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    Induction, Scene I

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    Chapter 1
    SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath.

    Enter Hostess and SLY
    I'll pheeze you, in faith.

    A pair of stocks, you rogue!

    Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in
    the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror.
    Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa!

    You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

    No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold
    bed, and warm thee.

    I know my remedy; I must go fetch the


    Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him
    by 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

    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 good
    At 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 loss
    And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
    Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

    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.

    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.

    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.

    Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
    Then take him up and manage well the jest:
    Carry him gently to my fairest chamber
    And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
    Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters
    And 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 straight
    And with a low submissive reverence
    Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
    Let one attend him with a silver basin
    Full 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 suit
    And 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 diligence
    He is no less than what we say he is.

    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

    Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:

    Exit Servingman

    Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
    Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

    Re-enter Servingman

    How now! who is it?

    An't please your honour, players
    That offer service to your lordship.

    Bid them come near.

    Enter Players

    Now, fellows, you are welcome.

    We thank your honour.

    Do you intend to stay with me tonight?

    A Player
    So please your lordship to accept our duty.

    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 part
    Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.

    A Player
    I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.

    '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 hand
    Wherein 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 passion
    And 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.

    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

    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 ladies
    Unto their lords, by them accomplished:
    Such duty to the drunkard let him do
    With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
    And say 'What is't your honour will command,
    Wherein your lady and your humble wife
    May 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'd
    To see her noble lord restored to health,
    Who for this seven years hath esteem'd him
    No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
    And if the boy have not a woman's gift
    To rain a shower of commanded tears,
    An onion will do well for such a shift,
    Which in a napkin being close convey'd
    Shall 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

    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 laughter
    When they do homage to this simple peasant.
    I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
    May well abate the over-merry spleen
    Which otherwise would grow into extremes.

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    Chapter 1
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