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There is a Lord will hear you play to-night;
But I am doubtful of your modesties,
Left, over-eying of his odd Behaviour,
(For yet his honour never heard a Play)
You break into some merry Pasiion,
And so offend him ; for I tell you, Sirs,
If you should sinile, he grows impatient.

Play. Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves;
Were he the veriest antick in the world.
2 Play. [to the other.) Go get a Dishclout to make
clean your shoes; and I'll speak for the properties :.

(Exit Player. My lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little Vinegar to make our devil roar,

Lord. Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome, every one: Let them want nothing that the house affords.

[Exit one with the Players, Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And see him drest in all suits 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,

Property, in the language of And the Passion being that, of a play-house, is every implement all the myfieries, which was most neceffary to the exhibition.

frequently represented, vinegar 9 A little Vinegar to make our became at length the fanding devil roar.) When the acting the implement to torment the Demysteries of the old and new tes- vil: And used for this purpose tament was in vogue ; at the re- even after the mysteries ccased, presentation of the mystery of the and the moralities came in vogue; Passion, Judas and the Devil where the Devil continued to made a part. And the Devil, have a considerable part. wherever he came, was always The mention of it here was to to suffer some disgrace, to make ridicule fo absurd a circumstance the people laugh: As here, the in these old farces. buffoonery was to apply the gall

WARBURTON. and vinegar to make him roar.


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Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies
Unto their lords, by them accomplish'd;
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 shew 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 over-joy'd
To see her noble lord restor’d to health,
Who for twice seven years hath esteem'd himself
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 despight enforce a wat’ry eye.
See this dispatch'd, with all the hafte thou canst ;
Anon l'll give thee more inftructions. [Exit Servant,
I know the boy will well usurp 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 for 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 will go into extreams. [Exit Loril.

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In former editions, Poet design'd, the Tinker's supWho for these seven Years bath pos'd Lunacy should be of four- . effeem'd himfelf

teen Years standing at least, is No better than a poor and loath- evident upon two parallel Paffa. some Beggar.)

ges in the Play to that Purpose. I have ventur'd to alter a Word

THEOBALD. here, against the Authority of It is not unlikely that the the printed Copies; and hope, onion was an expedient used by I fall be justified in it by two the actors of interludes. subsequent Passages. That the


Changes to a Bedchamber in the Lord's House.


Enter Sly with Attendants, fome with apparel, bason and

ewer, and other appurtenances. Re-enter Lord. Sly. OR God's fake, a pot of small ale.

i Serv. Wilt please your Lordship drink

a cup of lack? 2 Serv. Will't please your Honour taste of these

Conserves ? 3 Serv. What raiment will your Honour wear to

day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly, call not me Honour, nor Lordship: 1 ne'er drank lack in my life: and if you give me any Conserves, give me Conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment l'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more Thoes than feet ; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes ; cr such shoes as my tocs look through the over-leather. Lord. Heav'n cease this idle humour in


Ho nour ! Oh, that a mighty man of such descent, Of such poffeffions, and so high esteem, Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

Sly. What would you make me mad ? am not I Christophero Sly, old Sly's Son of Burton-beath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bearherd, and now by present poffeffion a tinker? afk 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 lying'st knave in Christendom. What, I am not bestraught: here's

1 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Mar. Oh, this it is that makes your servants

Lord. Hence comes it, that your kindred shun your

As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
Oh, noble Lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
Ard banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
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,
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say, thou wilt walk, we will bestrow 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 foar
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 Man. Say, thou wilt course, thy greyhounds are

as swift
As breathed stags ; ay, Peeter than the roe.
2 Man. Dost thou love pictures ? we will fetch thee

Adonis, painted by a running brook ;
And Citherea all in sedges hid;
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Ev'n as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll shew chee To, as she was a maid,
And how she was beguiled and surpris’d,
As lively painted as the deed was done.
3 Man. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny

Scratching her legs, that one fhall swear the bleeds :


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And at that light shall sad Apollo weep:
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord :
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
Than any woman in this waining age.
i Man. And 'till the tears, that the hath shed for

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?
Or do I dream? or have I dreamt 'till now?
I do not neep; I fee, 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 light,
And once again, a pot o'th' smallest ale,
2 Men. Wilt please your Mightiness to walh your

hands? Oh, how we joy to see your wits 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 slepr.

Sly. These fifteen years ! by my fay, a goodly nap: But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of door, And raild upon the Hostess of the house; And say, you would present her at the * Leet, Because she bought stone-jugs, and not seal'd quarts; Sometimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house. 3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no house ; nor no such

maid; Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up;

Leer,] At the Court leet, or courts of the manor.

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