A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 09

by Unknown

SCAENA QUARTA.

LINGUA, MENDACIO.

LIN. What, art thou there, Mendacio? pretty rascal!
Come let me kiss thee for thy good deserts.

MEN. Madam, does't take? Have they all tasted it?

LIN. All, all, and all are well-nigh mad already.
O, how they stare and swear, and fume, and brawl!
Wrath gives them weapons; pots and candlesticks,
Joint stools and trenchers, fly about the room,
Like to the bloody banquet of the centaurs.
But all the sport's to see what several thoughts
The potion works in their imaginations.
For Visus thinks himself a ——, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

SCAENA QUINTA.

APPETITUS, MENDACIO, LINGUA.

APP. So ho, Mendacio! so ho, so ho!

MEN. Madam, I doubt they come; yonder is Appetitus. You had best be gone, lest in their outrage they should injure you. [Exit LINGUA.] How now, Hunger? How dost thou, my fine maypole, ha?

APP. I may well be called a maypole, for the Senses do nothing but dance a morrice about me.

MEN. Why, what ails them? Are they not (as I promised thee) friends with thee?

APP. Friends with me! nay, rather frenzy. I never knew them in such a case in all my life.

MEN. Sure, they drank too much, and are mad for love of thee.

APP. They want Common Sense amongst them. There's such a hurlyburly. Auditus is stark deaf, and wonders why men speak so softly that he cannot hear them. Visus hath drunk himself stark blind, and therefore imagineth himself to be Polyphemus. Tactus is raging mad, and cannot be otherwise persuaded but he is Hercules furens. There's such conceits amongst them.

SCAENA SEXTA.

VISUS, APPETITUS, MENDACIO.

VIS. O, that I could but find the villain Outis[302],
Outis the villain, that thus blinded me!

MEN. Who is this? Visus?

APP. Ay, ay, ay; otherwise called Polyphemus.

VIS. By heaven's bright sun, the day's most glorious eye,
That lighteneth all the world but Polypheme.
And by mine eye, that once was answerable
Unto that sun, but now's extinguished—

MEN. He can see to swear, methinks.

VIS. If I but once lay hands upon the slave,
That thus hath robb'd me of my dearest jewel,
I'll rend the miscreant to a thousand pieces,
And gnash his trembling members 'twixt my teeth,
Drinking his live-warm blood to satisfy
The boiling thirst of pain and furiousness,
That thus exasperates great Polypheme.

MEN. Pray thee, Appetitus, see how he grasps for that he would be loth to find.

APP. What's that? a stumblingblock?

VIS. These hands, that whilom tore up sturdy oaks,
And rent the rock that dash'd out Acis' brains,
Bath'd[303] in the stole bliss of my Galatea,
Serve now (O misery!) to no better use,
But for bad guides to my unskilful feet,
Never accustom'd thus to be directed.

MEN. As I am a rogue, he wants nothing but a wheel to make him the true picture of fortune; how say'st? what, shall we play at blind-man's-buff with him?

APP. Ay, if thou wilt; but first I'll try whether he can see?

VIS. Find me out Outis, search the rocks and woods,
The hills and dales, and all the coasts adjoining,
That I may have him, and revenge my wrong.

APP. Visus, methinks your eyes are well enough.

VIS. What's he that calls me Visus? dost not know—

[They run about him, playing with him, and abusing him.

APP. To him, Mendacio, to him, to him.

MEN. There, there, Appetitus, he comes, he comes; ware, ware, he comes; ha, ha, ha, ha!

[VISUS stumbles, falls down, and sits still.

SCAENA SEPTIMA.

MENDACIO, APPETITUS, TACTUS, with a great blackjack in his hand.

MEN. Is this he that thinks himself Hercules?

APP. Ay, wilt see me outswagger him?

MEN. Ay, do, do; I love not to sport with such mad playfellows: tickle him, Appetitus; tickle him, tickle him. [Exit MENDACIO.

TAC. Have I not here the great and puissant club,
Wherewith I conquer'd three-chapp'd Cerberus?

APP. Have I not here the sharp and warlike teeth,
That at one breakfast quail'd thrice-three hogs' faces?

TAC. And are not these Alcides' brawny arms,
That rent the lion's jaws, and kill'd the boar?

APP. And is not this the stomach that defeated
Nine yards of pudding and a rank[304] of pies?

TAC. Did not I crop the sevenfold hydra's crest,
And with a river cleans'd Augaea's stable?

APP. Did not I crush a sevenfold custard's crust,
And with my tongue swept a well-furnish'd table?

TAC. Did not these feet and hands o'ertake and slay
The nimble stag and fierce impetuous bull?

APP. Did not this throat at one good meal devour
That stag's sweet venison and that strong bull's beef?

TAC. Shall Hercules be thus disparaged?
Juno! you pouting quean, you louring trull,
Take heed I take you not; for by Jove's thunder
I'll be reveng'd.

[APPETITUS draws VISUS backward from TACTUS.

APP. Why, Visus, Visus, will you be kill'd? away, away.

[Exit VISUS.

TAC. Who have we here? see, see, the giant Cacus
Draws an ox backward to his thievish den.
Hath this device so long deluded me?
Monster of men, Cacus, restore my cattle,
Or instantly I'll crush thy idle coxcomb,
And dash thy doltish brains against thy cave.

APP. Cacus! I Cacus? ha, ha, ha! Tactus, you mistake me;
I am yours to command, Appetitus.

TAC. Art Appetitus? Th'art so; run quickly, villain;
Fetch a whole ox to satisfy my stomach.

APP. Fetch an ass to keep you company.

TAC. Then down to hell: tell Pluto, prince of devils,
That great Alcides wants a kitchen wench
To turn his spit. Command him from myself
To send up Proserpine; she'll serve the turn.

APP. I must find you meat, and the devil find you cooks!
Which is the next[305] way?

TAC. Follow the beaten path, thou canst not miss it.
'Tis a wide causeway that conducteth thither,
An easy track, and down-hill all the way.
But if the black prince will not send her quickly,
But still detain her for his bedfellow,
Tell him I'll drag him from his iron chair
By the steel tresses, and then sew him fast
With the three furies in a leathern bag,
And thus will drown them in the ocean.
He pours the jack of beer upon APPETITUS.

APP. You had better keep him alive to light tobacco-pipes, or to sweep chimneys.

TAC. Art thou not gone? nay, then I'll send thy soul
Before thee; 'twill do thy message sooner. [Beats him.

APP. Hercules, Hercules, Hercules! do not you hear Omphale? hark how she calls you, hark!

TAC. 'Tis she indeed, I know her sugar'd voice:
Omphale, dear commandress of my life,
My thoughts' repose, sweet centre of my cares,
Where all my hopes and best desires take rest.
Lo! where the mighty son of Jupiter
Throws himself captive at your conquering feet!
Do not disdain my voluntary humbleness:
Accept my service, bless me with commanding.
I will perform the hardest imposition,
And run through twelve new labours for thy sake.
Omphale, dear commandress of my life.

APP. Do you not see how she beckons to you to follow her? Look how she holds her distaff, look ye?

TAC. Where is she gone, that I may follow her?
Omphale, stay, stay, take thy Hercules!

APP. There, there, man, you are right.

[Exit TACTUS.

SCAENA OCTAVA.

APPETITUS solus.

APP. What a strange temper are the Senses in!
How come their wits thus topsy-turvy turn'd?
Hercules Tactus, Visus Polypheme!
Two goodly surnames have they purchased.
By the rare ambrosia[306] of an oyster-pie,
They have got such proud imaginations,
That I could wish I were mad for company:
But since my fortunes cannot stretch so high,
I'll rest contented with this wise estate.

SCAENA NONA.

APPETITUS: [to him enter] AUDITUS with a candlestick.

APP. What, more anger? Auditus got abroad too?

AUD. Take this abuse at base Olfactus' hands?
What, did he challenge me to meet me here,
And is not come? well, I'll proclaim the slave
The vilest dastard that e'er broke his word.
But stay, yonder's Appetitus.

APP. I pray you, Auditus, what ails you?

AUD. Ha, ha!

APP. What ails you?

AUD. Ha! what say'st thou?

APP. Who hath abused you thus?

AUD. Why dost thou whisper thus? Canst not speak out?

APP. Save me, I had clean forgotten. Why are you so angry, Auditus?

AUD. Bite us! who dare bite us?

APP. I talk of no biting; I say, what's the matter between Olfactus and you?

AUD. Will Olfactus bite me? do, if he dares; would he would meet me here according to his promise! Mine ears are somewhat thick of late; I pray thee, speak out louder.

APP. Ha, ha, ha, ha! this is fine, i'faith: ha, ha, ha! Hear you, have you lost your ears at supper?

AUD. Excellent cheer at supper, I confess it;
But when 'tis sauc'd with sour contentions,
And breeds such quarrels, 'tis intolerable.

APP. Pish, pish, this is my question: hath your supper spoiled your hearing?

AUD. Hearing at supper? tell not me of hearing?
But if thou saw'st Olfactus, bring me to him.

APP. I ask you, whether you have lost your hearing?

AUD. O, dost thou hear them ring? what a grief is this
Thus to be deaf, and lose such harmony.
Wretched Auditus, now shalt thou never hear
The pleasing changes that a well-tun'd chord
Of trolling bells will make, when they are rung.

APP. Here's ado indeed! I think he's mad, as well as drunk or deaf.

AUD. Ha, what's that?

APP. I say you have made me hoarse with speaking so loud.

AUD. Ha, what say'st thou of a creaking crowd?[307]

APP. I am hoarse, I tell you, and my head aches.

AUD. O, I understand thee! the first crowd was made of a horse-head.
'Tis true, the finding of a dead horse-head
Was the first invention of string instruments,
Whence rose the gittern, viol, and the lute:
Though others think the lute was first devis'd
In imitation of a tortoise-back,
Whose sinews, parched by Apollo's beams,
Echo'd about the concave of the shell:
And seeing the shortest and smallest gave shrill'st sound,
They found out frets, whose sweet diversity
(Well-touched by the skilful learned fingers)
Raiseth so strange a multitude of chords.
Which their opinion many do confirm,
Because Testado signifies a lute.
But if I by no means—

APP. Nay, if you begin to critic once, we shall never have done.

[Exit APPETITUS, and carries away AUDITUS perforce.

SCAENA DECIMA.

CRAPULA, a fat-bellied slave, clothed in a light veil of sarsanet, a garland of vine-leaves on his head, &c. SOMNUS in a mantle of black cobweb lawn down to the foot, over a dusky-coloured taffeta coat, and a crown of poppy-tops on his head, a company of dark-coloured silk scarfs in one hand, a mace of poppy in the other, leaving his head upon a pillow on CRAPULA'S shoulders.

CRA. Somnus, good Somnus, sweet Somnus, come apace!

SOM. Eh, O, O; are you sure they be so? oho, oho, oho; eh, waw?
What good can I do? ou, hoh, haw.

CRA. Why, I tell you, unless you help—
[SOMNUS falls down and sleeps.
Soft son of night, right heir to quietness,
Labour's repose, life's best restorative,
Digestion's careful nurse, blood's comforter,
Wit's help, thought's charm, the stay of Microcosm,
Sweet Somnus, chiefest enemy to care:
My dearest friend, lift up thy lumpish head,
Ope thy dull eyes, shake off this drowsiness,
Rouse up thyself.

SOM. O Crapula, how now, how now! O, O, how; who's there?
Crapula, speak quickly, what's the matter?

CRA. As I told you, the noble Senses, peers of Microcosm,
Will eftsoon fall to ruin perpetual.
Unless your ready helping-hand recure them.
Lately they banqueted at Gustus' table,
And there fell mad or drunk, I know not whether;
So that it's doubtful in these outrageous fits,
That they'll murder one another.

SOM. Fear it not.
If they have 'scap'd already, bring me to them
Or them to me; I'll quickly make them know
The power of my large-stretched authority.
These cords of sleep, wherewith I wont to bind
The strongest arm that e'er resisted me,
Shall be the means whereby I will correct
The Senses' outrage and distemperature.

CRA. Thanks, gentle Somnus, I'll go seek them out,
And bring them to you soon as possible.

SOM. Despatch it quickly, lest I fall asleep for want of work.

CRA. Stand still, stand still! Visus, I think, comes yonder.
If you think good, begin and bind him first;
For, he made fast, the rest will soon be quiet.

[Exit CRAPULA.

SCAENA UNDECIMA.

VISUS, SOMNUS.

VIS. Sage Telemus, I now too late admire
Thy deep foresight and skill in prophecy,
Who whilom told'st me, that in time to come
Ulysses should deprive me of my sight.
And now the slave, that march'd in Outis' name,
Is prov'd Ulysses; and by this device
Hath 'scap'd my hands, and fled away by sea,
Leaving me desolate in eternal night.
Ah, wretched Polypheme! where's all thy hope,
And longing for thy beauteous Galatea?
She scorn'd thee once, but now she will detest
And loathe to look upon thy dark'ned face;
Ah me, most miserable Polyphemus!
But as for Ulysses, heaven and earth
Send vengeance ever on thy damned head,
In just revenge of my great injury!
[SOMNUS binds him.
Who is he that dares to touch me? Cyclops, come,
Come, all ye Cyclops, help to rescue me.
[SOMNUS charms him; he sleeps.

SOM. There rest thyself, and let thy quiet sleep
Restore thy weak imaginations.

SCAENA DUODECIMA.

LINGUA, SOMNUS, VISUS.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! O, how my spleen is tickled with this sport
The madding Senses make about the woods!
It cheers my soul, and makes my body fat,
To laugh at their mischances: ha, ha, ha, ha!
Heigho, the stitch hath caught me: O, my heart!
Would I had one to hold my sides awhile,
That I might laugh afresh: O, how they run,
And chafe, and swear, and threaten one another!
[SOMNUS binds her.
Ay me, out, alas! ay me, help, help, who's this that binds me?
Help, Mendacio! Mendacio, help! Here's one will ravish me.

SOM. Lingua, content yourself, you must be bound.

LIN. What a spite's this? Are my nails pared so near? Can I not scratch his eyes out? What have I done? What, do you mean to kill me? Murder, murder, murder!

[She falls asleep.

SCAENA DECIMA TERTIA.

GUSTUS, with a voiding knife[308] in his hand.
SOMNUS, LINGUA, VISUS.

GUS. Who cries out murder? What, a woman slain!
My Lady Lingua dead? O heavens unjust!
Can you behold this fact, this bloody fact,
And shower not fire upon the murderer?
Ah, peerless Lingua! mistress of heavenly words,
Sweet tongue of eloquence, the life of fame,
Heart's dear enchantress! What disaster, fates,
Hath reft this jewel from our commonwealth?
Gustus, the ruby that adorns the ring,
Lo, here defect, how shalt thou lead thy days,
Wanting the sweet companion of thy life,
But in dark sorrow and dull melancholy?
But stay, who's this? inhuman wretch!
Bloodthirsty miscreant! is this thy handiwork?
To kill a woman, a harmless lady?
Villain, prepare thyself;
Draw, or I'll sheathe my falchion in thy sides.
There, take the guerdon[309] fit for murderers.

[GUSTUS offers to run at SOMNUS, but being
suddenly charmed, falls asleep.

SOM. Here's such a stir, I never knew the Senses in such disorder.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! Mendacio, Mendacio! See how Visus hath broke his forehead against the oak yonder, ha, ha, ha!

SOM. How now? is not Lingua bound sufficiently? I have more trouble to make one woman sleep than all the world besides; they are so full of tattle.

SCAENA DECIMA QUARTA.

SOMNUS, CRAPULA, LINGUA, VISUS, GUSTUS, AUDITUS pulling OLFACTUS by the nose, and OLFACTUS wringing AUDITUS by the ears.

AUD. O, mine ears, mine ears, mine ears!

OLF. O, my nose, my nose, my nose!

CRA. Leave, leave, at length, these base contentions:
Olfactus, let him go.

OLF. Let him first loose my nose.

CRA. Good Auditus, give over.

AUD. I'll have his life that sought to kill me.

SOM. Come, come, I'll end this quarrel; bind them[310], Crapula.

[They bind them both.

SCAENA DECIMA QUINTA.

TACTUS, with the robe in his hand, SOMNUS,
CRAPULA, LINGUA, GUSTUS, OLFACTUS VISUS, AUDITUS.

TAC. Thanks, Dejanira, for thy kind remembrance,
'Tis a fair shirt: I'll wear it for thy sake.

CRA. Somnus, here's Tactus, worse than all his fellows:
Stay but awhile, and you shall see him rage!

SOM. What will he do? see that he escapes us not.

TAC. 'Tis a good shirt: it fits me passing well:
'Tis very warm indeed: but what's the matter?
Methinks I am somewhat hotter than I was,
My heart beats faster than 'twas wont to do,
My brain's inflam'd, my temples ache extremely; O, O!
O, what a wildfire creeps among my bowels!
Aetna's within my breast, my marrow fries,
And runs about my bones; O my sides! O my sides!
My sides, my reins: my head, my reins, my head!
My heart, my heart: my liver, my liver, O!
I burn, I burn, I burn; O, how I burn
With scorching heat of implacable fire!
I burn extreme with flames insufferable.

SOM. Sure he doth but try how to act Hercules.

TAC. Is it this shirt that boils me thus? O heavens!
It fires me worse, and heats more furiously
Than Jove's dire thunderbolts! O miserable!
They bide less pain that bathe in Phlegeton!
Could not the triple kingdom of the world,
Heaven, earth, and hell, destroy great Hercules?
Could not the damned spite[311] of hateful Juno,
Nor the great dangers of my labours kill me?
Am I the mighty son of Jupiter,
And shall this poison'd linen thus consume me?
Shall I be burnt? Villains, fly up to heaven,
Bid Iris muster up a troop of clouds,
And shower down cataracts of rain to cool me;
Or else I'll break her speckled bow in pieces.
Will she not? no, she hates me like her mistress.
Why then descend, you rogues, to the vile deep.
Fetch Neptune hither: charge him bring the sea
To quench these flames, or else the world's fair frame
Will be in greater danger to be burnt,
Than when proud Phaeton rul'd the sun's rich chariot.

SOM. I'll take that care the world shall not be burnt,
If Somnus' cords can hold you. [SOMNUS binds him.

TAC. What Vulcan's this that offers to enchain
A greater soldier than the god of war?[312]

SOM. He that each night with bloodless battle conquers
The proudest conqueror that triumphs by wars.

CRA. Now, Somnus, there's but only one remaining,
That was the author of these outrages.

SOM. Who's that? is he under my command?

CRA. Yes, yes, 'tis Appetitus; if you go that way and look about those thickets, I'll go hither, and search this grove. I doubt not but to find him.

SOM. Content.

[Exeunt SOMNUS et CRAPULA.

SCAENA DECIMA SEXTA.

APPETITUS IRASCIBILIS with a willow in his hand, pulled up
by the roots, SOMNUS, CRAPULA. The Senses all asleep.

APP. So now's the time that I would gladly meet
These madding Senses that abus'd me thus;
What, haunt me like an owl? make an ass of me?
No, they shall know I scorn to serve such masters,
As cannot master their affections.
Their injuries have chang'd my nature now;
I'll be no more call'd hungry parasite,
But henceforth answer to the wrathful name
Of Angry Appetite. My choler's up.
Zephyrus, cool me quickly with thy fan,
Or else I'll cut thy cheeks. Why this is brave,
Far better than to fawn at Gustus' table
For a few scraps; no, no such words as these—
By Pluto, stab the villain, kill the slave:
By the infernal hags I'll hough[313] the rogue,
And paunch the rascal that abus'd me thus.
Such words as these fit angry Appetite.

Enter CRAPULA.

CRA. Somnus, Somnus, come hither, come hither quickly, he's here, he's here!

APP. Ay, marry is he, sirrah, what of that base miscreant Crapula?

CRA. O gentle Appetitus!

APP. You muddy gulch[314], dar'st look me in the face,
While mine eyes sparkle with revengeful fire? [Beats him.

CRA. Good Appetitus!

APP. Peace, you fat bawson[315], peace,
Seest not this fatal engine of my wrath?
Villain, I'll maul thee for thine old offences,
And grind thy bones to powder with this pestle!
You, when I had no weapons to defend me,
Could beat me out of doors; but now prepare:
Make thyself ready, for thou shalt not 'scape.
Thus doth the great revengeful Appetite
Upon his fat foe wreak his wrathful spite.

[APPETITUS heaveth up his club to brain CRAPULA; but
SOMNUS in the meantime catcheth him behind, and binds him.

SOM. Why, how now, Crapula?

CRA. Am I not dead? is not my soul departed?

SOM. No, no, see where he lies,
That would have hurt thee: fear nothing.

[SOMNUS lays the Senses all in a circle, feet to feet,
and wafts his wand over them.

So rest you all in silent quietness;
Let nothing wake you, till the power of sleep,
With his sweet dew cooling your brains enflam'd,
Hath rectified the vain and idle thoughts,
Bred by your surfeit and distemperature;
Lo, here the Senses, late outrageous,
All in a round together sleep like friends;
For there's no difference 'twixt the king and clown,
The poor and rich, the beauteous and deform'd,
Wrapp'd in the veil of night and bonds of sleep;
Without whose power and sweet dominion
Our life were hell, and pleasure painfulness.
The sting of envy and the dart of love,
Avarice' talons, and the fire of hate,
Would poison, wound, distract, and soon consume
The heart, the liver, life, and mind of man.
The sturdy mower, that with brawny arms
Wieldeth the crooked scythe, in many a swath
Cutting the flowery pride on velvet plain,
Lies down at night, and in the weird[316] folds
Of his wife's arms forgets his labour past.
The painful mariner and careful smith,
The toiling ploughman, all artificers,
Most humbly yield to my dominion:
Without due rest nothing is durable.
Lo, thus doth Somnus conquer all the world
With his most awful wand, and half the year
Reigns o'er the best and proudest emperors.
Only the nurslings of the Sisters nine
Rebel against me, scorn my great command;
And when dark night from her bedewed[317] wings
Drops sleepy silence to the eyes of all,
They only wake, and with unwearied toil
Labour to find the Via Lactea,
That leads to the heaven of immortality;
And by the lofty towering of their minds,
Fledg'd with the feathers of a learned muse,
They raise themselves unto the highest pitch,
Marrying base earth and heaven in a thought.
But thus I punish their rebellion:
Their industry was never yet rewarded:
Better to sleep, than wake and toil for nothing.

[Exeunt SOMNUS and CRAPULA.

SCAENA DECIMA SEPTIMA.

The five Senses, LINGUA, APPETITUS, all asleep and dreaming; PHANTASTES, HEURESIS.

AUD. So ho, Rockwood;[318] so ho, Rockwood; Rockwood, your organ: eh, Chanter, Chanter; by Acteon's head-tire, it's a very deep-mouthed dog, a most admirable cry of hounds. Look here, again, again: there, there, there! ah, ware counter![319]

VIS. Do you see the full moon yonder, and not the man in it? why, methinks 'tis too-too evident: I see his dog very plain, and look you, just under his tail is a thorn-bush of furze.

GUS. 'Twill make a fine toothpick, that lark's heel there: O, do not burn it.

PHA. Boy Heuresis, what think'st thou I think, when I think nothing?

HEU. And it please you, sir, I think you are devising how to answer a man that asks you nothing.

PHA. Well-guessed, boy; but yet thou mistook'st it, for I was thinking of the constancy of women[320]. [APPETITUS snores aloud.] Beware, sirrah, take heed; I doubt me there's some wild boar lodged hereabout. How now? methinks these be the Senses; ha? in my conceit the elder brother of death has kissed them.

TAC. O, O, O, I am stabbed, I am stabbed; hold your hand, O, O, O.

PHA. How now? do they talk in their sleep? are they not awake, Heuresis?

HEU. No, questionless, they be all fast asleep.

GUS. Eat not too many of those apples, they be very flative[321].

OLF. Foh, beat out this dog here; foh, was it you, Appetitus?

AUD. In faith, it was most sweetly-winded, whosoever it was; the warble is very good, and the horn is excellent.

TAC. Put on, man, put on; keep your head warm, 'tis cold.

PHA. Ha, ha, ha, ha? 'st: Heuresis, stir not, sirrah.

APP. Shut the door, the pot runs over, sirrah. Cook, that will be a sweet pasty, if you nibble the venison so.

GUS. Say you so? is a marrow-pie the Helena of meats? give me't; if I play not Paris, hang me. Boy, a clean trencher.

APP. Serve up, serve up; this is a fat rabbit, would I might have the maidenhead of it: come, give me the fish there; who hath meddled with these maids, ha?

OLF. Fie, shut your snuffers closer for shame; 'tis the worst smell that can be.

TAC. O, the cramp, the cramp, the cramp: my leg, my leg!

LIN. I must abroad presently: reach me my best necklace presently.

PHA. Ah, Lingua, are you there?

AUD. Here take this rope, and I'll help the leader close with the second bell. Fie, fie, there's a goodly peal clean-spoiled.

VIS. I'll lay my life that gentlewoman is painted: well, well, I know it; mark but her nose: do you not see the complexion crack out? I must confess 'tis a good picture.

TAC. Ha, ha, ha! fie, I pray you leave, you tickle me so: oh, ha, ha, ha! take away your hands, I cannot endure; ah, you tickle me, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

VIS. Hai, Rett, Rett, Rett, now, bird, now,—look about that bush, she trussed her thereabout.—Here she is, ware wing, Cater,[322] ware wing, avaunt.

LIN. Mum, mum, mum, mum.

PHA. Hist, sirrah, take heed you wake her not.

HEU. I know, sir, she is fast asleep, for her mouth is shut.

LIN. This 'tis to venture upon such uncertainties; to lose so rich a crown to no end, well, well.

PHA. Ha, ha, ha! we shall hear anon where she lost her maidenhead: 'st, boy, my Lord Vicegerent and Master Register are hard by: run quickly; tell them of this accident, wish them come softly.

[Exit HEURESIS.

LIN. Mendacio, never talk farther, I doubt 'tis past recovery, and my robe likewise: I shall never have them again. Well, well.

PHA. How? her crown and her robe, never recover them? hum, was it not said to be left by Mercury, ha? I conjecture here's some knavery,—fast locked with sleep, in good faith. Was that crown and garment yours, Lingua?

LIN. Ay, marry were they, and that somebody hath felt, and shall feel more, if I live.

PHA. O, strange, she answers in her sleep to my question: but how come the Senses to strive for it?

LIN. Why, I laid it on purpose in their way, that they might fall together by the ears.

PHA. What a strange thing is this!

SCAENA DECIMA OCTAVA.

The Senses, APPETITUS, and LINGUA, asleep. PHANTASTES, COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORIA, ANAMNESTES.

PHA. Hist, my lord: softly, softly! here's the notablest piece of treason discovered; how say you? Lingua set all the Senses at odds, she hath confessed it to me in her sleep.

COM. SEN. Is't possible, Master Register? did you ever know any talk in their sleep.

MEM. I remember, my lord, many have done so very oft; but women are troubled especially with this talking disease; many of them have I heard answer in their dreams, and tell what they did all day awake.

ANA. By the same token, there was a wanton maid, that being asked by her mother what such a one did with her so late one night in such a room, she presently said that—

MEM. Peace, you vile rake-hell, is such a jest fit for this company? no more, I say, sirrah.

PHA. My lord, will you believe your own ears? you shall hear her answer me as directly and truly as may be. Lingua, what did you with the crown and garments?

LIN. I'll tell thee, Mendacio.

PHA. She thinks Mendacio speaks to her; mark now, mark how truly she will answer. What say you, madam?

LIN. I say Phantastes is a foolish, transparent gull; a mere fanatic napson[323], in my imagination not worthy to sit as a judge's assistant.

COM. SEN. Ha, ha, ha! how truly and directly she answers.

PHA. Faw, faw, she dreams now; she knows not what she says. I'll try her once again. Madam, what remedy can you have for your great losses?

LIN. O, are you come, Acrasia? welcome, welcome! boy, reach a cushion, sit down, good Acrasia: I am so beholding to you, your potion wrought exceedingly; the Senses were so mad: did not you see how they raged about the woods?

COM. SEN. Hum, Acrasia? is Acrasia her confederate? my life, that witch hath wrought some villainy. [LINGUA riseth in her sleep, and walketh.] How is this? is she asleep? have you seen one walk thus before?

MEM. It is a very common thing; I have seen many sick of the peripatetic disease.

ANA. By the same token, my lord, I knew one that went abroad in his sleep, bent his bow, shot at a magpie, killed her, fetched his arrow, came home, locked the doors, and went to bed again.

COM. SEN. What should be the reason of it?

MEM. I remember Scaliger told me the reason once, as I think thus: the nerves that carry the moving faculty from the brains to the thighs, legs, feet, and arms, are wider far than the other nerves; wherefore they are not so easily stopped with the vapours of sleep, but are night and day ready to perform what fancy shall command them.

COM. SEN. It may be so. But, Phantastes, inquire more of Acrasia.

PHA. What did you with the potion Acrasia made you?

LIN. Gave it to the Senses, and made them as mad as—well, if I cannot recover it—let it go. I'll not leave them thus. [She lies down again.

COM. SEN. Boy, awake the Senses there.

ANA. Ho, ho, Auditus, up, up; so ho, Olfactus, have at your nose; up, Visus, Gustus, Tactus, up: what, can you not feel a pinch? have at you with a pin.

TAC. O, you stab me, O!

COM. SEN. Tactus, know you how you came hither?

TAC. No, my lord, not I; this I remember,
We supp'd with Gustus, and had wine good store,
Whereof I think I tasted liberally.
Amongst the rest, we drunk a composition
Of a most delicate and pleasant relish,
That made our brains somewhat irregular.

SCAENA DECIMA NONA.

The Senses awake, LINGUA asleep, COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORY,
PHANTASTES, ANAMNESTES, HEURESIS drawing CRAPULA.

HEU. My lord, here's a fat rascal was lurking in a bush very suspiciously: his name, he says, is Crapula.

COM. SEN. Sirrah, speak quickly what you know of these troubles.

CRA. Nothing, my lord, but that the Senses were mad, and that Somnus, at my request, laid them asleep, in hope to recover them.

COM. SEN. Why then, 'tis too evident Acrasia, at Lingua's request, bewitched the Senses: wake her quickly, Heuresis.

LIN. Heigho, out alas, ah me, where am I? how came I here? where am I? ah!

COM. SEN. Lingua, look not so strangely upon the matter; you have confessed in your sleep, that with a crown and a robe you have disturbed the Senses, using a crafty help to enrage them: can you deny it?

LIN. Ah me, most miserable wretch! I beseech your lordship forgive me.

COM. SEN. No, no, 'tis a fault unpardonable.
[He consults with MEMORY.

PHA. In my conceit, Lingua, you should seal up your lips when you go to bed, these feminine tongues be so glib.

COM. SEN. Visus, Tactus, and the rest, our former sentence concerning you we confirm as irrevocable, and establish the crown to you, Visus, and the robe to you, Tactus; but as for you, Lingua—

LIN. Let me have mine own, howsoever you determine, I beseech you.

COM. SEN. That may not be: your goods are fallen into our hands; my sentence cannot be recalled: you may see, those that seek what is not theirs, oftentimes lose what's their own: therefore, Lingua, granting you your life, I commit you to close prison in Gustus's house, and charge you, Gustus, to keep her under the custody of two strong doors, and every day, till she come to eighty years of age, see she be well-guarded with thirty tall watchmen, without whose licence she shall by no means wag abroad. Nevertheless, use her ladylike, according to her estate.

PHA. I pray you, my lord, add this to the judgment—that, whensoever she obtaineth licence to walk abroad, in token the tongue was the cause of her offence, let her wear a velvet hood, made just in the fashion of a great tongue. In my conceit, 'tis a very pretty emblem of a woman.

TAC. My lord, she hath a wild boy to her page, a chief agent in this treason: his name's Mendacio.

COM. SEN. Ha! well, I will inflict this punishment on him for this time: let him be soundly whipped, and ever after, though he shall strengthen his speeches with the sinews of truth, yet none shall believe him.

PHA. In my imagination, my lord, the day is dead to the great toe, and in my conceit it grows dark, by which I conjecture it will be cold; and therefore, in my fancy and opinion, 'tis best to repair to our lodgings.

[Exeunt omnes, praeter ANAMNESTES et APPETITUS.

SCAENA VIGESSIMA.

ANAMNESTES, APPETITUS, asleep in a corner.

ANA. What's this? a fellow whispering so closely with the earth? so ho, so ho, Appetitus? faith, now I think Morpheus himself hath been here. Up, with a pox to you; up, you lusk[324]? I have such news to tell thee, sirrah: all the Senses are well, and Lingua is proved guilty: up, up, up; I never knew him so fast asleep in my life. [APPETITUS snorts.] Nay, then, have at you afresh. [Jogs him.

APP. Jog me once again, and I'll throw this whole mess of pottage into your face; cannot one stand quiet at the dresser for you.

ANA. Ha, ha, ha! I think 'tis impossible for him to sleep longer than he dreams of his victuals. What, Appetitus, up quickly: quickly up, Appetitus, quickly, sirrah. [Jogs him.

APP. I'll come presently; but I hope you'll stay till they be roasted: will you eat them raw?

ANA. Roasted? ha, ha, ha, ha! up, up, up, away!

APP. Reach the sauce quickly; here's no sugar: whaw, whaw, O, O, O!

ANA. What, never wake? [Jogs him.] Wilt never be? Then I must try another way, I see.

EPILOGUE

Judicious friends, it is so late at night,
I cannot waken hungry Appetite:
Then since the close upon his rising stands,
Let me obtain this at your courteous hands;
Try, if this friendly opportunity
Of your good-will and gracious plaudite,
With the thrice-welcome murmur it shall keep,
Can beg this prisoner from the bands of sleep.

[Upon the plaudite APPETITUS awakes, and runs in after ANAMNESTES.