Mess.
Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For so your doctors hold it very meet,
Seeing so much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
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 lenghtens life.

Sly.

Marry I will, let them play, is it not a commodity? a Christmas gambol, or a tumbling trick?

Lady.

No, my good lord, it is more pleasing stuff.

Sly.

What, houshold stuff?

Lady.

It is a kind of history.

Sly.

Well, we'll see't: come, Madam wife, sit by my side, and let the world slip, we shall ne'er be younger.