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Lord. Hence comes it, that your kindred fhun your
house, As beaten hence by your ftrange lunacy. Oh, 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; [Mufic. And twenty caged nightingales do sing. Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee 10 a couch, Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. Say, thou wilt walk, we will bestrow the ground: Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd, Their harness studded all with gold and pearl. Dost thou love hawking ? thou hast hawks, will foar Above the morning lark. Or wilt thou hunt? Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
i Man. Say, thou wilt course, thy greyhounds are
As breathed itags; ay, fleeter than the roe.
2 Man. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee
Lord. We'll shew thee Io, as she was a maid,
3 Man. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord : Thou hast a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waining age,
1 Man. And 'till the tears, that she hath shed for
she is inferior to none.
Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap:
1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would
say, ye were beaten out of door,
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.
Sly. By th' Mars, I think I am a Lord indeed. What is thy name?
Man. Sim, an't please your Honour.
Sly. Sim? that's as much as to say, Simeon or Si. mon , put forth thy hand and
fill the pot.
I am your
Enter Lady, with Attendants.
my noble Lord ? Sly. Marry, I fare well, for here is cheer enough. Where's my wife?
Lady. Here, noble Lord, what is thy will with her?
Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me hufband ? My men should call me lord, I am your good man.
Lady. My husband and my lord, my Lord and husband;
wife in all obedience. Sly. I know it well: what must I call her? Lord. Madam. Sly. Alce madam, or Joan madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else, fo lords call ladies.
Sly. Come, sit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her. Madam wife, they say, that I have dream'd, and slept above some fifteen years and more.
Lady. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.
Sly, 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone:Madam, undress you, and come now to bed. Sim, drink to her.
Lady. Thrice-noble Lord, let me entreat of you, ,
For your Physicians have exprelly charg'd,
Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly tarry so long; but I would be loath to fall into my dream again: I will therefore tarry in despight of the flesh and the blood.
Enter a Messenger.
doctors hold it very meet, Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood; And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy. Therefore, they thought it good you hear a play, And frame your mind to mirth and merriment; Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life.
Sly. Marry, I will ; let them play; is it not a Commodity? a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick ?
Lady. No, my good Lord, it is more pleasing stuff.
Sly. Well, we'll see't: come, Madam wife, fit by my side, and let the world slip, we shall ne'er be younger.
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,