That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, To see her noble lord restored to health, Who, for twice seven years, hath esteemed him See this despatched with all the haste thou canst; I know the boy will well usurp the grace, [Exit Servant. I long to hear him call the drunkard husband; And how my men will stay themselves from laughter, [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Bedchamber in the Lord's House. SLY is discovered in a rich night-gown, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with basin, ewer, and other appurte nances. Enter Lord, dressed like a Servant. Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. 1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? 2 Serv. Will't please your honor taste of these conserves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honor wear to-day? Sly. I am Christophero Sly; call not me-honor, 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 1 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 over-leather. Lord. Heaven cease this idle humor in your honor! Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; by birth a pedler, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bearherd, 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. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Serv. O, this it is that makes your servants droop. Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shun 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. Look how thy servants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have music? Hark! Apollo plays, [Music. Or wilt thou sleep? We'll have thee to a couch, 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: Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, 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 bleeds; And at that sight 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 waning age. 1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed for thee, Like envious floods, o'erran 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 dreamed till now? I do not sleep; I sce, I hear, I speak; I smell sweet savors, and I feel soft things: And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.- 2 Serv. Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands? [Servants present a ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restored! are! O, that once more you knew but what you 1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words.- 3 Serv. Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such maid, Nor no such men as you have reckoned up, As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece, And twenty more such names and men as these, Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it. Enter the Page, as a Lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord? Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? Page. Here, noble lord. What is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me-husband? My men should call me-lord; I am your goodman. Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband. I am your wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well. What must I call her? Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call ladies. Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dreamed and slept Above some fifteen year and more. Page. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me; Being all this time abandoned from your bed. Sly. 'Tis much.-Servants, leave me and her alone. Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Page. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two; Or, if not so, until the sun be set; For your physicians have expressly charged, That I should yet absent me from your bed. I hope this reason stands for my excuse. Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again; I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh and the blood. Enter a Servant. Serv. Your honor's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy, For so your doctors hold it very meet; Seeing too much sadness hath congealed your blood, Therefore they thought it good you hear a play, Sly. Marry, I will; let them play it. Is not a commonty a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff. B Sly. What, household stuff? Page. It is a kind of history. Sly. Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip; we shall ne'er be younger. [They sit down. ACT I. SCENE I. Padua. A public Place. Luc. Tranio, since-for the great desire I had And, by my father's love and leave, am armed Gave me my being, and my father first, Vincentio's son, brought up in Florence, |