[To PHEBE.] 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 foul 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!
'Tis Hymen peoples every town:
High wedlock, then, be honoured:
Honour, high honour and renown,
To Hymen, god of every town!

Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me!

Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.

Phe. [To SILVIUS.] I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;

Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

Enter JAQUES de Bois.

Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, [two: 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 him, 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 exil'd. This to be true, I do engage my life.

Duke S. 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,

Welcome, young man;

That have endur'd shrewd days and nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returnèd fortune,
According to the measure of their states.
Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity,
And fall into our rustic revelry.—

Play, music!-and you, brides and bridegrooms all,
With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
Jaq. Sir, by your patience.-If I heard you
The duke hath put on a religious life, [rightly,
And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
Jaq. de B. He hath.

Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites There is much matter to be heard and learn'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 victual'd.-So, to your pleaI am for other than for dancing measures. [sures: Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Jaq. To see no pastime, I:--what you would have, I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit. Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, As we do trust they 'll end, in true delights.

Ros. 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 good 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 a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play! I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women,

for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering none of you hates them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not; and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make court'sy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt.

INDUCTION.

SCENE I.-Before an Alehouse on a Heath.

Enter Hostess and SLY.

Sly. I'll pheese you, in faith.
Host. A pair of stocks, you rogue!

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 third borough.

[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 jalis asleep. Wind Horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants.

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

Trash Merriman,--the poor cur is emboss'd;
And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault?

I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

1 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 him 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:
To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

1 Hun. I will, my lord.

Lord. [Sees SLY.] What's here? one dead, or drunk? Sce, doth he breathe?

2 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!

Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!

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 him when he wakes,-
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

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

2 Hun. It would seem strange unto him when he wak'd.

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:
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 bason
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?

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 dreams,
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 our
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 now! 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? 2 Play. So please your lordship to accept our

duty.

Lord. With all my heart.-This fellow I remember, 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.

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.

[selves,

1 Play. Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourWere he the veriest antick 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. [To a Servant.] Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my

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 him 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 embracements, tempting

kisses,

And with declining head into his bosom,-
Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
To see her noble lord restor❜d to health,
Who for this seven years hath esteemed him
No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:

2 Serv. Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?

3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear today?

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!

O, that a mighty man, of such descent,
Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit!

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 Hacket, the fat alewife 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

I 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,
And twenty cagèd nightingales do sing:
Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch
Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:

[Music.