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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 asleep.

SCENE II.

Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting with a Train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee tender well my hounds,

Brach Merriman, the poor cur is imboft;

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 lofe the dog for twenty pound.

Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the meereft lofs,

And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
Truft me, I take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou art a fool; if Eccho were as fleet,

I would efteem him worth a dozen fuch.
But fup them well, and look unto them all,
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

Hun. I will, my Lord.

Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? fee doth he breathe?

2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,

This were a bed but cold, to fleep fo foundly.

Lord. O monftrous beaft! how like a fwine he lies! Grim death, how foul and loathfome is thine image! Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man,

What think you if he were convey'd to bed,
Wrapt in fweet 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?

1 Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chufe.

† Brach, a hound.

2 Hun. It would feem ftrange unto him when he wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flatt'ring dream, or worthlefs fancy.
Then take him up, and manage well the jeft:
Carry him gently to my faireft chamber,

And hang it round with all my wanton pictures;
Balm his foul head with warm diftilled waters,
And burn fweet wood to make the lodging fweet.
Procure me mufick ready when he wakes,
To make a dulcet and a heav'nly found;
And if he chance to fpeak, be ready straight,
And with a low fubmiffive reverence,
Say, what is it your honour will command;
Let one attend him with a filver bafon
Full of rofe-water, and beftrew'd with flowers.
Another bear the ewer; a third a diaper,
And fay, wilt pleafe your lordship cool your hands?
Some one be ready with a coftly fuit,
And ask him what apparel he will wear;
Another tell him of his hounds and horfe,
And that his Lady mourns at his disease;
Perfwade him that he hath been lunatick.
And when he fays he's poor, fay that he dreams,
For he is nothing but a mighty lord:
This do, and do it kindly, gentle Sirs:
It will be paftime paffing excellent,

If it be husbanded with modefty.

1 Hun. My Lord, I warrant you we'll play our part, As he fhall think by our true diligence,

He is no lefs than what we fay he is.

Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him; And each one to his office when he wakes.

[Sound Trumpets. Sirrah, go fee what trumpet 'tis that founds. Belike fome noble gentleman that means, Travelling fome journey, to repofe him here.

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Now fellows, you are welcome,
Play. We thank your honour.

Lord. Do you intend to ftay with me to-night?
2 Play. So pleafe 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 fo well :
I have forgot your name; but fure that part
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 fome fport in hand,
Wherein your cunning can affift me much.
There is a lord will hear you play to-night;
But I am doubtful of your modefties,
Left over eying of his odd behaviour,
(For yet his honour never heard a play,)
You break into fome merry paffion,
And fo offend him for I tell

you, Sirs, If you fhould fimilé, he grows impatient.

Play. Fear not, my lord, we can contain our felves; Were he the verieft antick in the world.

† 2 Player. [to the other.] Go get a difhclout to make clean your fhoes, and I'll fpeak for the properties. [Exit player. My lord, we must have a fhoulder of mutton for a property, and a little vinegar to make our devil roar.

t This Speech is added from the old edition.

Lord..

Lord. Go firrah, take them to the buttery, Let them want nothing that the house affords.

[Exit one with the players. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And fee him dreft in all fuits like a lady:

That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
And call him madam, do him all obeisance.
Tell him from me, (as he will win my love)
He bear himself with honourable action,
Such as he hath obferv'd in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplished;
Such duty to the drunkard let him do,
With foft low tongue, and lowly courtefie;
And fay, what is't your honour will command,
Wherein your lady, and your humble wife,
May fhew her duty, and inake known her love?
And then with kind embracements, tempting kiffes,
And with declining head into his bofom,
Bid him fhed tears, as being overjoy'd
To fee her noble lord reftor'd to health,
Who for thefe feven years hath efteem'd himself
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar::
And if the boy have not a woman's gift
To rain a fhower of commanded tears,
An onion will do well for fuch a shift,
Which in a napkin being clofe convey d,
Shall in defpight enforce a wat'ry eye.
See this difpatch'd with all the hafte thou canft,
Anon I'll give thee more inftructions. [Exit Servant.
I.know the boy will well ufurp the grace,
Voice, gate, and action of a gentlewoman.
I long to hear him call the drunkard, husband,
And how my men will stay themselves from laught
When they do homage to this fimple peafant;
IH in to counfel them: haply my prefence
May well abate the over-merry fpleen,
Which otherwife would go into extreams'

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SCENE IV.

Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafon and ewer, and other appurtenances.

Sly. For God's fake a pot of fmall ale.

1 Serv. Will't please your lordfhip drink a cup of fack?

2 Serv. Will't please your honour tafte of these conferves?

3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear to-day? Sly. I am Chriftophero Sly, call not me honour, nor lordship: I ne'er drank fack in my life and if you give me any conferves, give me conferves of beef: ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more ftockings than legs, nor no more fhoes than feet, nay fometimes more feet than fhooes, or fuch fhooes as my toes look through the over-leather.

Lord. Heav'n cease this idle humour in your honour. Oh that a mighty man of fuch defcent, Of fuch poffeffions, and fo high esteem, Should be infufed with fo foul a fpirit.

Sly. What, would you make me mad? am not I Chriftophero Sly, old Sly's fon of Burton-heath, by birth a pedler, by education a card-maker, by tranfmutation a bearherd, and now by prefent profeffion a tinker? ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if the know me not; if the fay I am not fourteen pence on the fcore for fheer ale, fcore me up for the lying'ft knave in Chriftendom. What I am not † beftraught: here's----

1 Man. Oh this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Man. Oh this it is that makes your fervants droop. Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred fhun your houfe,

As beaten hence by your ftrange lunacy.

Oh noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,

beftraught, diftracted.

7

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