SCENE I. Before an ale house on a heath. Enter HOSTESS and SLY. Sly. I'll pheeze you, in faith. Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue! Sly. Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore paucus pallabris; let the world slide: sessa! Host. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? Sly. No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. 10 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. [Falls asleep. Horns winded. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Trash Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd; At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. First Hun. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; He cried upon it at the merest loss And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent: Trust me, I take aim 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 : First Hun. I will, my lord. 20 30 Lord. What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe? Sec. 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! Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers, And brave attendants near him when he wakes, 40 First Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. Sec. Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he waked. 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 : And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Say "What is it your honour will command?" Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers; Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, And say "Will't please your lordship cool your hands? And ask him what apparel he will wear; 50 60 Another tell him of his hounds and horse, This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs: If he be husbanded with modesty. First Hun. My lord, I warrant you we will play our part, As he shall think by our true diligence He is no less than what we say he is. Lord. Take him up gently and to bed with him; And each one to his office when he wakes. 70 [Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds. Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds : [Exit Servingman. Belike, some noble gentleman that means, An't please your honour, players How now! who is it? Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. Players. We thank your honour. Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night? A Player. So please your lordship to accept our duty. 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 perform'd. A Player. I think 'twas Soto that your honour means. Well, you are come to me in happy time; 80 90 A Player. 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. 101 [Exit one with the Players. Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page, "What is't your honour will command, And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses, Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd To see her noble lord restored to health. Who for this seven years hath esteemed him No better than a poor and loathsome beggar: Which in a napkin being close convey'd Shall in despite enforce a watery eye. 110 120 See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst : 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 I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence May well abate the over-merry spleen [Exeunt. SCENE II. A bedchamber in the Lord's house. Enter aloft SLY, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with basin and ewer and other appurtenances; and Lord. Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. First Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? Sec. Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves? Third 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 conserves, give me conserves of beef: ne'er ask ine 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, sometime 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, Of such possessions and so high esteem, 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 card-maker, 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 Third Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn! Sec. Serv. O, this is it that makes your servants droop! Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house, As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth, Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment And banish hence these abject lowly dreams. 30 Look how thy servants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays [Music. And twenty caged nighingales do sing: Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch 40 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, Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them First Serv. Say thou wilt course; thy grey-hounds are as swift As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. 50 |