And if he chance to speak, be ready straight, And ask him what apparel he will wear; It will be pastime passing excellent, 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. [Some bear out SLY. A trumpet sounds. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds : [Exit Servant. Belike, some noble gentleman: that means, Re-enter a Servant. How now? who is it? An it please your honour, Players that offer service to your lordship. g Lord. Bid them come near: Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. 1 Play. We thank your honour. says he is,] Dr. Johnson thinks we should read, and when he says kindly,] i. e. Naturally. modesty.] By modesty is meant moderation, without suffering our mer riment to break into an excess. JOHNSON. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son ;- 1 Play. 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; 1 Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antick in the world. Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery. And give them friendly welcome every one : Let them want nothing that my house affords. [Exeunt Servant and Players. [To a Servant. Sirrah, go you to Batholomew my page, And call him-madam, do him obeisance. Tell him from me, (as he will win my love,) And say,-What is't your honour will command, k to accept aur duty.] It was in those times the custom of players to travel in companies, and offer their service at great houses. --JOHNSON. 1 Soto-] There is a character so called in the Woman pleased by Beaumont and Fletcher, who is as described a farmer's eldest son, but he does not woo any gentlewoman. Tyrwhiтт. Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, 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 this seven years, hath esteem'd him To rain a shower of commanded tears, [Exit Servant. I know, the boy will well usurp the grace, SCENE II. A Bedchamber in the Lord's House. [Exeunt. Sly is discovered in a rich night-gown, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with bason, ewer, and other appurtenances. Enter Lord dressed like a Servant. Sly. For God's sake a pot of small ale. 1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? 2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these con serves ? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me honour, nor lordship: I never drank sack 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 overleather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour! O, 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 Christopher 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 lyingest knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught: Heres—— 1 Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Serv. O, 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. Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment, Look how thy servants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have musick? hark! Apollo plays. [Musick. And twenty caged nightingales do sing : Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch, On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. Say, thou wilt walk : we will bestrew the ground: m of Burton-heath: Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot.] I suspect we should read-Barton-heath. Barton and Woodmancot, or, as it is vulgarly pronounced, Woncot, are both of them in Gloucestershire, near the residence of Shakspeare's old enemy, Justice Shallow. Very probably too, this fat ale-wife might be a real character. - STEEVENS. n I am not bestraught;] Bestraught seems to have been synonymous to distraught or distracted. - MALONE. Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar 1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. [swift 2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee Adonis, painted by a running brook : And Cytherea all in sedges hid; [straight Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid ; And how she was beguiled and surpris'd, 3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood; Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord: Thou hast a lady far more beautiful 1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed for thee, Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? [Servants present an ewer, bason, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd! |