Aud. Ay, I know who 't is; he hath no interest in me in the world: here comes the man you mean. Enter William.

Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown:

By my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. Will. Good even, Audrey.

Aud. God ye good even, William. Will. And good even to you, sir. Touch. Good even, gentle friend: Cover thy head, cover thy head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend?" Will. Five-and-twenty, sir. Touch. A ripe age: Is thy name William? Will. William, sir.

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to sound, when he showed me your handkercher? Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. there was never anything so sudden, but the fight Ros. O, I know where you are:-Nay, 't is true of two rams, and Cæsar's thrasonical brag ofĮ came, saw, and overcame:' For your brother and my sister no sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy: and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage, which they marriage: they are in the very wrath of love, and will climb incontinent, or else be incontinent before they will together; clubs cannot part them. Touch. Thank God!-a good answer: Art rich? Will. Faith, sir, so, so. Ort. They shall be married to-morrow; and I will Touch. So, so, is good, very good, very excellent bid the duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a good and yet it is not; it is but so, so. Art thou thing it is to look into happiness through another Will. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. man's eyes! By so much the more shall I to-mor[wise? Touch. Why, thou say'st well. I do now remem-row be at the height of heart-heaviness, by how ber a saying: The fool doth think he is wise, but much I shall think my brother happy, in having the wise man knows himself to be a fool.' The Ros. Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open his lips when he put it into his turn for Rosalind? mouth; meaning thereby, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You do love this maid? Will. I do, sir.

Touch. A fair name: Wast born i' the forest here?
Will. Ay, sir, I thank God.

Touch. Give me your hand: Art thou learned?
Will. No, sir!

Touch. Then learn this of me; To have, is to have: For it is a figure in rhetoric, that drink, being poured out of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty the other: For all your writers do consent, that ipse is he; now you are not ipse, for I am Will. Which he, sir?

he,

what he wishes for.

I

a

Orl. I can live no longer by thinking. Ros. I will weary you no longer then with idle talking. Know of me then, (for now I speak to some purpose,) that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I speak not this that you should bear know you are; neither do I labour for a greater good opinion of my knowledge, insomuch, I say, esteem than may in some little measure draw a belief from you, to do yourself good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things; I have, since I was three year old, Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman: conversed with a magician, most profound in his Therefore, you, clown, abandon, which is in the art, and yet not damnable. If you do love Rosalind vulgar, leave, the society, which in the boorish is, so near the heart as your gesture cries it out, when your brother marries Aliena shall you marry her: I company, of this female, which in the common is, know into what straits of fortune she is driven; and woman, which together is, abandon the society of this female; or, clown, thou perishest; or, to thy venient to you, to set her before your eyes to-morit is not impossible to me, if it appear not inconbetter understanding, diest; or to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into death, thy row, human as she is, and without any danger. liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings! thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy with though I say I am a magician: Therefore, put you Ros. By my life I do; which I tender dearly, thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with policy; I in your best array, bid your friends; for if you will will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways; therefore be married to-morrow, you shall; and to Rosalind, tremble and depart. Aud. Do, good William. Will. God rest you merry, sir. Enter Corin.

[Exit. if you will.

Cor. Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away. Touch. Trip, Audrey, trip, Audrey;-I attend, I attend. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Enter Orlando and Oliver. Orl. Is 't possible, that on so little acquaintance you should like her? that, but seeing, you should love her? and, loving, woo? and, wooing, she should grant? and will you persevere to enjoy her?

Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the poverty of her, the Sinall acquaintance, my sudden wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, I love Aliena; say with her, that she loves me; consent with both, that we may enjoy each other: it shall be to your good; for my father's house, and all the revenue that was old sir Rowland's, will I estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd.

Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: thither will I invite the duke, and all his contented followers: Go you, and prepare Aliena; for, look you, here comes my Rosalind. Enter Rosalind.

Ros. God save you, brother.
Oli. And you, fair sister.

Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee wear thy heart in a scarf.

Orl. It is my arm.

Enter Silvius and Phebe.

Look, here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of
hers.

Phe. Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,
To show the letter that I writ to you.
Ros. I care not if I have: it is my study
To seem despiteful and ungentle to you:
You are there follow'd by a faithful shepherd;
Look upon him, love him; he worships you. [love.
Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 't is to
Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
And so am I for Phebe.
Phe. And I for Ganymede.
Orl. And I for Rosalind.
Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service ;-
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And I for Ganymede.
Orl. And I for Rosalind.
Ros. And I for no woman.

Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy,

All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and observance,
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience.
All purity, all trial, all observance;
And so am I for Phebe.

Phe. And so am I for Ganymede.
Orl. And so am I for Rosalind.
Ros. And so am I for no woman.
Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
[To Rosalind.

Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love you?

[To Phebe.

the claws of a lior.

Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love you? | Ros. Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?'

Orl. To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear. Ros. Pray you, no more of this; 't is like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon.-I will help you, [te Silvius] if I can:--I would love you, [to Phebe] if I could.-To-morrow meet me altogether. -I will marry you, [to Phebe] if ever I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow:-I will satisfy you, [to Orlando] if ever I satisfied man, and you shall be married to-morrow:-I will content you, [to Silvius] if what pleases you contents you, and you shall be married to-morrow. As you [to Orlando] love Rosalind, meet; as you [to Silvius] love Phebe, meet; And as I love no woman, I'll meet.-So, fare you well: I have left you commands. Sil. I'll not fail, if I live. Phe.

Nor 1.

Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with

her.

Ros. And you say, you will have her, when I bring
her?
[To Orlando.
Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.
Ros. You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing?
[To Phebe.
Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after.
Ros. But, if you do refuse to marry me,
You 'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?
Phe. So is the bargain.
Ros. You say, that you 'll have Phebe, if she will?
[To Silvius.
Sil. Though to have her and death were both one
thing.
Ros. I have promised to make all this matter even.
Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daugh-
ter;-
Orl. Nor I. [Exe. You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter :-
Keep you your word, Phebe, that you marry me;
Or else, refusing me, to wed this shepherd:-
Keep your word, Silvius, that you 'll marry her,
If she refuse me-and from hence I go,
To make these doubts all even. [Ex. Ros, and Cel.
Duke S. I do remember in this shepherd-boy
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour."
Or. My lord, the first time that I ever saw him,
Methought he was a brother to your daughter:
But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born;
And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments
Of many desperate studies by his uncle,
Whom he reports to be a great magician,
Obscured in the circle of this forest.

SCENE III.-The same.
Enter Touchstone and Audrey.
Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey: to-

morrow will we be married.

Aud. I do desire it with all my heart: and I hope it is no dishonest desire, to desire to be a woman of the world. Here comes two of the banish'd duke's

pages.

Enter two Pages.

1 Page. Well met, honest gentleman. [a song;
Touch. By my troth, well met: Come, sit, sit, and
2 Page. We are for you; sit i' the middle.
1 Page. Shall we clap into 't roundly, without
hawking, or spitting, or saying we are hoarse;
which are the only prologues to a bad voice?
2 Page. I' faith, i' faith; and both in a tune, like
two gipsies on a horse.

Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untuneable.

1 Page. You are deceived, sir; we kept time, we lost not our time.

Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear such a foolish song. God be with you; and God mend your voices! Come, Audrey. [Ex.

SCENE IV.-Another Part of the Forest.
Enter Duke senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando,
Oliver, and Celia.

Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
Can do all this that he hath promised? [not;
Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do
As those that fear,-they hope and know they fear,
Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phebe.

Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is
urg'd:-

You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, [To the Duke.
You will bestow her on Orlando here?

Enter Touchstone and Audrey.

these couples are coming to the ark! Here comes a Faq. There is, sure, another flood toward, and pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.

Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all!

Faq. Good my lord, bid him welcome. This is the motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears.

Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. Faq. And how was that ta'en up? Touch. 'Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.

Faq. How seventh cause?-Good my lord, like this
Duke S. I like him very well.
[fellow.

Touch. God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like.
I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country
copulatives, to swear, and to forswear; according as
marriage binds and blood breaks: A poor virgin,
sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor
humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else
will: Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor-
house; as your pearl, in your foul oyster.
Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and senten-
tious.
[dulcet diseases.
Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such
Faq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find
the quarrel on the seventh cause?

Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed;-Bear your body more seeming, Audrey :-as thus, sir. I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: This is called the 'Retort courteous.' If I sent him word again it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: This is called the 'Quip modest.' If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: This is called the 'Reply churlish.' If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: This is called the Reproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: This is called the Counter-check quarrelsome:' and so to the 'Lie circumstantial,' and the 'Lie direct.' [well cut? Faq. And how oft did you say, his beard was not Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie circumstantial,' nor he durst not give me the Lie direct: and so we measured swords and parted.

L

Faq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees | I am the second son of old sir Rowland, of the lie?

Touch. O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have books for good manners. I will name you the degrees. The first, the Retort courteous; the second, the Quip modest; the third, the Reply churlish; the fourth, the Reproof valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with circumstance; the seventh, the Lie direct. All these you may avoid, but the lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and they shook hands, and swore brothers. Your Ifis the only peace-maker; much virtue in f

Faq. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at anything, and yet a fool.

Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and
under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit.
Enter Hymen, leading Rosalind and Celia.
Still Music.

Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven,
When earthly things made even
Atone together.

Good duke, receive thy daughter,
Hymen from heaven brought her,

Yea, brought her hither;

That thou might'st join her hand with his,
Whose heart within her bosom is.

Ros. To you I give myself, for I am yours.

[To Duke S. To you I give myself, for I am yours. [To Orlando. Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.

Orl. If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosa-
Phe. If sight and shape be true,
[lind.
Why then, my love adieu!

Ros. I'll have no father, if you be not he:-
[To Duke S.
[To Orl.
[To Phe.

I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.
Hym. Peace, ho! I bar confusion:

'T is I must make conclusion
Of these most strange events:
Here's eight that must take hands,
To join in Hymen's bands,

If truth holds true contents.
You and you no cross shall part:

[To Orlando and Rosalind.
You and you are heart in heart:

[To Oliver and Celia.
You [to Phebe] to his love must accord,
Or have a woman to your lord:-
You and you are sure together,

[To Touchstone and Audrey.

As the winter to foul weather.
Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,
Feed yourselves with questioning;
That reason wonder may diminish,
How thus we met, and these things finish.

SONG.

Wedding is great Juno's crown;

O blessed bond of board and bed!
'Tis Hymen peoples every town;
High wedlock then be honoured:
Honour, high honour and renown,
To Hymen, god of every town!
Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me;
Even daughter, welcome in no less degree.

Phe. I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. [To Sil.
Enter Jaques de Bois.

Faq.de B. Let me have audience for a word, ortwo;|

That bring these tidings to this fair assembly:
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day
Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot,
In his own conduct, purposely to take
His brother here, and put him to the sword:
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came ;
Where, meeting with an old religious man,
After some question with him, was converted
Both from his enterprise, and from the world:
His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
And all their lands restor'd to them again
That were with him exil'd: This to be true,
I do engage my life.
Duke S.
Welcome, young man ;
Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
To one his lands withheld; and to the other,
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
First, in this forest, let us do those ends
That here were well begun, and well begot:
And after, every of this happy number,
That have endur'd shrewd days and nights with us,
Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
According to the measure of their states.
Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity,
And fall into our rustic revelry:-

Play, music;-and you brides and bridegrooms all,
With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
Faq. Sir, by your patience; If I heard you rightly
The duke hath put on a religious life,

And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
Faq. de B. He hath.

Faq. To him will I: out of these convertites
There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.-
You to your former honour I bequeath; [To Duke S.
Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves it:-
You [to Orlando] to a love, that your true faith doth
merit :-

You [to Oliver] to your land, and love, and great
allies :-

You [to Silvius] to a long and well-deserved bed;-
And you [to Touchstone] to wrangling; for thy lov.
ing voyage
Is but for two months victuall'd:-So to your plea-
I am for other than for dancing measures. [sures;
Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay.

Faq. To see no pastime I:-what you would have
I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exit.
Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites,
And we do trust they 'll end in true delights.

EPILOGUE.

[A dance.

Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue: but it is no more unhandsome, than to see wine needs no bush,' 't is true, that a good play the lord the prologue. If it be true, that 'good needs no epilogue: Yet to good wine they do use good bushes; and good plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play! I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you and I charge you, O men, for the fove you bear to women, (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hates them,) that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.

[Exeunt.

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;
For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
And, when he says he is,-say, that he dreams,
This do, and do it kindly, gentle sirs;
It will be pastime passing excellent,
If it be husbanded with modesty.

As he shall think, by our true diligence,
1 Hun. My lord, I warrant you, we 'll play our part
He is no less than what we say he is.

Lord. Take him up gently and to bed with him;

And each one to his office, when he wakes.
Sirral, go see what trumpet 't is that sounds:
[Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds.
Belike, some noble gentleman, that means,
[Exit Servant.
Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

And then, with kind embracements, tempting | As lively painted as the deed was done.

[wood ;

[kisses, 3 Sery. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds: And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,

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 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 despatch'd with all the haste thou canst;
Anon I'll give thee more instructions.

[Exit Servant.

So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.
Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
Thou hast a lady far more beautiful

Than any woman in this waning age.

1 Serv. And, till the tears that she hath shed for
Like envious floods o'er-ran her lovely face, thee,
She was the fairest creature in the world;
And yet she is inferior to none.

Sly. Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
Or do I dream, or have I dream'd till now?
I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;

I smell sweet savours, and I feel soft things:-
Upon my life, I am a lord, indeed;
And not a tinker, nor Christopher Sly.
Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale. [hands?
2 Serv. Will 't please your mightiness to wash your
[Servants present an ewer, bason, and napkin.
O, how we joy to see your wit restor'd!

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 thein: haply, my presence
May well abate the over-merry spleen,
Which otherwise would grow into extremes. [Exe.
SCENE II.-A Bedchamber in the Lord's House.
O, that once inore you knew but what you are !
Sly is discovered in a rich night-gown, with At-These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
tendants; some with apparel, others with bason, Or, when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept.
ewer, and other appurtenances.
Enter Lord, Sly. These fifteen years? by my fay, a goodly nap.
dressed like a servant.
But did I never speak of all that time?

conserves?

Sly. For God's sake, a pot of small ale. [sack? 1 Serv. Will 't please your lordship drink a cup of 2 Serv. Will 't please your honour taste of these [day? 3 Serv. What raiment will your honour wear toSly. I am Christophero Sly. Call not me-honour, nor lordship: I never drank sack in my life; and if you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef: Ne'er ask me what raiment I 'll wear : for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay, sometime, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my | toes look through the overleather.

[our!

1 Serv. O yes, my lord; but very idle words:--
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
And rail upon the hostess of the house ;
And say, you would present her at the leet,
Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house. [maid;
3 Serv. Why, sir, you know no house, nor no such
Nor no such men, as you have reckon'd up,-
As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell ;
And twenty more such names and men as these,"
w nich never were, for no man ever saw.
Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends !
All. Amen.

Sly. I thank thee; thou shalt not lose by it.
Enter the Page, as a lady, with Attendants.
Page. How fares my noble lord?

Lord. Heaven cease this idle humour in your hon-
O, that a mighty man of such descent,
Of such possessions, and so high esteem,
Should be infused with so foul a spirit!
Sly. What! would you make me mad? Am not I
Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath; by
birth a pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by trans-
mutation a bear-herd, and now by present profes-Sly.
sion a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat alewife
of Wincot, if she know me not: if she say I am not
fourteen pence on the score for sheer ale, score me
up for the lyingest knave in Christendom. What:
I am not bestraugth: Here's——

I Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn.
2 Serv. O, this it is that makes your servants droop.
Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred shun your
As beaten hence by your strange lunacy. [house,
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,

[Music.

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 trimin'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 inake the welkin answer them,
And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
1 Serv. Say, thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are
As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe. [as swift
2 Serv. Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee
Adonis, painted by a running brook ; [straight
And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

Lord. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid;
And how she was beguiled and surpris'd,

Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
Where is my wife?

Page. 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 goodman.
Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and hus-
I am your wife in all obedience.
Sly. I know it well: What must I call her?

Lord. Madam.

[band;

[ladies.

Sly. Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?
Lord. Madam, and nothing else; so lords call
Sly. Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd,
And slept above some fifteen years or more.
Page. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me;
Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.

Sly. 'T is much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
Madam, undress you, and come now to bed.
Page. 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 expressly 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 so
long. But I would be loath to fall into my dreams
again. I will therefore tarry, in despite of the flesh
and the blood.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Your honour's players, hearing your amend
Are come to play a pleasant comedy, [ment,
For so your 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 merriinent,
Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life.