<SPEECH 1><ACT ?><SCENE 1><0%>
<LORD>	<1%>
	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.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 2><ACT ?><SCENE 1><1%>
<LORD>	<1%>
	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.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 3><ACT ?><SCENE 1><1%>
<LORD>	<2%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Sees Sly.>
</STAGE DIR> What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?
</LORD>

<SPEECH 4><ACT ?><SCENE 1><1%>
<LORD>	<2%>
	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?
</LORD>

<SPEECH 5><ACT ?><SCENE 1><1%>
<LORD>	<2%>
	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.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 6><ACT ?><SCENE 1><2%>
<LORD>	<3%>
	Take him up gently, and to bed with him,
	And each one to his office when he wakes.
<STAGE DIR>
<Sly is borne out. A trumpet sounds.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
	Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

</LORD>

<SPEECH 7><ACT ?><SCENE 1><3%>
<LORD>	<3%>
	Bid them come near.

</LORD>

<SPEECH 8><ACT ?><SCENE 1><3%>
<LORD>	<4%>
	Do you intend to stay with me to-night?
</LORD>

<SPEECH 9><ACT ?><SCENE 1><3%>
<LORD>	<4%>
	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.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 10><ACT ?><SCENE 1><3%>
<LORD>	<4%>
	'Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.
	Well, you are come to me in 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 behaviour,—
	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.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 11><ACT ?><SCENE 1><4%>
<LORD>	<4%>
	Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
	And give them friendly welcome every one:
	Let them want nothing that my house affords.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt one with the Players.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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 observ'd 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 restor'd to health,
	Who for this seven years hath esteemed 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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 12><ACT ?><SCENE 2><5%>
<LORD>	<6%>
	Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
	O, that a mighty man, of such descent,
	Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
	Should be infused with so foul a spirit!
</LORD>

<SPEECH 13><ACT ?><SCENE 2><6%>
<LORD>	<7%>
	Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
	As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
	O 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,
<STAGE DIR>
<Music.>
</STAGE DIR>
	And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
	Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch
	Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
	On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
	Say thou wilt walk, we will bestrew 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 soar
	Above the morning lark: or wilt thou hunt?
	Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,
	And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 14><ACT ?><SCENE 2><7%>
<LORD>	<8%>
	We'll show thee Io as she was a maid,
	And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,
	As lively painted as the deed was done.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 15><ACT ?><SCENE 2><7%>
<LORD>	<8%>
	Thou art a lord and nothing but a lord:
	Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
	Than any woman in this waning age.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 16><ACT ?><SCENE 2><9%>
<LORD>	<10%>
	Madam.
</LORD>

<SPEECH 17><ACT ?><SCENE 2><9%>
<LORD>	<10%>
	Madam, and nothing else: so lords call ladies.
</LORD>

