Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slys are no rogues: look in the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabris; let the world slide. Sessa! Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier: go by, says Jeronimy ;go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Host. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the thirdborough. [Exit. 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. [Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Wind horns. Enter a Lord, from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well Brach Merriman,-the poor cur is embossed; 1st Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my He cried upon it at the merest loss, Lord. Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet, Lord. What's here: one dead, or drunk? See, 2nd Hun. He breathes, my lord: were he not This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. lies! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man. What think you, if he were conveyed to bed, Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, A most delicious banquet by his bed, 1st Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot 2nd Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he waked. Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless Then take him up, and manage well the jest: "Wilt please your lordship cool your Some one be ready with a costly suit, 1st Hun. My lord, I warrant you we'll play 1st Play. We thank your honour. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? 2nd Play. So please your lordship to accept our duty. Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remember, Since once he played a farmer's eldest son;- 1st Play. I think 't was 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; Lest, over-eying of his odd behaviour (For yet his honour never heard a play), You break into some merry passion, And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient. 1st Play. Fear not, my lord; we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest antic 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. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, [To a Servant. And see him dressed in all suits like a lady: And with declining head into his bosom, 3rd 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, Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath; by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now And twenty cagéd nightingales do sing: As breathéd stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. Adonis, painted by a running brook; Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Lord. We'll shew thee Io, as she was a maid; And how she was beguiled and surprised, As lively painted as the deed was done. 3rd Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood! Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: 1st Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed Like envious floods, o'erran her lovely face, Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady? [Servants present an ewer, bason, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restored! O, that once more you knew but what you are! These fifteen years you have been in a dream; Or, when you waked, so waked as if you slept. Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time? 1st Serv. O yes, my lord; but very idle words: For though you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of door; And rail upon the hostess of the house; Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. Serv. Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid; Nor no such men as you have reckoned up: Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a Lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord? Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? Page. Here, noble lord; what is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me 66 "husband?" My men should call me "lord;" I am your good man. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband; I am your wife in all obedience; Sly. I know it well.-What must I call her? Lord. Madam. Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies. Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dreamed and slept Above some fifteen year and more. Page. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandoned from your bed. Sly. "Tis much.-Servants, leave me and her alone. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Page. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two; Or if not so, until the sun be set: For your physicians have expressly charged, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed: I hope this reason stands for my excuse. Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again; I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Servant. Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, |