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That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber,
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 appurtenances.
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 I 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. 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 trimmed up for Semiramis. Say, thou wilt walk? we will bestrew the ground. Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shall be trapped, 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 them, 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 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,
Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid;
3 Serv. Or, Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord.
1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed for thee,
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 :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 ?
[Servants present a ewer, basin, and napkin. O, how we joy to see your wit restored! O, that once more you knew but what you are! These fifteen years you have been in a dream; Or, when you waked, so waked as if you slept.
Sly. These fifteen years! By my fay, a goodly nap. But did I never speak of all that time?
1 Serv. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words.-
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 reckoned up,As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece, And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell; And twenty more such names and men as these, Which never were, nor no man ever saw.
Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
Enter the Page, as a Lady, with Attendants.
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 memlord; 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. 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
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, And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy, Therefore they thought it good you hear a play, And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life.
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.
Sly. What, household stuff?
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.
Enter LUCENTIO and TRANIO.
Tra. Mi perdonate, gentle master mine,