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H.. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a deniere: go by, Jeronimo *

-go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

Hoft. 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.

[Falls ajleep.

S C Ε Ν Ε ΙΙ.

l'ind 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. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge-corner in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my Lord; He cried

upon it at the meerelt lofs,
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 esteem hin worth a dozen such.
But fup them well, and look unto them all,
'i'o-morrow I intend to hunt again.

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

he breathe? 2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warmd

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 lothsome is thy image!, Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

Go by, Feronimo, was a kind of by-word in the author's days, as appears by its being used in the lame manner by Ben Johnson, Beau. mont, and Fletcher, anú other writers near that time. Ji arose farft from a palage in an old play called Heircaymo, or, Tbe Spanish traged.

Wrapp'd

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Wrapp'd 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?
TI Hun. Believe

me,

Lord, I think he cannot chuse,
1 2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he

wak'd.
Lord. Even as a Åatt’ring dream, or worthless fancy.
Then take him up, and manage well the jelt:
Carry him gently to my fairelt chamber,
And hang 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 submissive reverence
Say, what is it your Honour will command ?
Let one attend him with a silver bafon
Full of rose-water, and bestrewd 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 fuit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
And that his lady mourns at his disease

e ;
Persuade him that he hath been lunatic.
And when he says he is, --say that he dreams;
For he is nothing but a mighty Lord.
This do, and do it kindly, gentle Şirs :
It will be pastime pafling excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty.

i 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.

[Some bear out Sly. Sound trumpets.
Sirrah, go see what trumpet is that sounds.
Relike, fome noble gentleman that means, [Ex.fervant.
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

0 0 2

SCENE

7 SCENE III. Re-enter fervant. How now? who is it?

Ser. An't please your Honour, players That offer fervice to your Lordship. 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? 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 so well: ! I have forgot your name; but, fure, that irt Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform d.

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

Lord. 'Tis very true; thou didst it excellent.
Well, you are come to me in happy time,
The rather for I have some sport 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 modesties,
Leit, over-cying of his odd behaviour,
(For yet his Honour never heard a play),
You bre:k into fome merry passion,
And so offend him : for I tell you, Sirs,
If you should finile, 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 thoes, 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.

That

That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
And call him Madam, do him all obeisance.
Teil 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, w"
Wherein your lady, and your humble wife,
May shew her duty, and make known her love?
And then with kind embracements, tempting kiffes,
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 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 tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift;
Which in a napkin being close convey'd,
Shall in deipight enforce a wat'ry eye.
See this dispatch'd with all the hasłe thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions. [Exit Servante
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 pay themselves from laughter,
TVhen 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 Lord.

SC E N E IV. Changes to a bedchamber in the Lord's house. Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafon, ani

ener, and other appartenances. Re-enter Lord. Sly. For God's fake, a pot of small ale.

i Sere. Will't please your Lordfhip drink a cup of fack?

2 Serv.

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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 conferves, give me conserves of beef : ne'er alk 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 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 possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit !

Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christophero Sly, old Sly's fon of Burton-heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-marker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profeffion 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'st knave in Christendom. What! I am not hestraught : 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 abject lowly dreams.
Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
Each in his office ready at thy beck.
Wilt thou have music? hark, Apollo plays ; [Music.
And twenty caged nightingales do fing.
Or wilt thou sleep' we'll have thee to a couch,
Softer and sweeter than the lulful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Senirainis.
Say thou wilt walk, we will beitrow the ground:
Or wilt thou ride ? thy horses shall be trapp'd,

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