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A bedchamber in the Lord's house.
[Enter aloft SLY, with Attendants; some with apparel, others with basin and
ewer and appurtenances; and Lord]
SLY
For God's sake a pot of small ale.
FIRST SERVANT
Will it please your lordship drink a cup of sack?
SECOND SERVANT
Will it please your honor taste of these conserves?
THIRD SERVANT
What raiment will your honour wear today.
SLY
I am Christophero Sly; call not me honor nor lordship: I nere drank sack in
my life: and if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef: nere
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 over-leather.
LORD
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Heaven | cease this | idle hum/or in your | honor.
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Oh that | a might|y man | of such | descent,
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Of such | posses|sions, and / so high | esteem
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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
Burtonheath, by birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, 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 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--
THIRD SERVANT
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Oh this | it is | that makes | your la|dy mourn.
SECOND SERVANT
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Oh this | is it | that makes | your serv|ants
droop.
LORD
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Hence^comes | it, that | your kind|red shuns |
your house
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As beat|en hence | by your / strange lun|acy,
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O nob|le lord,| bethink | thee of | thy birth,
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Call home | thy an|cient thoughts | from ban|ishment,
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And ban|ish hence | these ab|ject* low|ly dreams:
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Look how*| thy serv|ants do | attend | on thee,
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Each in | his of|fice rea|dy at | thy beck.
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Wilt thou | have^mus|ic? Hark | Apol|lo plays,
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And twen|ty cag|ed night|ingales | do sing.
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Or wilt | thou sleep?| We'll have | thee to | a
couch,
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Softer | and sweet|er than | the lust|ful bed
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On pur|pose trimmed | up for | Semi|ramis.
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Say* thou | wilt walk:| we will | bestrew | the
ground.
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Or wilt | thou ride?| Thy hors|es shall | be trapped,
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Their harn|ess stud|ded all | with gold | and
pearl.
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Dost thou | love^hawk|ing? Thou | hast hawks |
will soar
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Above | the morn|ing lark.| Or wilt | thou hunt,
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Thy hounds | shall make | the welk|in ans|wer
them
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And fetch | shrill ech/oes from | the hol|low earth.
FIRST SERVANT
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Say thou | wilt course,| thy grey|hounds are | as
swift
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As breath|ed stags:| aye fleet|er than | the roe.
SECOND SERVANT
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Dost thou | love^pic|tures? We | will fetch |
thee straight
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Adon|is paint|ed by | a run|ning brook,
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And Cyth|ere|a all | in sed|ges hid,
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Which seem | to move | and want|on with | her
breath,
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Even | as the wav|ing sed|ges play | with wind.
LORD
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We'll show | thee I|o as | she was | a maid,
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And how | she was | beguil|ed and | surprised,
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As live|ly paint|ed as | the deed | was done.
THIRD SERVANT
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Or Daph|ne roam|ing through | a thor|ny wood,
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Scratching | her legs,| that one | shall swear |
she bleeds,
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And at | that sight | shall sad | Apol|lo weep,
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So work|manly | the blood | and tears | are
drawn.
LORD
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Thou art | a lord,| and noth|ing but | a lord:
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Thou hast | a la|dy far | more beaut|iful,
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Than an|y wom|an in | this wan|ing age.
FIRST SERVANT
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And till | the tears | that she | hath shed | for
thee,
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Like env|ious floods | ore-run | her love|ly
face,
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She was | the fair|est creat|ure in | the
world,
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And yet | she is | infer|ior | to none.
SLY
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Am I a | lord, and | have I | such a | lady?
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Or do | I dream?| Or have | I dreamed | till now?
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I do | not sleep:| I see,| I hear,| I speak:
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I smell | sweet sav|ors, and I // feel soft things:
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Upon | my life | I am | a lord | indeed,
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And not | a tink|er, nor | Christo|pher Sly.
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Well*, bring | our la|dy hith|er to | our sight,
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And once | again | a pot | of the smal|lest ale.
SECOND SERVANT
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Will it please | your mighti|ness | to wash | your
hands:
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Oh how | we joy | to see | your wit | restored,
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Oh that / once more | you knew | but what | you
are:
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These fif|teen years | you have | been in | a
dream,
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Or when | you waked,| so waked | as if | you
slept.
SLY
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These fif|teen years,| by my fay,| a good|ly
nap,
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But did | I nev|er speak | of all | that time.
FIRST SERVANT
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Oh yes | my lord,| but ve|ry id|le words,
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For though | you lay | here in this | goodly |
chamber,
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Yet would | you say,| ye were beat|en out | of
door,
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And rail | upon | the host|ess of | the
house:
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And say | you would | present | her at | the
leet,
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Because | she brought*/ stone jugs,| and no /
sealed quarts:
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Sometimes | you would call | out for | Cicely |
Hacket.
SLY
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Aye, the | woman's | maid of | the house:|
THIRD SERVANT
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Why sir | you know | no* house,| nor no | such maid
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Nor no | such^men | as you | have reck|oned up,
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As Ste|phen Sly,| and did / John Naps | of Greece,
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And Pet|er Turph,| and Hen|ry Pimp|ernell,
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And twen|ty more | such names | and men | as
these,
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Which nev|er were | nor no | man ev|er saw.
SLY
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Now Lord | be thank|ed for | my good | amends.
ALL
Amen.
SLY
I thank thee, thou shalt not lose by it.
[Enter the Page as a lady, with attendants]
PAGE
How fares my noble lord?
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 me lord, I
am your goodman.
PAGE
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My hus|band and | my lord,| my lord | and hus||band
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I | am your wife | in all | obe|dience.
SLY
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T T T T T T
I know it | well, what must | I call her?
LORD
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Madam.
SLY
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Alice | madam,| or Joan | madam?
LORD
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Madam,| and noth|ing else,| so lords | call
la||dies
SLY
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Mad|am wife,| they say | that I | have dreamed,
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And slept | above | some fif|teen year | or more.
PAGE
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Aye, and | the time | seems thir|ty un|to me,
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Being all | this time | aban|doned from | your bed.
SLY
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'Tis much,| servants | leave me | and her |
alone:
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Madam | undress | you, and / come now | to bed.
PAGE
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Thrice noble lord,| let me | entreat | of you
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To pard|on me | yet for | a night | or two:
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Or if | not so,| until | the sun | be set,
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For your | physi|cians have | express|ly charged,
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In peril | to incur | your form|er mal|ady,
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That I | should yet | absent | me from | your
bed:
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I hope | this reas|on stands | for my | excuse.
SLY
Aye, 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 Messenger]
MESSENGER
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Your hon|or's players | heating | your a|mendment,
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Are come | to play | a pleas|ant com|edy,
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For so | your doc|tors hold | it ve|ry meet,
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Seeing too | much sad|ness hath | congealed |
your blood,
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And mel|ancho|ly is | the nurse | of fren||zy.
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There|fore* they thought | it good | you hear | a play,
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And frame | your mind | to mirth | and mer|riment,
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Which bars | a thous|and harms,| and length|ens
life.
SLY
Marry I will let them play, it is not a comondy, a Christmas gambold, or a
tumbling-trick?
PAGE
No my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff.
SLY
What, household stuff.
PAGE
It is a kind of history.
SLY
Well, we'll see it:
Come madam wife sit by my side,
And let the world slip,
we shall nere be younger.
[Flourish]