[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?