GUS. My servant Appetitus followeth with them.
APP. Come, come, Bacchus, you are so fat; enter, enter.
PHA. Fie, fie, Gustus! this is a great indecorum to bring Bacchus alone; you should have made Thirst lead him by the hand.
GUS. Right, sir; but men nowadays drink often when they be not dry; besides, I could not get red herrings and dried neats' tongues enough to apparel him in.
COM. SEN. What, never a speech of him?
GUS. I put an octave of iambics in his mouth, and he hath drunk it down.
APP. Well done, muscadine and eggs stand hot. What, buttered claret? go thy way, thou hadst best; for blind men that cannot see how wickedly thou look'st—How now, what small, thin fellow are you here? ha?
BOY. Beer, forsooth: Beer, forsooth.
APP. Beer forsooth, get you gone to the buttery, till I call for you; you are none of Bacchus's attendants, I am sure; he cannot endure the smell of malt. Where's Ceres? O, well, well, is the march-pane broken? Ill luck, ill luck! Come hang't, never stand to set it together again. Serve out fruit there.
[Enter boys with a banquet, marmalade, sweets, &c.; deliver it round among the gentlewomen, and go out.]