hands?

Enter HOSTESS and SLY.

Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith.

Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue !

Sly. Y'are a baggage; the Slies 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. T

[Erit. 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 my hounds: Brach Merriman, -the poor cur is emboss'd,++ 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.

1 Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my He cried upon it at the merest loss, [lord; 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 him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto them all;
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

1 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 warm'd with ale,

This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly. Lord. O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies! [image! Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

Will't please your lordship cool your

1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we'll play

means.

fingers,

A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.

Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage well the jest:Carry him gently to my fairest 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

Well, you are come to me in happy time;

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 1 tell you, Sirs,
If you should smile, be grows impatient.

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. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, [To a SERVANT.

And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady: That done, conduct him to the drunkard's cham

ber,

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, 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 com-
mand,

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 bave not a woman's gift,
To rain a shower of cominanded tears,
An onion will do well for such a shift;
Which in a napkin being close convey'd,
Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
See this despatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions.

[Exit SERVANT.

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'll in to counsel them haply my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

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

Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not mehonour, 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 !

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 Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton beath; by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, 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: Here's--

1 Serv. Oh! this it is, that makes your lady

On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say, thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will

soar

Above the morning lark: Or wilt thou hunt ? Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.

1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift

As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe.

2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight

Adonis, painted by a running brook:
And Cytherea all in sedges hid;
[breath,
Which seem to move and wanton with her
Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll show thee lo, as she was a maid;
And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,
As lively painted as the deed was done.

3 Serv. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood; Scratching her legs that one shall swear she And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

bleeds:

Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord: Thou hast a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waning age.

1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed

for thee,

Like envious floods, o'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none.

Sly. Am I a lord ? and have I such a lady f
Or do I dream ? or have I dream'd till now ?
I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things :-
Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed;
And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.-
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.

2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash

your bands ?

[SERVANTS present an ewer, basin, and napkin.

Oh! how we joy to see your wit restor'd! Oh! that once more you knew but what you are !

These fifteen years you have been in a dream; Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept. Sly. These fifteen years, by my fay, a goodly nap.

But did I never speak of all that time?

1 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; And say, you would present her at the leet,f Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:

Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket. Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

3 Serv. Why, Sir, you know no house, nor
no such maid;

Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up,-
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!