Sly

I’ll drive you off, I swear.

Hostess

You’ll be locked up, scoundrel!

Sly

You tramp, the Slys are no scoundrels. Look us up in the history books. My family came to England with Richard Conquerer. So enough talk, let it go. Shut up!

Hostess

You won’t pay for the glasses you broke?

Sly

No, not a cent. Get out, Saint Jeronimy, go to your cold bed and warm yourself.

Hostess

I know what to do — I’ll get the police.

Sly

This officer, that officer — I’ll face him! I haven’t done anything wrong. I won’t move for anyone. Let him come! I welcome him.

Lord

Huntsman, watch over my hounds. Let Merriman breathe — the poor dog is exhausted. And tie up Clowder with the howling bitch. Did you see how Silver picked up the scent of the prey at the edge of the bushes, where it was weakest? I wouldn’t give that dog up for twenty pounds.

First Huntsman

Why, Belman is just as good, my lord; he pointed out the scent when it was completely lost, and twice today he picked it out when it was faintest. Trust me, I think he is the better dog.

Lord

You’re a fool. If Echo were as fast, he’d be worth a dozen Belmans. Anyway, feed them well and take good care of them: tomorrow I want to hunt again.

First Huntsman

I will, my lord.

Lord

Who’s this? Is he dead, or drunk? See if he’s breathing.

Second Huntsman

He’s breathing, my lord. If he weren’t drunk, he’d be too cold to sleep here.

Lord

Monstrous animal! Lying there like a pig! Grim death, how foul and ugly is your mirror-image, sleep! Gentlemen, I’ll play a prank on this drunken man. What do you think: if he were carried to a bed, dressed in fancy clothes, rings on his fingers, with delicious desserts nearby, and decked-out servants waiting for him to wake up — wouldn’t he forget who he was?

First Huntsman

Believe me, lord, he’d have no choice but to forget who he was.

Second Huntsman

Everything would seem strange and unfamiliar when he awoke.

Lord

Yes, as confusing as a nice dream or empty fantasy. So, bring him in and set up the trick. Carry him carefully to my finest bedroom, and decorate it with my fanciful paintings. Perfume his dirty hair with warm, clean water, and burn sweet-smelling wood to make the room smell sweet. Get music ready for when he wakes up, to make a pleasant and heavenly sound. And if he starts speaking, be ready right away, and with a deep bow, say, “What does your honor command?” Someone should attend to him with a silver basin full of rose-water and strewn with flowers; someone else should carry a pitcher, and someone else a hand-towel, and say, “Will it please your lordship to cool your hands?” Someone be ready with an expensive suit, and ask him what he wants to wear; someone else tell him about his hunting dogs and his horses. And tell him that his wife is upset about his madness. Convince him that he’s been a lunatic, and when he says he must be crazy now, tell him he’s been dreaming: for he’s most certainly a mighty lord. Do all this, but do it kindly, gentlemen. It’ll be an especially excellent gag, if we pull it off with subtlety.

First Huntsman

My lord, I promise we’ll play our part, and our attentiveness will make him think he is as noble as we say he is.

Lord

Bring him up to bed carefully, and take your positions when he wakes up.

Servant, go see why that trumpet sounds.

It’s probably some noble gentleman on his travels, who wants to rest here.

So? Who is it?

Servingman

If it pleases you, your honor, they’re actors who offer their services to your lordship.

Lord

Tell them to come here.

Welcome, fellows.

Players

Thank you, your honor.

Lord

Do you plan to stay here tonight?

First Player

If it pleases you, your lordship, to accept our services.

Lord

I accept with all my heart. I remember this fellow, ever since he played a farmer’s oldest son. In that play, you wooed a gentlewoman very well. I’ve forgotten your name, but that part was perfect for you, and you performed it convincingly.

Second Player

I think you’re talking about Soto.

Lord

That’s right! You played that role excellently. Well, you’ve come at the right time, especially since I have some entertainment planned, and your skills would really help. There will be a lord in your audience tonight. But I’m suspicious of your self-control. When you see his odd behavior (he’s never seen a play), you might burst into laughter, offending him. Let me tell you, sirs, if you even smile he’ll get upset.

First Player

No problem, my lord: we can contain ourselves, even if he’s the most eccentric man in the world.

Lord

Go, servant, take them to the pantry and make them all feel welcome. They should lack nothing that my house can provide.

Servant, go to Barthol’mew, my page, and dress him up like a lady in every way. Then bring him to the drunkard’s bedroom, and call him “madam”, and give him your respect. Tell him I said this: if he wants to win my love, he should conduct himself honorably — the way he’s seen noble ladies act in front of their lords. He should treat the drunkard the same way: with humble words and a low curtsy, he should say, “What does your honor command, so that I, your lady and your humble wife, can show my duty and convince you of my love?” And then when he comes towards the drunkard, he should give him loving hugs and tempting kisses, put his head on the drunkard’s chest, and cry. Tell him to cry like a woman who’s overjoyed to see her noble lord healthy again, after seven years of seeing him as a poor, repulsive beggar. And if my page doesn’t have women’s ability to weep on command, an onion will do the trick. If he puts it in a napkin and brings it close to his face, he won’t be able to stop his eyes from watering. Go make this happen as fast as you can. I’ll give you more instructions soon.

I know the boy will easily take on the grace, voice, stride, and action of a lady. I can’t wait to hear him call the drunkard “husband”! I hope my men will hold in their laughter as they treat this peasant like a lord… I’ll go in to help them. Hopefully, my presence will suppress their urge to laugh. Otherwise, they won’t be able to contain themselves.