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Hoft. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

31v. No, not a deniere: go by, Jeronimo * go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

hoji. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third borough.

Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him by law; I'll not budge an inch, boy ; let him come, and kindly.

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Ilind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with a train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my

hounds : Leech Merriman, the poor cur is imbost; And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd Brach. Sizw'it thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge-corner in the coldelt fault ? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

Hun. Why, Eelinan is as good as he, my Lord;
He cried upon it at the meereit loss,
And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent :
Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet,
I would estcem hini worth a dozen fuch.
But fup them well, and look unto them all,
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

Hun. I will, my Lord.
Lurid. What's here? one dead or drunk? See, dotk

he breathe 2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warm'd

with ale, This were a bed but cold to sleep fo foundly.

Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies ! Grim death, how foul and lothsome is thy image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

* Goly, Jercrino, was a kind of by-word in the author's days, as appears by its being used in the fame manner by Ben Johnson, Beau. mont, and Fletcher, and other writers near that time. It arose first from a pailuje in an old play called Heircrymo, or, Tbe Spanish tragedy.

Wrapp'd

Wrapp'd in sweet cloaths; rings put upon his fingers;
A moft delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes ;
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

I Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chufc. 2 Hun. It would seem ftrange unto him when he

wak'd.. Lord. Even as a flåttring dream, or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jes: Carry him gently to my fairelt chamber, And lang it round with all my wanton pictures ; Balm his foul head with warm distilled waters, And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet, Procure me music 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 submiilive 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 Lordhip cool your hands Some onę be ready with a costly fuit, And ask him what apparel he will rer; Another tell him of his hounds and horle, And that his lady mourns at his difcate; Persuade him that he hath been lunatic. And when he says he is, ----fly that he circards; For he is nothing but a mighty Lord. This do, and do it kindly, gentle Sirs: It will be pastime pasling excellent, If it be husbanded with modelty.

i Hun. My Lord, I warrant you, we'll play our parts As he shall think, by our true diligence, He is no less than what we say he is.

Lørd. Take him up gently, and to bed with hin; And each one to his office when he wakes. [Some bear out Siy.

Sound trumfeis. Sirrah, go see what trumpet is that sounds, Belike, fome noble gentleman that means, [Ex.fervant. Travelling fome journey, to repose him here.

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SCENE 11. Re-exter servant. How now? who is it?

Ser. An't please your Honour, players That offer service to your Lord thip. Lord, Bid them come near.

Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. Play. We thank your

Honour. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? 3 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, fure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd.

Sim. I think 'twas Soto that your Honour means. Lord. 'Tis very true; thou didit it excellent. Well, you are come to me in happy time; The rather for I have some fport in hand, Wherein your cunning can assist 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 pallion, And fo offend him : for I tell you, Sirs, If you should fimile, 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 to make clean your shoes, and I'll speak for the properties.

[Exit 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 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 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 fhew her duty, and make known her love ?
And then with kind embracements, tempting kifes,
And with declining head into his bofom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
To see her Noble Lord restor’d to health,
Who for twice feven 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 tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift;
Which in a hapkin being close convey'd, yn ist.1 911";
Shrall in despight enforce a wat’ry eye. "
See this difpatch'd with all the halte thoulcanft; }
Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [Exit Serkant.
I know the boy will well usurp 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 laugliter,
When they do homage to this simple peasant. .138
I'll in to counsel them: haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry {pleen,
Which otherwise will go into extremes.

[Exit Lord.

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S CE N E IV. Changes to a bedchamber in the Lord's house. Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafon, and ewer, and other appurtenances

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

3 Sero. Will't please your Lordthip drink a cup of fack ?

2 Sero,

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2 Serv, Will't please your Honour tafte of these conferves ?

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

Sly. I ain 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 aik 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.

Lord. Heav'n cease this idle humour in your Honour! Oh that a mighty man of such descent, Of such pofleffions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a fpirit !

Sly. What, would you make me inad? Am not I Christophero Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-marker, 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 fcore for sheer ale, score me up for the lying's knave in Christendom. What! I am not bestraught : here's--

1 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 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 lunacy.
Oh, Noble Lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banisnment,
And banish hence these abjea lowly dreams.
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have mufic? hark, Apollo plays; [Mufic.
And twenty caged nightingales do fing.
Or wilt thou sleep, we'll have thee to a co

couch,
Softer and sweeter than the luitful bed
On purpose triinm’d up for Semiramis.
Say thou wilt walk, we will bearow the ground:
Or wilt thou ride ? thy horses shall be trapp'd,

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