2.Man. Wilt please your mightinesse to wash your hands: Oh how we ioy to see your wit restor'd, Oh that once more you knew but what you are: These fifteene yeeres you haue bin in a dreame, Or when you wak'd, so wak'd as if you slept Beg. These fifteene yeeres, by my fay, a goodly nap, But did I neuer speake of all that time 1.Man. Oh yes my Lord, but verie idle words, For though you lay heere in this goodlie chamber, Yet would you say, ye were beaten out of doore, And raile vpon the Hostesse of the house, And say you would present her at the Leete, Because she brought stone-Iugs, and no seal'd quarts: Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket Beg. I, the womans maide of the house 3.Man. Why sir you know no house, nor no such maid Nor no such men as you haue reckon'd vp, As Stephen Slie, and old Iohn Naps of Greece, And Peter Turph, and Henry Pimpernell, And twentie more such names and men as these, Which neuer were, nor no man euer saw Beg. Now Lord be thanked for my good amends All. Amen. Enter Lady with Attendants. Beg. I thanke thee, thou shalt not loose by it Lady. How fares my noble Lord? Beg. Marrie I fare well, for heere is cheere enough. Where is my wife? La. Heere noble Lord, what is thy will with her? Beg. Are you my wife, and will not cal me husband? My men should call me Lord, I am your good-man La. My husband and my Lord, my Lord and husband I am your wife in all obedience Beg. I know it well, what must I call her? Lord. Madam Beg. Alce Madam, or Ione Madam? Lord. Madam, and nothing else, so Lords cal Ladies Beg. Madame wife, they say that I haue dream'd, And slept aboue some fifteene yeare or more Lady. I, and the time seeme's thirty vnto me, Being all this time abandon'd from your bed Beg. 'Tis much, seruants leaue me and her alone: Madam vndresse you, and come now to bed La. Thrice noble Lord, let me intreat of you To pardon me yet for a night or two: Or if not so, vntill the Sun be set. For your Physitians haue expressely charg'd, In perill to incurre your former malady, That I should yet absent me from your bed: I hope this reason stands for my excuse Beg. I, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long: But I would be loth to fall into my dreames againe: I wil therefore tarrie in despight of the flesh & the blood Enter a Messenger. Mes. Your Honors Players hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant Comedie, For so your doctors hold it very meete, Seeing too much sadnesse hath congeal'd your blood, And melancholly is the Nurse of frenzie, Therefore they thought it good you heare a play, And frame your minde to mirth and merriment, Which barres a thousand harmes, and lengthens life Beg. Marrie I will let them play, it is not a Comontie, a Christmas gambold, or a tumbling tricke? Lady. No my good Lord, it is more pleasing stuffe Beg. What, houshold stuffe Lady. It is a kinde of history