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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 goodman.
Page
My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
I am your wife in all obedience.
SLY
I know it well. What must I call her?
Lord
Madam.
SLY
Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?
Lord
'Madam,' and nothing else: so lords
call ladies.
SLY
Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd
And slept above some fifteen year or more.
Page
Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.
SLY
'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
Madam, undress you and come now to bed.
Page
Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
To pardon me yet for a night or two,
Or, if not so, until the sun be set:
For your physicians have expressly charged,
In peril to incur your former malady,
That I should yet absent me from your bed:
I hope this reason stands for my excuse.
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
Messenger
Your honour's players, heating your amendment,
Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For so your doctors hold it very meet,
Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy:
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
Page
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