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And Citberea all in sedges hid;
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 :
Sly. Am I a Lord, and have I such a Lady?
Śly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap: But did I never speak of all that time?
i Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of door, And rail'd upon the Hostess of the house; And say, you would present her ap the Leet, Because she bought stone-jugs, and no seal’d quarts:
Sometimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
Sly, Ay, the woman's maid of the house.
Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up;
Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends!
Man. Sim, an't please your Honour.
Sly. Sim? that's as much as to say, Simeon or Simon; put forth thy hand and fill the pot.
[The Servant gives him Drink,
Enter Lady, with attendants,
Lady. How fares my noble Lord?
Sly. Marry, I fare well, for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife?
Lady. Here, noble Lord, what is thy will with her?
Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me husband? My men should call me lord, I am your good man. Lady. My husband and my lord, my lord and hus,
band I am your wife in all obedience.
Sly. I know it well: what must I call her? (6) As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,] An unknown Correspondent, (who figns himself L. H.) is pleas'd to propose this very reasonable Conjecture,
and old Jahn Naps o'th'Green, As Sly says, He's the Son of old Sly of Burton-heath, and talks of the fat Alewife of Wincot ; he thinks, he can with no Propriety have any Acquaintance in Greece. If, indeed, the Province of Greece were to be here understood, this Observation must necessarily take place; but I have not disturbid the Text, because I do not know, but that, in the Neighbourhood of Wincot
and Burton-heath, there may be fome Village called Greece, or Greys, &c.
Sly. Come, fit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her. Madam wife, they say, that I have dream'd, and flept 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, To pardon me yet for a night or two: Or, if not so, until the Sun be set ; For your physicians have exprefly charg’d, In peril to incur your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed; I hope, this reason stands for my excuse.
Sly. Ay, it stands so, that I may hardly tarry fo 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. Mel. Your Honour's Players, hearing your amend
ment, Are come to play a pleasant Comedy ; For so your Doctors hold it very nieet, Seeing too much fadness hath congeald 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 fee't : come, Madam wife, fit by my fide, and let the world flip, we shall ne'er be younger.
To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
The pleasant garden of great Italy ;
And, by my father's love and leave, am
(7) I am arriv’d for fruitful Lombardy,] Tho' all the Impressions concur in this, I take it to be a Blunder of the Editors, and not of the Author. Padua is not in Lombardy ; but Pisa, from which Lucentio comes, is really in those Territories.
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
Tra. Me pardonato, gentle master mine,
thus continue your Resolve,
Luc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advise ;
Tra. Master, some show to welcome us to town.
Hortensio. Lucentio and Tranio fand by,