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The lioness had torn some flesh away,

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,

And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.

Brief.] recovcr'd him, bound up his wound;

And, after some small space, being strong at heart,

He sent tnc hither, stranger as I am,

To tell this story, that you might excuse

His broken promise, and to give this napkin,

Dyud in his blood, unto the shepherd youth

That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

Cel. | Rosalind sii-oons. J Why, how now, Ganymedfe sweet Ganymede!

Oli. Many will swoon when they do look on blood.

Cel. There is more in it.—Cousin!—Ganymede!

Oli. Look, he recovers.

Ros. I would 1 were at home.

Cel. Well lead you thither.

I pray you, will you take him by the arm!

Oil. Be of good cheer, youth:—you a man? You A man's heart. [lack

Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would think this was well counterfeited: 1 pray you, tell your brother how well I counterfeited.—Heigh ho !—

Oli. This was not counterfeit: there is too great testimony in your complexion, that it was a passion of

Ros. Counterfeit. 1 assure you. [earnest.

Oli. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man. [woman by right.

Ros. So 1 do: but, i' faith, I should have been a

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler: pray you draw honie^'ards.—Goon sir, go with u^..

Oli. That will 1, for 1 must bear answer back How you excuse my brother. Rosalind.

Ros. I shall devise something. But, I pray you commend my counterfeiting to huu :—will you go*

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.—The Forest.
Enter Touchstone and Audrey.

Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.

And. 'Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman's saying.

Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Mar-text. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest lays claim to you.

And. Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me in the world: here comes the man you mean.

Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown by my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Knter William.

Will. Good even, Audrey.

And. God ye good even, William.

Will. And good even to you, sir.

Touch. Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be covered. How old

If'ill. Vive and twenty, sir. [are you, friend 1

Touch. A ripe age. Is thy name William?

Will. William, sir.

Touch. A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here?
Will. Ay. sir. I thank God.
Touch. Thank God ;—a good answer. Art rich?
Will. 'Faith, sir, so so.

Touch. So so, is good, very good, very exce 1 nl good:—and yet it is not; it is out so so. Art t.iou

H ill. Ay. sir, I have a pretty wit. [wise'

Touch. Why, thou sayestwell. I do now remember a saying,— "The fool doth think he is wise; but the wise man knows himself to be a fool." The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a gripe, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth: meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and Hps to open. You do love this maid?

//-";//. I do, sir.

Touch. Give me your hand. Art thou learned?
Will. No, sir.

Touc h. Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it is a figure in rhetoric, that drink, being poured out of n cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other; for all your writers d» consent that ipse is 1"-C: now, you are not ipse, tor I am he.

Will. Which he, sir?

Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman.

Therefore, you clown, abandon,—which is in the vitlyar, leave,—the society,-1which in the boori-li is, company,—of this female,—which in the comn on is, woman; which together is, abandon the sou. ty of this female, or, clown, thou perishest; or, to thy b-vter understanding, diest; or, to wit, 1 kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: therefore tremble, and depart. Aud. Do, good William.

Will. God rest you merry, sir. [Exit. Enter Corin.

Cor. Our master and mistress seek you; come, away, away 1

Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey.—I attend, I attend. \Exeunt. SCENE II.—The Forest. Enter Orlando and Oliver.

Orl. Is *t possible, that on so little acquaintance you should like her / that, but seeing, you should love her? and, loving, woo? and. wooing, she should grant? and will you persever to enjoy her?

Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, I love Aliens; say with her, that she loves me; consent with both, that we may enjoy each other: it shall be to your good ; for my father's house and all the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's, will I estate upon

you, and here live and die a shepherd.

Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: thither will I invite the duke, and all his contented followers. Go you and prepare Alicnaj for, look you, here conies my Rosalind.

Enter Rosalind. Ros. God save you, brother.

Oli. And you, fair sister. , [Exit.

Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf 1 Orl. It is my arm.

Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.

Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to swoon, when he showed me your handkerchief!

Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that.

Ros. Oh, I know where you are:—nay. 'tis true: there was never any thing so sudden, but the fight of two rams, and Caesar's thrasonical brag of—" I came, saw, and overcame :" for your brother and my sister no sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, but they loved: no sooner loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy: and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent before marriage: they are in the very wrath of love, and they will together ; clubs cannot part them.

Orl. They shall be married to-morrow; and I will bid the duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a, thing it is to look int i happiness through another man s eyes! By so n.uch the more shall 1 to-morrow l>e at the height of hcart-heaviness, by how much I shall think my orother happy in having what he wishes for. [for Rosalind?

Ros. Why then, to-inorrow I cannot serve your turn

Orl. I can live no longer by thinking.

Ros. I will weary you. then, no longer with idle talking. Know of me, then, (for now I speak to some purpose,) that 1 know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I speak not this, that you should bear a good opinion of my knowledge, insomuch 1 say I know you are; neither do I labour for a greater esteem than nay in some little measure draw a belief from you, to k> yourself good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I can do' strange things: I have, since I was three years old, conversed with a magician, most profound in his art, and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your brother marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you, to set her before your eyes to-morrow, human as she is, and without any danger.

Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings?

Ros. By my life. I do; which I tender dearly, though I say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your best array, bid your friends; for if you will be married to-morrow, you shall; and to Rosalind, if you wilt.—Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers.

Enter S\\\'ms aud Phebe.

Pits. Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, To show the letter that I writ to you.

Ros. I care not, if I have : it is my study
To seem despiteful and ungentle to you:
You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd;
I»nok upon him, love him; he worships you.

Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.

Sil. It is to he all made of sighs and tears ;— And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganymede.

Orl. And I for Rosalind.

Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service ;— And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganymede.

Orl. And I for Rosalind.

Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy.
AH made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and observance;
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience;
All purity, all trial, all observance;
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And so am I for Ganymede.

Orl. And so am I for Rosalind.

Ros. And so am I for no woman.

Phe. J To Rosalind.] If thit be so, why blame you ine to love you?

Sil. [ To Phebe.] If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

Roe. Whom do you speak to,—"why blame you me to love you?"

Orl. To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear.

Ros. Prayyou.no more of this: 'tis like the howling of Irish woives against the moon.—[To Silvius. 1 I will help you if I can :—[ To Phebe.] I would love you, if I could.—To-morrow meet me all together.—f To Phebe.] I will marry you, if ever I marry a woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:—[7oOrlando.] I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow :—[ To Silvius.] I will content you, if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow.—| To Orlando.] As you love Rosalind, meet:—f To Silvius.] As you love Phebe, meet: ami as 1 love no woman, I'll meet.—So, fare you well: I have left you commands.

Sil. I'll not fail, if I live.

Phe. Nor I.

Orl. Nor I.

{Exeunt.

SCENE \\\.—Another part of the Forest. F.nter Touchstone and Audrey. Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; tomorrow will we be married.

Aud. I do desire it with all my heart; and I Itope it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of the world. Here come two of the banished duke's pages. Enter two Pages.

1 Page. Well met, honest gentleman.

Touch. By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song.

2 Page. We are for you : sit i' the middle.

1 Page. Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking, or spitting, or saying we are hoarse, which are the only prologues to a bad voice?

2 Page. V faith, i" faith; and both in a tune, like two gypsies on a horse.

SONG.

It toas a lover and his lass.

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino. That o'er the green corn-field did pass

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time. When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres 0/the rye.

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,

In the spring time, &c.
This carol they began that hour,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino.
How that a life was but a flower

In tiie spring time, &c.
A ud titer, fore take the present time.

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino;
For love is crowned with tlte prime,

In the spring time, &c. Touch. Truly, young gentleman, though there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.

1 Page. You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we tost not our time.

Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God meud your voices I—Come, Audrey. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.—Another part of the Forest.

Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, Oliver, and Ceha. Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy Can do all this that he hath promised? [not;

Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. Enter Rosalind, Silvius. aud Phebe. Ros, Patience once more, whiles our compact is

urg'd :

[ To the Duke. ] You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, Vim will bestow her on Orlando here? Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.

Ros. [ To Orlando. 1 And you say, you will have her

when I bring her? Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. Ros. J To Phebe. | You say, you'll marry me, if I be

willing?

Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. Ros. But if you do refuse to marry me, You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? Phe. So is the bargain.

Ros. [ To Silvius. ] You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will!

Sil Though to have her and death were both one

thing.

Ros. I have promis'd to make all this matter even. Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter;— You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter :— Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me. Or else, refusing me. towed this shepherd :— Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll many her, If she refuse me:—and from hence I go, To wake these doubts all even.

\Exeunt Rosalind and Celia.

Duke S. I do remember in this shepherd boy
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.

Orl. My lord, the first time that I ever law him,
Metliou^ht he was a brother to your daughter:
But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born.
And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments
of many desperate studies by his uncle,
Whom he reports to be a great magician,
Oliscured in the circle of tnis forest.

Jaq. There is, sure, another flood toward, and these couples are coming to the ark.—[Enter Touchstone and Audrey.j^llere comes a pair of very strango beasts, which in all tongues are called foi Is

Touch. Salutation and greeting to you ail!

Jaq. Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the motley-minded gentleman, that I have so often met in the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears.

Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure: I have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.

Jaq. And how was that ta'en up?

Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.

faq. How seventh cause?—Good my lord, like this fellow.

Duke S. 1 like him very well.

Toucft, God "fld you, sir; I desire you of the like. I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country copulatives, to swear, and to forswear; according as marriage binds and blood breaks:—a poor virgin, sir, an iil-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house, at, your pearl in your foul oyster. [tious.

Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and senten

Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases.

Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?

Touch, Upon a lie seven times removed: — bear your body more seeming, Audrey:—as thus, sir. 1 did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, if 1 said his beard was not cut welt, he was in the mind it was: this is called the Retort courteous, if 1 sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: this is called the Quip modest. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: tins is called the Reply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, 1 spake not true: this is called the Reproof valiant ; if again, it was not well cut,he would say, 1 lie : this is called the Countercheck quarrelsome: and so to the Lie circumstantial, and the Lie direct.

Jaq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not Weil cut I

Touch. I durst go no farther than the Lie circumstantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie direct; and so we measured swords, and parted.

Jag. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?

Touch. O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort courteous; the second, the Quip modest; the third, the Reply churlish; the fourth, the Reproof valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck quarrebjeme; the sixth, the Lie with circumstance; the se\«nth, the Lie direct. All these you may avoid, but the Lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an "if." I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an "if," as " If you said so, then I said so ;" and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your "if" is the only peace-maker; much virtue in "if."

Jag. I s not this a rare fellow, my lord ? he's as good at any thing, and yet a fool.

Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots Ins wit.

Still music. Enter Hymen, leading Rosalind in

woman's clothes: and Celia. Hym. Then is there mirth in/teaven. When earthly things made even

Atone together.
Good duke, receive thy daughter:
Hymen from heaven brought her;

Yea, brought her hither.
That thou mightst join her hand with his.
Whose heart within her bo^om is.
Has. [ To Duke S.] To you I give myself, for I am
yours.—

[To Orlando.] To you I give myself, for 1 am yours. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.

Phe. If sight and shape be true, Why then,—iny love adieu! Ros, [To Duke S.] Ill have no father, if you be not he:

f To Orlando. 1 I'll have no husband, if you be not he :—
f To Phebe.] Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.
Hym. Peace, hoi Ibar confusion:
* Tis I must make conclusion

Of these most strange events:
Here's eight that must take hands
To join in Hymen's bands,

If truth holds true contents.
I To Orlando and Rosalind. J You and you no

cross shall part:—
[ To Oliver and Celia 1 You and you are heart
in heart:—
[To Phebc] You to his love must accord.
Or have a woman to your lord

[ To Touchstone and Audrey.] You""and

you are sure together,
As the winter to loul weather.
Whiles a wedlock hymn we sing,
Feed yourselves with questioning;
That reason wonder may diminish.
How thus we met, and these things finish.

SONG.

Wedding is great Juno's crown:

O blessed bond of board and bed I
'Tis Hymen peoples every town:

High wedlock, then, be honourld:
Honour, high honour and renown.
To Hymen, god of every town.
Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me I
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.
Phe. [ Jo Silvius.] 1 will not eat my word, now thou
art mine;

Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

Enter Jaques de Bois.

Jag. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two; I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, That bring these tidings to this fair assembly.— Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day Men of great worth resorted to this forest. Address d a mighty power; which were on foot, In his own conduct, purposely to take His brother here, and put him to the sword: And to the skirts of this wild wood he came; Where, meeting with an old religious man. After some question with hun, was converted Both from his enterprise and from the world; His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, And all their lands restor'd to them again. That were with him cxil'd. This to be true, I do engage my life.

Duke S, Welcome, young man;

Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
To one. his lands withheld; and to the other,
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
First, in this forest, let us do those ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
And after, every of this happy number.
That have endur'd shrewd days and nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
According to the measure of their states.
Meantime, forget this new-faH'n dignity,
And fall into our rustic revelry.—
Play, music I—and you. brides and bridegrooms all,
With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.

Jag. Sir. by your patience :—if I heard you rightly.
The duke hath put on a religious ife,
And thrown into neglect the pompous court?

Jag.deB. He hath.

Jaq. To him will 1 : out of these convertites There is much matter to be heard and leani'd.— [To Duke S.] You to your former honour I bequeath; Your patience, and your virtue, well deserve it:— [To Orlando.] You to a love, that your true faith

doth merit :— [To Oliver.] You to your land, and love, and great

allies:—

[ To Silvius.] You to a long and well deserved bed :— [To Touchstone.) And you to wrangling; for thy

loving voyage Is but for two months victuat'd.—So. to your pleasures: I am for other than for dancing measures. Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jag. To see no pastime, I:—what you would have, 111 stay to know at your abandoned cave. [Exit. Duke S, Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites.

As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.

EPILOGUE.

Pas. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see the lord the prologue, if it be true that gAod wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no epilogue: yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in, then, that am neither

good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the beiialf of a good play I 1 am not furnished like a

beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way i may ple;ise. If I were a woman, I would kiss as is. to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I many of you as had beards that pleased me, corncharge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, plexions that liked me. and breaths that I defied not; to like as much of this play as ple.ise you: and I and, 1 am sure, as many as have good beards, or good charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when (as I perceive by your simpering' none of you hate I make court'sy, bid me farewell. '' J

, , --T simpering none of you TM. . them,) that between you and the women, the play

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SCENE,—Sometimes in Padua; and sometimes in Petruchio's House in the Country.

INDUCTION.

SCENE \.—Before an Alehouse on a Heath.
Enter Hostess and Sly.

Sly, IHpheeseyou, in faith.

Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue 1

Sly. Y* are a baggage: the Slys 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. Saint Jeronimy,—Go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

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. [Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep.

Wind Horns. Enter a "Lordfrom hunting, with

Huntsmen and Servants. Lord. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:

Bractl Merriman,—the poor cur is emboss'd;
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, ooy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

i Hun. Why. Bellman is as good as he, my lord;
He cried upon it at the merest loss.
And twice to-day picked out the dullest scent:
Trust me, 1 take him for the better dog.

Lord. Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
1 would esteem him worth a dozen such.
But sup them well, and look unto thein all:
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

i Hun. I will, my lord.

Lord. {Sees Sly.] What's here ? one dead, or drunk?

See, dotn he breathe? a 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 1 how like a swine he

lies!

Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image I

Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man—

What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,

Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,

A most delicious banquet by his bed.

And brave attendants near nitn when he wakes.

Would not the beggar then forget himself?

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

a Huh. It would seem strange unto him when ho wak'd.

Lord. Even as a flattering dream, or worthless fancy. Then take him up, and manage welt the jest; Carry him gently to my fairest chamber. And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters. And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Procure me music ready when he wakes. To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound; And if he chance to speak, be ready straight. And, with a low submissive reverence. 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 hatlds Some one be ready with a costly suit. And ask him what apparel he will wear, Another tell him of his hounds and horse. And that his lady mourns at his disease: Persuade him that he hath been lunatic

And, when he says he is say that he

For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs:
It will be pastime passing excellent.
If it be husbanded with modesty.

i Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we will play 0«r As he shall think, by our true diligence, [part, 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.

| Sly is borne out. A trumpet sounds* Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds;

| Exit Servant. Belike, some noble gentleman, that means. Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

Re-enter Servant. How nowl who is it?

Serv. An it please your honour,

Players that offer service to your lordship.

Lord. Bid them come near.

Enter Players.

Now, fellows, you are welcome.

Players. We thank your honour.

Lord. Do you intend to stay with me to-night T

2 Play. So please your lordship to accept our duty.

Lord. With all my heart.—This fellow I remember. Since once he playVI a farmer's eldest yon: 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.

1 Play. 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 some sport in hand.
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 I tell you, sirs,
If you should smile, he grows impatient.

1 Play. Fear not, my lord : we can contain ourselves, Were he the veriest autick 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
17*0(1 Servant.] Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew iny page
And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
That done, conduct him to the drunkard s chamber;
And call him madam, do him obeisance.
Tell hiin 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 command,
Wherein your lady and your humble wife
May show her duty, and make known her love?
And then,—with kind embracenients, tempting kisses,
And with declining head into his bosom,
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
To see her noble lowl restor'd to health.
Who for this seven years hath esteem'd him
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 wf*ll 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 naitc thou canst:
Anon 111 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.

[ Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A bedchamber in the Lord's House. Sly is discovered in a rich nightgoivu, with Attendants: some with apparel, others with basin, eioer, and appurtenances. Enter Lord, dressed like a servant.

Sly. J Waking. ] For God's sake, a pot of small ale. iServ. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack? [serves?

2 Serv, Will *t please your honour taste of these con

3 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 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, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.

Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour 1 O, that a mighty man, of such descent. Of such possessions, and so high esteem, Should be infused With so foul a spirit 1

Sly. What! would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher Sly, old Sly's son, of Burton-heath ; by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacker, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me not: if she say 1 am not fourteen pence 011 the score for sheer ale, score me up for the tyingest knave in Christendom. What: 1 am not bestraught: here's—

1 Serv. 0, 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

As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. [house,
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.
And twenty caged nightingales do sing: [Music.
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch
Softer anil sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semirauiis.
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 thein,
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 Serz\ Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch the* straight

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

Lord. We'll show thee Io 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 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'er-rau 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 dreaiu'd till now?
I do not sleep: I see, 1 hear, I speak;
I smell sweet savours; and I feel soft tilings:—
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 hands?

[Servantspresent a ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd! O, that once more you knew but what you are I These fifteen years you have been in a dream; Or, when you wak'u, 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?

r 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. Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts I 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 Pinipernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which nt;ver were, nor no man ever saw.
Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends I
All. Amen.

Sly, I thank thee: thou shalt not lose by It

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