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?