Ralph: Welcome back, everyone. Before the break, we found ourselves at a London tavern, when this gentleman walked in. 

Lord: Tender well my hounds. And breathe, Merriman. The poor cur is embossed. 

Ralph: Embossed? Oh, I have a note about that. 

Lord: Make sure my hounds are well taken care of. 

Ralph: Oh, yeah. That sounds like a good thing to do. 

Lord: You should have seen them today. Silver picked up the scent, even at its coldest, right at the hedge corner. But they need their rest. I intend to take them out again tomorrow. 

Ralph: We'll have someone check on that. But we should tell the audience who you are. 

Lord: I'm a lord. Surely, that's obvious. 

Ralph: A lord? 

Lord: Yeah. I own a mansion. I'm in charge of everything. I supervise the attendants, the servants, the huntsmen. Somebody's got to do it. 

Ralph: Well, yes, I suppose. But it's really only because you own everything and they don't. 

Lord: Yes, of course. Oh, my. Oh. What do we have here? Is he dead? 

Ralph: Oh, no. At least I don't think so. 

Lord: Drunk? 

Ralph: Definitely drunk. You'd have to be to sleep that well. 

Lord: How beastly. Looks like a pig lying there, like an image of death. 

Ralph: Really? It's just a drunk guy asleep. 

Lord: Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image. 

Ralph: Aren't you being a little dramatic? 

Lord: I got an idea. Let's play a trick on this guy. 

Ralph: Play a trick on him? 

Lord: Yeah, check this out. What if we dressed him up in fine clothes, put rings on his fingers, presented him with a delicious banquet of fine foods, and had my attendants ready on him when he wakes? Don't you think, if we did all that, he might forget he was some poor schmuck? 

Ralph: Well, he'd be a little confused, I'm sure. But that's a little bit mean, don't you think, to play that kind of a trick on someone? 

Lord: Don't be silly. It'll be hilarious. Attendants. Take this guy up to my room and put him in bed as he were just waking up. And clean him up a little too, perfume and everything-- the whole works. And if he talks to you, treat him with the utmost reverence. Ask him what he needs, what he wants to wear, if he wants to go hunting or for a ride. Say whatever it is that might convince this man that he was a mighty lord. Go on now. Oh, and when he wakes up, bring him back here. Might as well have everyone enjoy the joke. 

Ralph: I'm not sure our audience will find this that funny. 

Lord: Are you kidding? Oh, this is hilarious. And it's going viral for sure. 

Ralph: Go viral? How does he even know that term? 

Lord: Oh, what a pleasant surprise. Well, should we get back to it? 

Ralph: Back to it-- get back to what? 

Lord: The show. This is a show about hunting, isn't it? And you did invite the right person, if I do say so myself. I'm rather good at it, tracking, riding, killing. 

Ralph: That all sounds very interesting, but actually, this is a show about-- 

[HORNS PLAYING] 

Ralph: What was that? 

Lord: Relax, it just means someone's arrived. Probably some nobleman looking for a place to spend the night. 

Ralph: Well, that's never happened before. What's that? Really? 

Lord: Someone's arrived, right? 

Ralph: Yes, actually. It sounds like a traveling group of actors. That's weird. 

Lord: Some players. Really? Oh, this is too good to be true. Do they intend to stay? 

Ralph: It sounds like they're looking for work. 

Lord: I think I know this group of players actually. They are very, very good. They did this great play with a guy who was wooing this gentle woman. He was very well-cast. And it was so realistic. Oh, this is perfect. 

Ralph: It is? 

Lord: Tell them I have some sport in hand, wherein their cunning can assist me much. 

Ralph: I'm sorry? 

Lord: There is a lord will hear them play tonight. 

Ralph: Oh, you want them to put on a play for you? 

Lord: Not me, the lord. 

Ralph: Oh, dear. 

Lord: For that's something lords do. They hear plays. But the players should be warned that this lord might act a little strange, so it's important they ignore any odd behavior. Oh, fantastic. Send them to the buttery. 

Ralph: The buttery? 

Lord: You know, the storeroom with all the liquor and the food. 

Ralph: Oh, I think you mean the green room-- although I'm pretty sure we don't have any liquor in there. 

Lord: The players must receive a hearty welcome. Tell them to help themselves to anything they find. Oh, this is great. This is great. This is great. You know my page Barthol'mew? 

Ralph: No, actually, I don't. 

Lord: Well, go tell him I want him to dress like a lady, and be ready to join us when the drunkard wakes up. And we will call my page madam, and treat him like a lady. And he's seen plenty of ladies around their lord, so he knows how to act like one. And that's how he should act towards the drunkard. 

Ralph: You see, that's interesting. If I could just stop you right there for a second, you said that being a lady requires acting in a certain way, as if being a lady or a lord, or even a drunk peasant, is more about certain ways of acting, certain ways of dress and behavior-- more than it's about who you really are, if you get my point. 

Lord: I have no idea what you're talking about. But if you're suggesting that my being a lord or my lady being a lady is somehow not real, just some kind of act, well, of course, for real. That's why I'm a lord-- because I am one. 

Ralph: OK, but you're going to convince this drunk that he's a lord by dressing him up and surrounding him with certain things, having people behave in certain ways around him. One might think that being a lord has to do with all of that stuff more than anything else. 

Lord: But that's precisely what's so hilarious about it. He's going to think he's a lord, but he's not. Look, can we just get back to the final piece of the planning? 

Ralph: Oh, OK. Sure. 

Lord: So we're going to have Barthol'mew dressing as a lady. So he should speak softly and with low curtsy, and say, what is't Your Honor will command, wherein your lady and your humble wife may show her duty and make known her love? 

Ralph: Make known her love? Oh, dear. 

Lord: Mm-hmm, exactly. And so Barthol'mew can hug and kiss a little bit, and tell him how happy she is that he realizes he's actually a lord, when, for the past seven years, he thought to himself a poor and loathsome beggar. It would be awesome if he could cry when he's saying all that, but if he can't make himself cry on command, like all women can, he could stick a little piece of onion in his eye, and that would do the trick. So go on and tell him. 

Ralph: You do realize that I'm not one of your attendants? 

Lord: What's that? Oh, yes. Well, if you'd be willing to act like one, maybe that's all it takes. 

Ralph: Yeah, that's not what I meant. I'm not really willing to act like one either. 

Lord: Barthol'mew is going to be great at playing a lady. Oh, I can't wait to hear him call the drunkard husband. And I don't know how we're going to keep ourselves from laughing hysterically. I'd better go check on them, make sure they don't burst out laughing, so we can convince this poor loathsome peasant that he's a mighty lord. Are you going to stay here? 

Ralph: Oh, sure. I'll stay here. You know what? Let's take a break.