Before an alehouse on a heath.Enter Hostess and SLY SLY I'll pheeze you, in faith.Hostess A pair of stocks, you rogue! SLY 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! Hostess You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? SLY No, not a denier.Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.Hostess I know my remedy; I must go fetch the third--borough.

Exit SLY 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 Lord 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.Lord 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.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.Lord 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.Lord 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: