97Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd.

98Sincklo. I thinke 'twas Soto that your honor meanes.

99Lord. 'Tis verie true, thou didst it excellent:

100Well you are come to me in happie time,

101The rather for I haue some sport in hand,

102Wherein your cunning can assist me much.

103There is a Lord will heare you play to night;

104But I am doubtfull of your modesties,

105Least (ouer-eying of his odde behauiour,

106For yet his honor neuer heard a play)

107You breake into some merrie passion,

108And so offend him: for I tell you sirs,

109If you should smile, he growes impatient.

110Plai. Feare not my Lord, we can contain our selues,

111Were he the veriest anticke in the world.

112Lord. Go sirra, take them to the Butterie,

113And giue them friendly welcome euerie one,

114Let them want nothing that my house affoords.

116Sirra go you to Bartholmew my Page,

117And see him drest in all suites like a Ladie:

118That done, conduct him to the drunkards chamber,

119And call him Madam, do him obeisance:

120Tell him from me (as he will win my loue)

121He beare himselfe with honourable action,

122Such as he hath obseru'd in noble Ladies

123Vnto their Lords, by them accomplished,

124Such dutie to the drunkard let him do:

125With soft lowe tongue, and lowly curtesie,

126And say: What is't your Honor will command,

127Wherein your Ladie, and your humble wife,

128May shew her dutie, and make knowne her loue.

129And then with kinde embracements, tempting kisses,

130And with declining head into his bosome

131Bid him shed teares, as being ouer-ioyed

132To see her noble Lord restor'd to health,

133Who for this seuen yeares hath esteemed him

134No better then a poore and loathsome begger:

135And if the boy haue not a womans guift

136To raine a shower of commanded teares,

137An Onion wil do well for such a shift,

138Which in a Napkin (being close conuei'd)

139Shall in despight enforce a waterie eie:

140See this dispatch'd with all the hast thou canst,

141Anon Ile giue thee more instructions.

143I know the boy will wel vsurpe the grace,

144Voice, gate, and action of a Gentlewoman:

145I long to heare him call the drunkard husband,

146And how my men will stay themselues from laughter,

147When they do homage to this simple peasant,

148Ile in to counsell them: haply my presence

149May well abate the ouer-merrie spleene,

150Which otherwise would grow into extreames.

153Beg. For Gods sake a pot of small Ale.

1541.Ser. Wilt please your Lord drink a cup of sacke?

1552.Ser. Wilt please your Honor taste of these Con-

156serues?

1573.Ser. What raiment wil your honor weare to day.

158Beg. I am Christophero Sly, call not mee Honour nor

159Lordship: I ne're drank sacke in my life: and if you giue

160me any Conserues, giue me conserues of Beefe: nere ask

161me what raiment Ile weare, for I haue no more doub-

162lets then backes: no more stockings then legges: nor

163no more shooes then feet, nay sometime more feete then

164shooes, or such shooes as my toes looke through the o-

165uer-leather.

166Lord. Heauen cease this idle humor in your Honor.

167Oh that a mightie man of such discent,

168Of such possessions, and so high esteeme

169Should be infused with so foule a spirit.

170Beg. What would you make me mad? Am not I Chri-

171stopher Slie, old Sies sonne of Burton-heath, by byrth a

172Pedler, by education a Cardmaker, by transmutation a

173Beare-heard, and now by present profession a Tinker.

174Aske Marrian Hacket the fat Alewife of Wincot, if shee

175know me not: if she say I am not xiiii.d. on the score for

176sheere Ale, score me vp for the lyingst knaue in Christen

177dome. What I am not bestraught: here's---

1783.Man. Oh this it is that makes your Ladie mourne.

1792. Mar. Oh this is it that makes your seruants droop.

180Lord. Hence comes it, that your kindred shuns your (house

181As beaten hence by your strange Lunacie.

182Oh Noble Lord, bethinke thee of thy birth,

183Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment,

184And banish hence these abiect lowlie dreames:

185Looke how thy seruants do attend on thee,

186Each in his office readie at thy becke.

187Wilt thou haue Musicke? Harke Apollo plaies, Musick

188And twentie caged Nightingales do sing.

189Or wilt thou sleepe? Wee'l haue thee to a Couch,

190Softer and sweeter then the lustfull bed

191On purpose trim'd vp for Semiramis.

192Say thou wilt walke: we wil bestrow the ground.

193Or wilt thou ride? Thy horses shal be trap'd,

194Their harnesse studded all with Gold and Pearle.

195Dost thou loue hawking? Thou hast hawkes will soare

196Aboue the morning Larke. Or wilt thou hunt,

197Thy hounds shall make the Welkin answer them

198And fetch shrill ecchoes from the hollow earth.

1991.Man.Say thou wilt course, thy gray-hounds are as (swift

200As breathed Stags: I fleeter then the Roe.

2012.M. Dost thou loue pictures? we wil fetch thee strait

202Adonis painted by a running brooke,

203And Citherea all in sedges hid,

204Which seeme to moue and wanton with her breath,

205Euen as the wauing sedges play with winde.

206Lord. Wee'l shew thee Io, as she was a Maid,

207And how she was beguiled and surpriz'd,

208As liuelie painted, as the deede was done.

2093.Man. Or Daphne roming through a thornie wood,

210Scratching her legs, that one shal sweare she bleeds,

211And at that sight shal sad Apollo weepe,

212So workmanlie the blood and teares are drawne.

213Lord. Thou art a Lord, and nothing but a Lord:

214Thou hast a Ladie farre more Beautifull,

215Then any woman in this waining age.

2161 Man. And til the teares that she hath shed for thee,

217Like enuious flouds ore-run her louely face,

218She was the fairest creature in the world,

219And yet shee is inferiour to none.

220Beg. Am I a Lord, and haue I such a Ladie?

221Or do I dreame? Or haue I dream'd till now?

222I do not sleepe: I see, I heare, I speake:

223I smel sweet sauours, and I feele soft things:

224Vpon my life I am a Lord indeede,

225And not a Tinker, nor Christopher Slie.

226Well, bring our Ladie hither to our sight,

227And once againe a pot o'th smallest Ale.

S3 2.Man