Act · Scene I
Before an alehouse on a heath.
Hover a speech to translate it — or press play to hear it performed.
Enter Hostess and SLY
SLY
I'll pheeze you, in faith.
Hostess
A pair of stocks, you rogue!
SLY
Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look inthe chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror.Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa!
Hostess
You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
SLY
No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy coldbed, and warm thee.
Hostess
I know my remedy; I must go fetch thethird--borough.
Exit
SLY
Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer himby law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come,and kindly.
Falls asleep
Horns winded. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train
Lord
Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:Brach 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 goodAt the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
First Huntsman
Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;He cried upon it at the merest lossAnd 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.
First Huntsman
I will, my lord.
Lord
What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?
Second Huntsman
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?
First Huntsman
Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
Second Huntsman
It would seem strange unto him when he waked.
Lord
Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.Then take him up and manage well the jest:Carry him gently to my fairest chamberAnd hang it round with all my wanton pictures:Balm his foul head in warm distilled watersAnd 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 straightAnd with a low submissive reverenceSay 'What is it your honour will command?'Let one attend him with a silver basinFull 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 suitAnd 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.
First Huntsman
My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,As he shall think by our true diligenceHe 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.
Some bear out SLY. A trumpet sounds
Lord
Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
Exit Servingman
Lord
Belike, some noble gentleman that means,Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
Re-enter Servingman
Lord
How now! who is it?
Servant
An't please your honour, playersThat offer service to your lordship.
Lord
Bid them come near.
Enter Players
Lord
Now, fellows, you are welcome.
Players
We thank your honour.
Lord
Do you intend to stay with me tonight?
A Player
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 partWas aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.
A Player
I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.
Lord
'Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.Well, you are come to me in a happy time;The rather for I have some sport in handWherein 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-eyeing of his odd behavior,--For yet his honour never heard a play--You break into some merry passionAnd so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,If you should smile he grows impatient.
A Player
Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,Were he the veriest antic 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.
Exit one with the Players
Lord
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 observed in noble ladiesUnto their lords, by them accomplished:Such duty to the drunkard let him doWith soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,And say 'What is't your honour will command,Wherein your lady and your humble wifeMay 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'dTo see her noble lord restored to health,Who for this seven years hath esteem'd himNo better than a poor and loathsome beggar:And if the boy have not a woman's giftTo rain a shower of commanded tears,An onion will do well for such a shift,Which in a napkin being close convey'dShall in despite enforce a watery eye.See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:Anon I'll give thee more instructions.
Exit a Servingman
Lord
I know the boy will well usurp the grace,Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman:I long to hear him call the drunkard husband,And how my men will stay themselves from laughterWhen they do homage to this simple peasant.I'll in to counsel them; haply my presenceMay well abate the over-merry spleenWhich otherwise would grow into extremes.
Exeunt