tender well my
Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord ;
Lord. Thou art a fool; if Eccho were as fleet,
Hun. I will, my Lord.
he breathe 2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warm'd
with ale, This were a bed but cold, to sleep so foundly.
Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies ! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you if he were convey'd to bed, Wrapt in sweet cloaths; rings put upon his fingers ; A most delicious banquet by his bed, And brave attendants near him when he wakes; Would not the beggar then forget himself? | Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot
# Brach, a hound.
2. Hun. It would seem ftrange unto him when he
wak’d. Lord. Even as a flatt"ring dream, or worthlefs fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest: Carry him gently to my fairelt chamber, And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; Balm his toul head with warm distilled waters, And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet. Procure me mufick ready when he wakes, To make a dulcet and a heav'nly found; And if he chance to speak, be ready straight, And with a low submissive reverence, Say, what is it your honour will command; Let one attend him with a silver bason Full of rose-water, and bestrew'd with flowers. Another bear the ewer ; a third a diaper, And say, wilt please your lordship cool your hands? Some one be ready with a costly suit, And ask him what apparel he will wear; Another tell him of his hounds and horse, And that his Lady mourns at his disease; Perswade him that he hath been lunatick. And when he says he's poor, say that he dreams, For he is nothing but a mighty lord: This do, and do it kindly, gentle Sirs : It will be pastime passing excellent, If it be husbanded with modesty.
1. Hun, My Lord, I warrant you we'll play our part, As he shall think by our true diligence, He is no less than what we say he is.
Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him ; And each one to his office when he wakes.
Sound Trumpets. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds. Belike some noble
gentleman that means, Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
Enter Servant.. How now? who is it?
Ser. Please your honour, players That offer service to your lordship.
Lord. Bid them come near :
Now fellows, you are welcome,
honour. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? 2 Play. So please your lordship to accept our duty..
Lord. With all my heart. This fellow I remembers. Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son; 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well :. I have forgot your name; but lure that part Was aptly
fitted, and naturally perforın d. Sim. I think 'twas Soto that your honour meansa
Lord. 'Tis very true, thou didst it excellent : Well, you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have fome sport in hand, Wherein your cunning can affift me much. There is a lord will hear you play tò-night; But I am doubtful of
modesties, Left over eying of his odd behaviour,
his honour never heard a play,) You break into fome
merry passion, And so offend him for I tell
Sirs, If you should similé, he grows impatient:
Play. Fear not, my lord, we can contain our selves; Were he the verieft antick in the world.
+ 2 Player. (to the other. ] Go get a dishclout to make clean your shoes, and I'll fpeak for the proper
[Exit player. My lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little vinegar to make our deyil roar.
Lord. This speech is added from the old edition.
Lord. Go firrah, take them to the buttery, Let them want nothing that the house affords.
(Exit one with the players, Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And see him drest in all suits like a lady: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, , And call him madam, do him all obeisance, Tell him from me, (as he will win my love) He bear himself with honourable action, Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies Unto their lords, by them accomplished; Such duty to the drunkard let hiin do, With soft low tongue, and lowly courtesie; And say, what is't your honour will command, Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, May shew her duty, and inake known her love? And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses, And with declining head into his bosom, Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restord to health, Who for these seven years hath efteem'd himself No better than a poor and loathsome beggar :: And if the boy have not a woman's gift To rain a shower of commanded tears, . An onion will do well for such a shift, Which in a napkin being close convey d, Shall in despight enforce a wat’ry eye. See this dispatch'd with all the hafte thou canst, Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [Exit Şervant. I know the boy will well ufurp the grace, Voice, gate, and action of a gentlewoman. 1. long to hear him call the drunkard, husband, And how my men will stay themselves from laught When they do homage to this simple peasant; I:H in to counsel them: haply my presence May well abate the over-merry spleen, Which otherwise would go into extreams
Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafon
and ewer, and other appurtenances. Sly. For God's sake a pot of small ale. i Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cap of
sack? 2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these
conserves ? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day?
Sly. I am Christophero Sly, call not me honour, nor lordship : I ne'er drank fack in my life: and if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef : ne'er ask me what raiment l'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet, nay sometimes more feet than shooes, or such shooes as my toes look through the over-leather. Lord, Heav’n cease this idle humour in
honour, Oh thar a mighty man of such defcent, Of such poffeffions, and so high efteem, Should be infused with fo foul a spirit.
Sly. What, would you make me mad? am not I Christophero Sly, old sly's son of Burton-heath, by birth a pedler, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bearherd, and now by, present profession a tinker? ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Winsot, it she know me not; if fhe say I am not fourteen pence on the fcore for fheer ale, score me up for the Tying'ft knave in Christendom. What I am not † bestraught : here's----
i Man. Oh this it is that makes your lady mourn.
Call + bestraught, difracted.