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Which in a napkin being close convey'd,
A bedchamber in the Lord's house. 8LY is discovered in a rich night gown, with At
tendants ; some with apparel, others with bason, ewer, and other appurtenances.
Enter LORI, dressed like a servant.
Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. 1 Ser. Will’t please your lordship drink a cup of
sack? 2 Ser. Will’t please your honor taste of these
conserves ? 3 Ser. 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
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 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
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.1 Here's
1 Ser. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.
your house, As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. O, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth ;
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,
for Semiramis. 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 them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
1 Ser. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are
As breathed stags; ay, fleeter than the roe. 2 Ser. Dost thou love pictures ? we will fetch
thee straight Adonis, painted by a running brook; And Cytherea 1 all in sedges hid ; Which seem to move and wanton with her breatn, 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 surprised,