Page 1419 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 1419
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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. [115]
[Exeunt Attendants.]
Madam, undress you and come now to bed.
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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 charg’d, [120]
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 [125] tarry in despite of the flesh
and the blood.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER
Your honour’s players, hearing 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, [130]
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.
SLY
Marry, I will. Let them play it. Is not a comonty a [135] Christmas gambol
or a tumbling-trick?
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