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heath, by birth a pedlar, by education a card- 20 maker, by transmutation a bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife 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 bestraught : here'sThird Serv. O, this it is that makes your lady
mourn ! Sec. Serv. O, this is it that makes your servants
25. sheer, unmixed. 23. Wincot, or Wilnecote, is a village near Tamworth.
26. bestraught, distracted. Cf. Lee, Life of W. Shake- 33. ancient, former. speare, p. 66.
43. trapp'd, arrayed.
Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. First Serv. Say thou wilt course; thy grey
hounds are as swift
Lord. We'll show thee Io as she was a maid,
Sly. Am I a lord ? and have I such a lady?
50. breathed, in full career. age in which beauty is declining. 65. waning, decaying ;
69. yet, even now,
And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly.
Sec. Serv. Will 't please your mightiness to wash
O, how we joy to see your wit restored !
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 seald
Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house.
no such maid,
84. of, during
95. Stephen Sly was the name
of resident at Stratford, 89. present, her at the leet,
variously described in
the accuse her before the manorial
records as a labourer and as court.
servant to W. Combe.' A quarts, quart Joan Sly was subsequently measures bearing an official (1630) fined by the Stratford stamp as a guarantee that they magistrates for breaking the were such.
Sabbath by travelling (Lee).
Which never were nor no man ever saw.
Enter the Page as a lady, with Attendants. Page. How fares my noble lord ? Sly. Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer
enough. Where is
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 good
Page. My husband and my lord, my lord and
Sly. I know it well. What must I call her ?
Page. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
Page. Thrice-noble lord, let me entreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two,
99. amends, amendment.
Or, if not so, until the sun be set :
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 Messenger. Mess. Your honour's players, hearing your
Sly. Marry, I will, let them play it. Is not a comonty a Christmas gambold or a tumbling- 140 trick? Page. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing
stuff. Sly. What, household stuff? Page. It is a kind of history.
Sly. Well, we'll see 't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.