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Belike, some noble gentleman; that means,
Re-enter a Servant.
Ser. An it please your Honour,
1 Play. We thank your Honour.
member, Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son; 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well: I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally, performa.
1 Play. I think, 'twas Soto that your Honour means, Lord. 'Tis very true;
thou didst it excellenti Well, you are come io 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. s Play. Fear not, my Lord; we can contain our
selves, TVere he the veriest antick in the world,
Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendl 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 dress'd in all suits like a la ly: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, And call him Madam, do him 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, isy 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 show 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 esteemed him No better than a poor and loathsome 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 despite enforce a wairy eye. See this despatch'd with all the haste thou can'st; Anon I'll give thee more instructions.
[Exit Seryant. I know, the boy will well usurp the grace, Voice, gait, 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'H in to counsel them: haply, my presence
.. May well abate the over-merry spleen, Which otherwise would grow into extremes.
(Exeunt. scene i.
A. Bedchamber in the Lord's House, 9LY is discovered in a rich night gown, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with bason, ewer, and other appurtenances. Enter
Lord, dress'd like a servant.
Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale.
1 Serù. Willie please your Lordship drink a cup of sack?
2 Serv. Will't please your Honour taste of these conseryes?
3 Serv. What raiment will your Honour Wear to-day?
Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me- -Honour, nor Lordship: I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conseryes, give me conserves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment l'll wear; for I have no more doublets than vacks, 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
Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not 1 Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by trans: 1 mutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the far 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 bestraught: Here's
2 Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.
as 'swift As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the 'roe. 2 Seru. Dost thou love pictures ? we will fetch
thee straight Adonis, painted by a running brook; And Cytherea all in sedges hid;
Which seem to move and wanton with her breathe
Lord. We'll show thee 10, as she was a maid;
Lord. Thou are a lord, and not ing but a lord:
Sly. Am I a lord ? and have I such a lady?
Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time?
i Serv. O, yes, my Lord; but very idle words: