Re-enter Servant.

How now? who is it?

Ser. An't please your Honour, players
Thas offer service to your Lordship.
Lord. Bid then come near.

Enter Players.
Now, fellows, you are welcome.

Play. We thank your Honour. Lord. Do you intend to ftay with me to-night? 2 Play. So please your Lordship to accept our duty.

Lord. With all my heart. This fellow I remember, Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest fon : 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman fo well : I have forgot your name ; but, sure, that part Was aptly fitted, and natı ally perform’d.

Sim. I think 'twas Soto that your Honour means.

Lord. 'Tis very true; thou didft it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in happy time,
The rather for I have some sport in hand,
Wherein your cunning can aslift me much.
There is a Lord will hear you play to-night ;
But I am doubtful of your modefties,
Left, over-eying of his odd behaviour,
(For yet his Honour never heard a play),
You break into fome merry paflion,
And fo offend him : for I tell you, Sirs,
If you should smile, he grows impatient.

Play. Fear not, my Lord, we can contain ourselves; Were he the veriest antic in the world.

2 Play. [to the other.] Go get a dishclout 10 make clean your shoes, and I'll speak for the properties.

{Èxit Player. My Lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little vinegar to make our devil roar.

Lord. Go, firrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one : Let them want nothing that the house affords.

[Exit one with the players. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And see him dress’d in all suits like a lady.

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That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chambery
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 accomplithed;
Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
With soft low tongue, and lowly courtesy ;
And say, What is 't your Honour will command,
Wherein your lady, and your humble wife,
May Mew her duty, and make 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 restor'd to health,
Who for twice seven years hath esteem'd himself
No better than a poor and lothsome beggar.
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a shower of commanded tcars,
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 haste thou canst ;
Anon I'll give thee nyore instructions. [Exit Servant
I know the boy will well ufurp the grace,
Voice, gate, and action of a gentlewoman.
I long to hear him call the drunkard husband ;
And how my men will stay themselves from laughter,
When they do homage to this simple peasant.
I'll in to counsel them : haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise will go into extremes.

Exit Lora

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and ewer,

Changes to a bedchamber in the Lord's house.
Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafont>

and other appurtenances. Re-enter Lord
Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small'ale. -

1- Serv, Will's please your Lordship drink a cap of Jack

2. Serv. Will't please your Honour taste of these conserves !

3 Serv. What raiment will your Honour wear to-day?

Sly. I am Christopher 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 I'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 shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather.

Lerd. Heav'n cease this idle humour in your Honour ! Oh that a mighty man of such descent, Of such possessions, 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 pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a: tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not; if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the lying'it knave in Christendom. What! I am not beftraught : here's

1 Man. Oh, this, it is that makes your lady mourna 2 Man. Oh, this. it is that makes your servants

droop. Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shun your

house, As beaten hence by your strange. Tunacy. Oh, Noble Lord, bethink thee of thy birth, Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment, ind banish hence these abject lowly dreams. Look how thy fervants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have music? hark, Apollo plays; [Music: Apd twenty caged nightingales do sing, Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch, Softer and fweeter than the lustful bed On purpose trimm’d up for Semiramis. Say thou wilt walk, we will bestrow the ground: Or wilt thou ide? thy horses fall be trappide

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Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Doft thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soat
Above the morning-lark. Or wilt thou hunt ?
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,
And fetch fhrili echoes from the hollow earth.

1 Man. Say thou wilt course, thy greyhounds are as As breathed stags; ay, Aeeter than the roe. [fwift,

2 Man. Doft thou love pictures? we will fetch thee
Adonis, painted by a running brook; (straight
And Cytherea all in sedges hid;
Which seem to move, and wanton with her breath,
Ev'n as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll thew thee Lo, as she was a maid,
And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,
As lively painted as the deed was done.

3 Man. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
Scratching her legs, that one shall swear the bleeds. :
And at that fight shall fad Apollo weep:
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord : Thou hast a Lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waining age.

i Man. And till the tears that she hath shed for thee,
Like envious foods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the faireft creature in the world,
And yet she is inferior to none.

Sly. Am l'a Lord, and have I fuch a Lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now ?
I do not sleep; I see, I hear, I fpeak;
I smell sweet favours, and I feel soft things.
Upon my life, I am a Lord indeed ;
And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.
Well, bring our Lady hither to our sight,
And once again a pot o'th' fmalleft ale.

2 Man. Wilt please your Mightiness to wash your
Oh, how we joy to see your wits reftor'd! [hands?
Oh, that once more you knew but what you are !
These fifteen years you have been in a dream,
Or, when you wak’d, fo wak'd as if you slept.

Sly. These fifteen years ! by my fay, a goodly nap But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle, words.

Sly. Sin

For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say, you were beaten out of door,
And raild upon the hostess of the house;
And say, you would present her at the leet,
Because she bought stone-jugs, and no seald quarts.
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the houfe.

3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor no suche Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd

up; [maid,
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell,
And twenty more such names and men as thefe,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

Sly. Now Lord be thanked for my good amends !
All. Ameni-

Sly. By th? mass, I think I am a Lord indeed.
What is thy name?
Man. Sim, an't please your Honour.

that's as much as to say Simeon or Simon;; put forth thy hand and fill the pot.

[The servant gives him drink. SCENE V. Enter Lady, with attendants.. I thank thee

; thou siialt not lose by it.. Lady. How fares my Noble Lord!

Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where's


wife ? Lady. Here,. Noble Lord, what is thy will with her?

Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband? My men should call me Lord, I am your good-man.

Lady. My husband and my lord, my lord and hur Lam your wife in all obedience.

[band ;; Sly. I know it well. what muft I call her. Lord. Madam. Sly, Ice Madam, .or Joan Madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else; fo Lords call Ladies; .

Sly. Come, sit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her.. Madam wife, they fay that I have dream'd, and flepte above fome fifteen years and more.

Lady. 'Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
Being all this time abandon'd from.

'Tis muchi. Servants, leave me and her. alope


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