Some one be ready with a coftly fuit, 1 Hun. My Lord, I warrant you, we'll play our part, As he fhall think, by our true diligence, He is no less than what we fay 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. Sound Trumpets. Sirrah, go see what trumpet is that founds. Belike, fome noble gentleman that means, [Ex. Servant. Travelling fome journey, to repofe him here. How now? who is it? Ser. An't please your Honour, Players That offer fervice to your lordship. Lord. Bid them come near: Enter Players, Now, Fellows, you are welcome. Play. We thank your Honour, Lord. Do you intend to ftay with me to night? 2 Play. 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 fon : 'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman fo well: I I have forgot your name; but, fure, that part Sim. I think, 'twas Soto that your Honour means. Play. Fear not, my lord, we can contain ourselves; Were he the verieft antick in the world. 2 Play. [to the other.] Go get a Difhclout to make clean your hoes, and I'll speak for the properties. [Exit Player, My lord, we must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little Vinegar to make our devil roar. Lord. Go, firrah, take them to the buttery, And give them friendly welcome, every one: Let them want nothing that the house affords. [Exit one with the Players. 4 a little Vinegar to make our devil roar.] When the acting the myfteries of the old and new Testament was in vogue; at the representation of the mystery of the Paffion, Judas and the Devil made a part. And the Devil, whereever he came, was always to fuffer fome difgrace, to make the people laugh: As here, the buffonery was to apply the gall and vinegar to make him roar. And the Paffion being that, of all the myfteries, which was most frequently reprefented, vinegar bceame at length the standing implement to torment the Devil: And used for this purpose even after the myfteries ceafed, and the moralities came in vogue; where the Devil continued to have a confiderable part.The mention of it here was to ridicule so abfurd a circumstance in thefe old farces. Sirrah, Sirrah, go you to Bartholmew my page, Who for twice feven years hath esteem'd himself See this dispatch'd, with all the haste thou canst; grace, Voice, gate, and action of a gentlewoman. I long to hear him call the drunkard, husband; Which otherwife will go into extreams. [Exit Lord. SCENE Changes to a Bedchamber in the Lord's House. Enter Sly with Attendants, fome with apparel, bafon and other appurtenances. Re-enter Lord. and ewer, Sly. FOR God's fake, a pot of small ale. 1 Serv. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of fack? 2 Serv. Will't please your Honour taste of these Conferves? 3 Serv. What raiment will your Honour wear to day? Sly. I am Chriftopher Sly, call not me Honour, nor lordship: I ne'er drank fack in my life: and if you give me any Conferves, give me Conferves of beef: ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more ftockings than legs, nor no more fhoes than feet; nay, fometimes, more feet than fhoes; or fuch fhoes as my toes look through the over-leather. Lord. Heav'n cease this idle humour in your Honour! Oh, that a mighty man of such descent, Of fuch poffeffions, and fo high efteem, Should be infufed with fo foul a fpirit! Sly. What, would you make me mad? am not I Christophero Sly, old Sly's Son of Burton-heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card-maker, by tranfmutation a bearherd, and now by present profeffion a tinker? ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if the know me not; if fhe fay, I am not fourteen pence on the fcore for fheer ale, fcore me up for the lying'st knave in Christendom. What, I am not beftraught: here's—————— 1 Man. 1 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 2 Man. Oh, this it is that makes your fervants droop. 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, Wilt thou have mufick? hark, Apollo plays; [Mufick. Or wilt thou fleep? we'll have thee to a couch, On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis. Say, thou wilt walk, we will beftrow the ground: I Man. Say, thou wilt courfe, thy greyhounds are As breathed flags; ay, fleeter than the roe. 2 Man. Doft thou love pictures? we will fetch thee ftraight Adonis, painted by a running brook; And Citberea all in fedges hid; Which feem to move, and wanton with her breath, Ev'n as the waving fedges play with wind. Lord. We'll fhew thee Io, as fhe was a maid, And how she was beguiled and furpris'd, As lively painted as the deed was done. 3 Man. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood, Scratching her legs, that one fhall fwear fhe bleeds: And |