Hoff. You will not pay for the glaffes you have burst? Sly. No, not a deniere: go by, Jeronimo *. to thy cold bed, and warm thee. go Hoft. I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third borough. Sly. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll anfwer him by law; I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, and kindly. [Falls afleep. Wind horns. Enter a Lord from hunting, with a train. Lord. Huntfman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds: Leech Merriman, the poor cur is imbost; And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd Brach. Hun. Why, Belinan is as good as he, my Lord; He cried upon it at the meereft lofs, And twice to-day pick'd out the dulleft fcent: Lord. Thou art a fool; if Echo were as fleet, I would eftcem him worth a dozen fuch. But fup them well, and look unto them all,- Hun. I will, my Lord. Lord. What's here? one dead or drunk? See, doth he breathe? 2 Hun. He breathes, my Lord. Were he not warm'd with ale, This were a bed but cold to fleep fo foundly. Lord. O monftrous beast! how like a fwine he lies! Grim death, how foul and lothfome is thy image! Sirs, I will practife on this drunken man. What think you, if he were convey'd to bed," 1 Go by, Jeronimo, was a kind of by-word in the author's days, as appears by its being used in the fame manner by Ben Johnson, Beau. mont, and Fletcher, and other writers near that time. It arofe first from a paffage in an old play called Heironymo, or, The Spanish tragedy. Wrapp'd Wrapp'd in fweet cloaths; rings put upon his fingers; And brave attendants near him when he wakes; I Hun. Believe me, Lord, I think he cannot chufe. 2 Hun. It would feem ftrange unto him when he wak'd.. Lord. Even as a flatt'ring dream, or worthless fancy. And hang it round with all my wanton pictures; Say, what is it your Honour will command? Full of rofe-water, and beftrew'd with flowers; And fay, Wilt pleafe your Lordship cool your hands And ask him what apparel he will wear; If it be husbanded with modefty. 1 Hun. My Lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part, ». As he fhall think, by our true diligence, He is no less than what we fay he is. Lord. Take him up gently, and to bed with him; And each one to his office when he wakes. [Some bear out Sly. Sound trumpets. Sirrah, go fee what trumpet is that founds. Belike, fome noble gentleman that means, [Ex. fervant. Travelling fome journey, to repofe him here.. SCENE 11. Re-enter fervant. How now? who is it? J Ser. An't pleafe your Honour, players That offer fervice to your Lordship. Lord. Bid them come near. Enter Players. Now, fellows, you are welcome. 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 fon: 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman fo well: I have forgot your name; but, fure, that part Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd. Sim. 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 fome fport in hand, Wherein your cunning can affift me much. There is a Lord will hear you play to-night; But I am doubtful of your modefties, Left, over-eying of his odd behaviour, (For yet his Honour never heard a play), You break into fome merry paffion, And fo offend him: for I tell you, Sirs, If you should smile, he grows impatient. Play. Fear not, my Lord, we can contain ourselves; Were he the verieft antic in the world. 2 Play. [to the other.] Go get a dishclout to make clean your shoes, and I'll speak for the properties. [Exit player. My Lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little vinegar to make our devil roar. Lord. Go firrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome every one: Let them want nothing that the house affords. [Exit one with the players. Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, And fee him drefs'd in all fuits like a lady. That That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber, To fee her Noble Lord reftor'd to health, Which in a napkin being clofe convey'd, ine T SAT See this difpatch'd with all the hafte thou canft;">{} I long to hear him call the drunkard husband; May well abate the over-merry spleen, Which otherwife will go into extremes. [Exit Lord. Changes to a bedchamber in the Lord's house. Enter Sly with attendants, fome with apparel, bafon, and ewer, and other appurtenances. Re-enter Lord. Sly. For God's fake, a pot of small ale. fack? Bb3 2 Sero. 2 Serv. Will't please your Honour tafte of these conferves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your Honour wear to-day ? Sly. I am Chriftopher Sly, call not me Honour, nor Lordship: I ne'er drank fack in my life; and if you give me any conferves, give me conferves of beef: ne'er aik me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more fockings than legs, nor no more fhoes than feet, nay fometimes more feet than fhoes, or fuch fhoes as my toes look through the over-leather. Lord. Heav'n cease this idle humour in your Honour! Oh that a mighty man of such descent, Of fuch poffeffions, and fo high esteem, Should be infufed with fo foul a fpirit! Sly. What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christophero Sly, old Sly's fon of Burton-heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-marker, by tranf mutation a bear-herd, and now by prefent profeffion a tinker? Afk Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if the know me not; if she say I am not fourteen pence on the fcore for sheer ale, score me up for the lying't knave in Christendom. What! I am not beftraught here's : 1 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your fervants droop. kindred fhun your As beaten hence by your ftrange lunacy. Oh, Noble Lord, bethink thee of thy birth, Look how thy fervants do attend on thee, Each in his office ready at thy beck. Wilt thou have mufic? hark, Apollo plays; [Mufic. And twenty caged nightingales do fing. Or wilt thou fleep we'll have thee to a couch, ! Softer and fweeter than the luftful bed On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. Say thou wilt walk, we will befrow the ground: |