University of Virginia Library

Actus. 5.

Scena 1.

Mendatio with a bottle in his hand.
Men.

My Lady Lingua is iust like one of these leane-witted
Comedians, who disturbing all to the fift Act, bring downe some
Mercurie or Iupiter in an Engine, to make all friends. So shee,
but in a contrary manner, seeing her former plots dispurposed,
sends me to an old Witch called Acrasia to helpe to wreake her

spight vpon the Senses: the olde hag after manie an incricled
circumstance, and often naminge of the direfull Hecate, and
Demogorgon, giues mee this bottle of wine mingled with
such hellish drugges and forcible words, that whosoeuer
drinkes of it shall bee presentlie possest with an inraged and
mad kinde of anger.

SCENA. 2.

Mendacio, Crapvla, Appetitvs crying.
Mend.

What's this Crapula beating Appetitus out of dores?
ha!

Crap.

You filthie long Crane, you meager slaue, will you kil
our guests with blowing continuall hunger in them? (tiffe, toffe,
tiffe, toffe) the Senses haue ouercharged their stomackes already,
and you Sirra serue them vp a fresh appetite with euerie newe
dish, they had burst their gutts if thou hadd'st staied but a
thought longer? (tiffe, toffe, tiffe, toffe,) bee gon or ile set thee away,
begon ye gnawe-bone, raw-bone, rascal.

Mend.

Then my deuise is cleane spoiled. Appetitus should
haue beene as the bowle to present this medecine to the Senses,
and now Crapula hath beaten him out of dores? what shall
I doe?

Crap.

Away Sirra, (tiff toff, tiff. &c.

App.

Well Crapula, well, I haue deserued better at your
hands then so, I was the man you knowe first brought you into
Gustus his seruice, I lin'd your gutts there, and you vse me thus?
but grease a fat sowe, &c.

Crap.

Do'st thou talke (tiff, toff) hence, hence tiff, tiff, hence
auaunt curre, auaunt you dogge!

Exit Crapula.

App.

The belching gor-bellie hath wellnigh kill'd me; I am
shut out of dores finely, well this is my comfort, I may walke
now in libertie my owne pleasure.

Mend.

Appetitus, Appetitus!

App.

Ah Mendacio, Mendacio,

Mend.

Why how now man, how now? how ist (canst not
speake.

App.

Faith I am like a bag-pipe, that neuer sound's but when
the bellie is full.

Mend.

Thou emptie, and com'st from a feast.

App.

From a fray I tell thee Mendacio. I am now iust like
the Ewe that gaue sucke to a wolfes whelpe. I haue nurst vp my
fellowe Crapula so longe, that hee's growne strong enough to
beate me.

Mend.

And whither wilt thou go, now thou art banish't out
of seruice?

App.

Faith Ile trauell to some College or other in an Vniuersitie.

Mend.

Why so?

App.

Because Appetitus is well beloued among'st Schollers,
for there I can dine and suppe with them & rise againe as good
friends as we sate downe, Ile thither questionles.

Mend.

Hear'st thou? giue me thy hand; by this hand I loue
thee; go too then, thou shalt not forsake thy maisters thus, I say
thou shalt not.

App.

Alas I am verie loth; but how should I helpe it?

Mend.

Why take this bottle of wine, come on, go thy waies
to them againe.

App.

Ha, ha, ha, what good will this doe?

Mend.

This is the Nepenthe that reconciles the God's: doe
but let the Senses tast of it, and feare not, theile loue thee as well
as euer they did.

App.

I pray thee where had'st it?

Mend.

My Ladie gaue it me to bring her: Mercury stale it
from Hebe for her: thou knowest there were som iarres betwixt
her and thy maisters, & with this drinke she would gladlie wash
out all the reliques of their disagreement: Nowe because I loue
thee, thou shalt haue the grace of presenting it to them and so
come in fauour againe.

App.

It smelles well I would faine begin to them;

Mend.

Nay staie no longer least they haue supp't before
thou come.

App.

Mendacio, howe shall I requite thy infinite curtesie.

Men.

Nay praie thee leaue, go catch occasion by the foretop,

but hearst thou? as soone as it is presented, round my Lady
Lingua in the eare, and tell her of it.

App.
I will, I will, I will, Adue, adue, adue,
Exit Appeti.

SCENA. 3.

Mendacio solus.
Men.
Why this is better then I could haue wisht it,
Fortune I thinke is falne in loue with me,
Answering so right mine expectation.
By this time Appetite is at the Table.
And with a lowly Cringe presents the Wine,
To his olde Maister Gustus, now he takes it,
And drinkes perchance to Lingua, she craftily
Kisses the Cup, but lets not downe a drop,
And giues it to the rest; 'tis sweet, theile swallow it,
But when 'tis once descended to the stomack,
And sends vp noisome vapours to the braine,
'Twill make them swagger gallantly, theile rage
Most strangely, or Acrasias Art deceiues her,
When if my Lady stirre her nimble tongue,
And closely sowe contentious words amongst them,
O what a stabbing there will be? what bleeding?

SCENA. 4.

Lingva. Mendacio.
Ling.
What art thou there Mendacio? prettie rascall,
Come let me kisse thee for thy good deserts.

Men.
Madame do'st take? haue they all tasted it?

Ling.
All, all, and all are well nigh mad already:
Oh how they stare, and sweare, and fume, and brawle,
Wrath giues them weapons; Pots and Candle-sticks,
Ioin'd stooles and Trenchers flie about the roome,
Like to the bloudie banquet of the Centaures,
But all the sport is to see what seuerall thoughts
The potions works in their Imaginations.
For Uisus thinkes himselfe; a ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

SCENA. 5.

Appetitvs, Mendatio, Lingva.
Ap.
So-hoe Mendatio! so-hoe, so-hoe!

Men.

Madame I doubt they come, yonder is Appetitus, you
had best begon, least in their outrage they should iniure you.
(Exit Lingua)
How now Hunger? how do'st thou my fine
may-pole, ha?

Ap.

I may well be calld a may-pole: for the Senses do nothing
but dance a morice about mee.

Men.

Why? what ayles them? are they not (as I promised
thee) friends with thee.

Ap.

Friends with mee? nay rather frenzy: I neuer knewe
them in such a case, in all my life.

Men.

Sure they dranke too much, and are mad for loue of
thee.

Ap.

They want common Sense among'st them: there's such
a hurly burly Auditus is starke deafe, and wonders why Men
speake so softly that he cannot here them: Visus hath drunke
himselfe starke blind, and therefore imagineth himselfe to bee
Polyphemus: Tactus is raging mad, and cannot bee otherwise
perswaded, but hee is Hercules furens; there's such conceits
amongst them.

SCENA. 6.

Visvs. Appetitvs. Mendatio.
Vis.
O that I could but finde the villaine Outis,
Outis the villaine, that thus blinded mee.

Men.
Who is this? Visus?

Ap.
I, I, I, otherwise callled Polyphemus.

Vis.

By heauens bright Sunne, the dayes most glorious
eye,

That lightneth all the world but Polypheme,
And by myne eye that once was answerable
Vnto that Sunne, but now's extinguished.

Men.
He can see to sweare mee thinkes?

Vis.
If I but once lay hands vpon the slaue,
That thus hath rob'd mee of my dearest iewell,
Ile rend the Miscreant into a thousand peeces.
And gnash his trembling members 'twixt my teeth,
Drinking his liue-warme blood to satisfie,
The boyling thirst of paine and furiousnesse,
That thus exasperates great Polypheme.

Men.

Pray thee Appetitus see how hee graspes for that hee
would be loath to finde.

Ap.
What's that? a stumbling block?

Vis,
These hands, that whilom tore vp sturdy Oakes,
And rent the rock that dasht out Acis braines,
Both in the stole-blisse of my Galatea,
Serue now (ô misery) to no better vse,
But for bad guides to my vnskilfull feete.
Neuer accustomed thus to be directed.

Men.

As I am a rogue, hee wants nothing but a wheele, to
make him the true picture of Fortune; how saist? what shall
we play at blind-man-buffe with him?

Ap.
I if thou wilt, but first ile trie whether he can see?

Vis.
Find me out Outis, search the rocks, and woods,
The hilles and dales, and all the Coast's adioyning.
That I may haue him, and reuenge my wrong,

Ap.
Visus mee thinkes your eyes are well enough.

Vis.
What's hee that calles mee Visus? do'st not know.

(They run about him, playing with him, and abusing him.)
Ap.
To him Mendatio, to him, to him.

Men.

There, there Appetitus, hee comes, he comes; ware
ware, he comes, ha, ha, ha, ha.

(Visus stumbles falles downe, and sits still.

SCENE. 7.

Mendatio. Appetitvs, Tactvs with a great black Iack in his hand.
Men:

Is this he that thinkes himselfe Hercules?

Ap.

I, willt see mee out-swagger him?

Men.

I do, do, I loue not to sport with such mad play-fellowes;
tickle him Appetitus, tickle him, tickle him.

Exit Mendatio

Tac.
Haue I not here the great and puissant Club.
Wherewith I conquered three Chopt Cerberus.

App.
Haue I not here the sharpe, and warlike teeth.
That at one break-fast quaild thrice three hogg's faces?

Tac.
And are not these Alcides brawny armes,
That rent the Lyons iawes and kill'd the boare?

Ap.
And is not this the Stomacke that defeated
Nyne yards of pudding, and a ranke of pyes?

Tac.
Did not I crop the seauen-fold Hydras crest,
And with a riuer clensed Augeas stable?

Ap.
Did not I crush a seuen-fold Custards crust,
And with my tongue, swept a well furnisht table?

Tac.
Did not these feete and hands oretake and slay,
The nimble Stagge, and fierce impetuous bull?

Ap.
Did not this throat at one good meale deuoure,
That Stagges sweet venison, and that strong Bulls beefe?

Tac.
Shall Hercules be thus disparaged?
Iuno! you pouting Queane, you lowring trull?
Take heede I take you not; for by Ioues thunder
Ile be reueng'd

(Appetitus drawes Uisus backward from Tactus.
Ap.
Why Visus, Visus, will you be kill'd? away, away.

Exit Visus.
Tac.
Who haue we here, see, see the Giant Cacus,
Drawes an Oxe backward to his theeuish den,
Hath this deuise so long deluded mee?
Monster of men Cacus restore my cattle,
Or instantly Ile crush thy idle Cox-combe.
And dash thy doltish braines against thy Caue.

Ap.
Cacus, I Cacus? ha, ha, ha. Tactus you mistake mee.
I am yours to command, Appetitus.

Tac.
Art Appetitus? Th'art so; run quickly villaine,
Fetch a whole Oxe to satisfie my stomacke.

Ap.
Fetch an Asse to keepe you company.

Tac.
Then downe to Hell, tell Pluto Prince of Diuells,
That great Alcides want's a kitchen wench.
To turne his spit, command him from my selfe!
To send vp Proserpine shee'l serue the turne.

Ap.
I must finde you meate and the Diuell finde you cookes
Which is the next way?

Tac.
Follow the beaten path thou canst not misse it
Tis a wide Causie that conducteth thether,
An easie tract and downe hill all the way,
But if the blacke Prince will not send her quickly,
But still detaine her for his bed-fellow,
Tell him Ile drag him from his iron chayre,
By the steele tresses, and then sow him fast,
With the three furies in a letherne bag.
And thus will drowne them in the Ocean.

(he powres the Iack of beere vpon Appetitus)
Ap.

You had better keepe him aliue to light Tobacco-pipes
or to sweepe chimneys.

Tac.
Art thou not gone, nay then ile send thy soule,
Before thee, 'twill do thy message sooner (tiffe, tiffe.)

Ap.
Hercules, Hercules, Hercules? do not you heare Omphale?
Hearke how she calles you, hearke?

Tac.
Tis shee indeed I know her sugred voice?
Omphale deare Commandresse of my life
My thoughts repose, sweet Center of my cares
Where all my hopes, and best desires take rest.
Lo! where the mighty Sonne of Iupiter
Throwes himselfe Captiue at your conquering feete
Do not disdaine my voluntary humblenesse.
Accept my seruice, blesse me with commanding,
I will performe the hardest imposition
And run through twelue newe labours for thy sake.
Omphale deare commandresse of my life.

App.
Do you not see how she beckons to you to follow her?
Looke how she holds her distaffe, looke you?

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.

SCENE. 8.

Appetitvs Solus.
App.
What a strange temper are the Senses in?
How come their witts thus topsie turuie turn'd?
Hercules Tactus, Uisus Polypheme,
Two goodly surnames haue they purchased:
By the rare Ambrosian of an Oyster Pie;
They haue got such proud imaginations,
That I could wish I were mad for company:
But since my fortunes cannot stretch so high,
Ile rest contented with this wise estate.

SCEN. 9.

Appetitvs. Avditvs with a Candlestick.
App.
What more anger? Auditus got abroad too.

Avd.
Take this abuse at base Olfactus hands?
What did he challenge me to meete me here,
And is not come? well Ile proclaime the slaue,
The vilest dastard that ere broke his word;
But stay yonder's Appetitus.

App.
I pray you Auditus, what ailes you?

Avd.
Ha, ha!

App.
What ailes you?

Avd.
Ha! what saist thou?

App.
Who hath abus'd you thus?

Avd.
Why do'st thou whisper thus? Canst not speake out?

App.

Saue me I had cleane forgotten; why are you so angry
Auditus?

Av.

Bite vs, who dare bite vs?

Ap.

I talke of no bitting, I say whats the matter betweene
Olfactus and you?

Av.

Will Olfactus bite mee? do if he dares, would he would
meete me here according to his promise: Mine eares are somwhat
thicke of late, I pray thee speake out lowder.

Ap.

Ha ha ha ha this is fine i'faith: ha, ha, ha. Heare you,
haue you lost your eares at supper.

Av.
Excellent cheare at supper I confesse it:
But when 'tis sawc'd with sowre contentions,
And breeds such quarrells 'tis intollerable,

Ap.

Pish, pish this is my question. Hath your supper spoild
your hearing?

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

Ap,
I aske you whether you haue lost your hearing?

Av.
O dost thou heare them ring? what a griefe is this
Thus to be deafe, and loose such harmony?
Wretched Auditus nowe shalt thou neuer here
The pleasing changes that a well tun'd Corde,
Of trowling bells, will make, when they are true rung.

Ap.

Heer's a do indeed, I thinke he is mad, as well as drunk
or deafe.

Avd.
Ha, what's that.

Ap.
I say you haue made me hoarse with speaking so loude.

Avd.
Ha, what say'st thou of a creaking Crou'd?

Ap.
I am hoarce I tell you, and my head akes.

Av.
Oh I vnderstand thee! the first croud was made of a horse-head
Tis true, the finding of a dead horse-head,
Was the first inuention of string instruments,
Whence rose the Gitterme, Viall, and the Lute:
Though others thinke the Lute was first deuis'd,
In imitation of a Tortesse back
Whose sinewes parched by Apollo's beames,
Ecchoed about the concaue of the shell,
And seeing the shortest and smallest gaue shrillest sound,
They found out frets whose sweet diuersity
(Well couched by the skill-full learned fingers)
Raiseth so strange a multitude of Cordes.
Which their opinion many do confirme,
Because Testudo signifyes a Lute.
But if I by no meanes.—

Ap.

Nay if you begin to criticke once, wee shal neuer haue
done.

(Exit Appetitus and carries away Auditus perforce

SCEN. 10.

Crapvla a fat bellied slaue, clothed in a light vaile of Sarsnet, a Garland of vine-leaues on his head. &c. Somnvs in a mantle of blacke Cobweb-laune, downe to the foote ouer a duskie coloured taffata Coate, and a Crowne of poppy tops on his head, a company of darke coloured silke scarfs in one hand, a Mace of Poppey in the other, leaning his head vpon a pillow on Crapula's shoulders.
Cra.
Somnus, good Somnus, sweet Somnus, come a pace!

Som.
Hei-oh, oh, are you sure they be so? oho, ho, oho, hei, waw?
What good can I do? ou, hoh, hawe.

Cra.
Why I tell you vnlesse you helpe
(Somnus fals downe and sleepes)
Soft sonne of night, right heyre to Quietnesse,
Labours repose, lifes best restoratiue,
Digestions carefull Nurse, blouds Comforter,
Wits helpe, thoughts charme, the stay of Microcosme,
Sweet Somnus cheefest enemy to Care:
My dearest friend, liftvp thy lumpish head,
Ope thy dull eyes, shake of this drowsines,
Rowse vp thy selfe.

Somnvs.
O Crapula, how now, how now, oh oh howe whose there?
Crapula speake quickly what's the matter?

Cra.
As I told you, the noble Senses peeres of Microcosme;
Will eft soone fall to ruine perpetuall,
Vnlesse your readie helping hand recure them:
Lately they banqueted at Gustus table.
And there fell madde, or drunke, I know not whether,
So that it's doubtfull in these outragious fits,
That theile murther one another.

Som.
Feare it not if they haue scapt already,
Bring me to them, or them to me,
Ile quickly make them know the power,
Of my large stretcht authoritie.
These cordes of sleepe wherewith I wont to bind,
The strongest armes that ere resisted me,
Shall be the meanes, whereby I will correct
The Senses outrage, and distemperature.

Cra.
Thankes gentle Somnus, Ile go seeke them out,
And bring them to you soone as possible.

Som.
Dispatch it quickly least I fall a sleep for want of worke.

Cra.
Stand still, stand still? Uisus I thinke comes yonder.
If you thinke good, begin and bind him first:
For he made fast, the rest will soone be quiet.
Exit Crapula.

SCEN. 11.

Visvs. Somnvs.
Vis.
Sage Telemus, I now too late admire,
Thy deepe fore-sight and skill in Prophecie,
Who whilome toldst me, that in time to come
Ulisses should depriue me of my sight.
And now the slaue that marcht in Outis name,
Is prou'd Vlisses, and by this deuice,
Hath scapt my hands, and fled away by Sea,
Leauing me desolate in eternall night.
Ah wretched Polypheme, where's all thy hope,
And longing for thy beautious Galatea?
Shee scornd thee once, but now she will detest,
And loath to looke vpon thy darkned face:
Aye me most miserable Polyphemus.
But as for Ulisses, heauen and earth
Send vengeance euer on thy damned head.
In iust reuenge of my great iniurie.
Somnus binds him.
Who is he that dares to touch me? Cyclops come?
Come all yee Cyclop's helpe to rescue me.

Somnus charmes him, he sleepes.
Som.
There rest thy selfe and let thy quiet sleepe,
Restore thy weake immaginations.

SCEN. 12.

Lingva, Somnvs, Visvs.
Lin.
Ha, ha, ha: oh how my splene is tickled with this sporte.
The madding Senses make about the woods,
It cheeres my soule and makes my bodie fat:
To laugh at their mischances, ha, ha, ha, ha,
Heigh ho, the stitch hath caught me, oh my heart!
Would I had one to hold my sides a while,
That I might laugh a fresh: oh how they runne,
And chafe, and sweare, and threaten one another,
(Somnus bind's her.
Ay me, out alas, ay me help, help, who's this that bind's me?
Helpe Mendatio, Mendatio helpe, heres one will rauish me.

Som.
Lingua content your selfe you must be bound.

Ling.

What a spight's this? are my nailes par'd so neere?
Can I not scratch his eies out? What haue I done? what? doe
you meane to kill me? murder, murder, murder,

(she fall's a sleepe)

SCEN. 13.

Gvstvs with a voiding knife in his hand, Somnvs, Lingva, Visvs.
Gvst.
Who cries out murder! What a woman slaine?
My Ladie Lingua dead? oh Heauens iniust
Can you behold this fact, this bloudie fact!
And shower not fire vpon the murderer?
Ah peerelesse Lingua mistresse of heauenly words,
Sweete tongue of eloquence, the life of fame,
Heart's deare enchauntresse what disaster fates
Haue rest this Iewell from our common-wealth.
Gustus the rubie that adornes thy ringe,
Loe heere defect, how shalt thou lead thy daies,
Wanting the sweete Companion of thy life.
But in darke sorrowe and dull melancholie,
But staie? whose this? inhumane wretch:
Bloud-thirstie miscreant, is this thy handie worke?
To kill a woman, a harmelesse Ladie?
Villaine prepare thy selfe drawe, or ile sheath my faucheon in thy sides.
There take the guerdon fit for murderers.

Gustus offers to runne at Somnus but beeing suddainly charmed fall's a sleepe.
Som.

Heer's such a stirre I neuer knewe the Senses in such
disorder.

Ling.

Ha, ha, ha; Mendacio, Mendacio? See how Visus
hath broke his fore-head against the oake yonder, ha, ha, ha,
ha.

Som.

Howe now? Is not Lingua bound sufficientlie? I haue
more trouble to make one woman sleepe, then all the world besides
they be so full of tattle.

SCEN. 14.

Somnvs, Crapvla, (Lingva, Visvs, Gvstvs,) Avditvs, pulling Olfactvs by the nose, and Olfactvs wringing Avditvs by the eares.
Avd.
Oh mine eares, mine eares, mine eares.

Olf.
Oh my nose, my nose, my nose.

Crap.
Leaue, leaue at length these base contentions, Olfactus let him go?

Olf.
Let him first loose my nose?

Crap.
Good Auditus giue ouer?

Avd.
Ile haue his life that sought to kill mee.

Som.
Come, come Ile end this quarrell, bind him Crapula!

They binde them both.

SCEN. 15.

Tactvs, with the robe in his hand, Somnvs, Crapvla, Lingva, Gvstvs, Olfactvs, Visvs, Avditvs.
Tac.
Thankes Deianeira for thy kind remembrance,
Tis a faire shirt Ile weare it for thy sake.

Crap.
Somnus heer's Tactus worse then all his fellowes
Stay but a while and you shall see him rage!

Som.
What will he do? see that hee scapes vs not!

Tact.
Tis a good shirt, it fitt's me passing well,
Tis verie warme indeede, but whats the matter.
Me thinkes I am some-what hotter then I was,
My heart beates faster then twas wont to do
My braines enflamed, my temples ake extreamely, oh, oh,
Oh what a wild-fire creepes amonge my bowells:
Ætna's with in my breast, my marrowe fries,
And runnes about my bones, oh my sides:
My sides, my raines, my head my raines, my head;
My heart, my heart, my liuer, my liuer, oh,
I burne, I burne, I burne, oh how I burne:
With scorching heate of implacable fire,
I burne extreame with flames vnsufferable,

Som.
Sure he doth but trie how to act Hercules:

Tact.
Is it this shirt that boiles me thus? oh heauens,
It fires me worse, and heates more furiously
Then Ioues dire thunderbolts; oh miserable,
They bide lesse paine that bathe in Phlegeton;
Could not the triple kingdome of the world,
Heauen, earth and hell destroie great Hercules?
Could not the damned sprights of hatefull Iuno?
Nor the great daungers of my labours kill me?
Am I the mighty sonne of Iupiter?
And shall this poisned linnen thus consume me?
Shall I be burnt? villaines flie vp to heauen,
Bid Iris muster vp a troupe of cloudes,
And shower downe cataracts of raine to coole me?
Or elce Ile breake her speckled bowe in peeces?
Will she not? no she hates mee like her mistris;
Why then descend you roagues to the vile deepe,
Fetch Neptune hether, charge him bring the sea,
To quench these flames, or else the worlds faire frame:
Wilbe in greater danger to be burnt,
Then when proud Phaeton ruld the Sunnes rich Chariot.

Som.
Ile take that care the world shall not be burnt:
If Somnus cords can hold you.
Somnus binds him.

Tact.
What Vulcan's this that offers to inchaine,
A greater souldier then the God of Mars.

Som.
He that each night with bloudlesse battell conquers,
The proudest conquerour that triumphs by warrs:

Cra.
Now Somnus there's but onely one remayning,
That was the author of these outrages.

Som.
Who's that? is he vnder my Command?

Cra.

Yes, yes, yes, tis Appetitus; if you go that way, and
looke about those thickets, ile go hither, and search this groue,
I doubt not but to finde him?

Som.
Content.

Exeunt Somnus, et Crapula.

SCEN. 16.

Appetitvs, Irrascibilis, with a willowe in his hand pul'd vp by the rootes. Somnvs, Crapvla.
The Senses all a sleepe.
App.
So now's the time that I would gladly meete,
These madding Senses that abus'd mee thus;
What? haunt me like an owle? make an Asse of me?
No they shall know, I scorne to serue such masters,
As cannot master their affections,
Their iniuries haue chang'd my nature,
Now I'le be no more called hungry parasite:
But henceforth answere to the wrathfull name
Of angry Appetite, my choller's vp:
Zephirus coole me quickly with thy fanne,
Or elce Ile cut thy cheekes, why this is braue:
Farre better then to faune at Gustus table,
For a few scrappes, no, no, such words as these,
By Pluto stabbe the villaine, kill the slaue:
By the infernall hagges, Ile hough the rogue,
And paunch the rascall that abusd me thus,
Such words as these fitte angry Appetite.

Enter Crapvla.
Cra.

Somnus, Somnus, come hether, come hether quickly,
hee's here, hee's here.

App.

I marry is he sirra, what of that? base miscreant Crapula.

Cra.

O gentle Appetitus.

App.

You muddy gulche, darst looke me in the face, while
mine eyes sparkle, with reuengfull fire? (tiff, toff, tiff, toff,)

Cra.
Good Appetitus.

App.
Peace you fat bawson, peace, (tiff, toff, tiff, toff,)
Seest not this fatall engine of my wrath?
Villaine Ile maule thee for thine old offences,
And grinde thy bones to powder with this pestle:
You when I had no weapons to defend me,
Could beate me out of dores; but now prepare,
Make thy selfe ready, for thou shalt not scape.
Thus doth the great reuengefull Appetite,
Vpon his fatte foe, wreake his wrathfull spite.

Appetitvs heaueth vp his club to braine Crapvla, but Somnvs in the meane. time, catcheth him behind and binds him?
Som.
Why how now Crapula?

Cra.
Am I not dead? is not my soule departed?

Som.

No, no, see where he lyes, that would haue hurt thee?
feare nothing?

Somnus laies the Senses all in a circle, feete to feete, and wafts his wand ouer them,
So rest you all in silent quietnesse,
Let nothing wake you till the power of sleepe,
With his sweete dew, cooling your braines inflamed,
Hath rectified the vaine and idle thoughts,
Bred by your surfet, and distemperature:
Loe here the Senses late outragious,
All in a round together sleepe like friends,
For there's no difference twixt the King and Clowne,
The poore and rich, the beautious and deformed,
Wrapt in the vaile of night, and bonds of sleepe,
Without whose powre, and sweete dominion,
Our life were Hell, and pleasure painfulnesse,
The sting of enuie, and the dart of loue,
Auarice talons, and the fire of hate:
Would poison, wound, distract, and soone consume,
The heart, the liuer, life and minde of man;
The sturdie Mower, that with brawnie armes,
Wieldeth the crooked sithe, in many a swathe,
Cutting the flowrie pride, on the veluet plaine,
Lies downe at night, and in the weary folds
Of his wiues armes, forgets his labour past,
The painfull Marriner, and carefull Smith,
The toyling Plowman, all Artificers,
Most humbly yeeld to my dominion,
Without due rest, nothing is durable.
Loe thus doth Somnus conquer all the world
With his most awfull wand, and halfe the yeare
Raignes ouer the best and proudest Emperours.
Onely the nurslings of the Sisters nine,
Rebels against me, scorne my great command:
And when darke night from her bedewy wings,
Drops sleepie silence to the eyes of all,
They onely wake, and with vnwearied toile,
Labour to finde the Uia lactea,
That leads to the heauen of immortallitie,
And by the loftie towring of their minde,
Fledgd with the feathers of a learned muse,
They raise themselues vnto the highest pitch,
Marrying base earth, and heauen in a thought;
But thus I punish their rebellion,
Their industrie was neuer yet rewarded,
Better to sleepe then wake, and toile for nothing.

Exeunt Somnus & Crapula.

SCENA. 17.

The fiue Senses, Lingva, Appetitvs, all a sleepe, and dreaming, Phantastes, Hevresis.
Avd.

So ho Rocwood, so ho Rocwood, Rocwood, your Organ,
hay Chanter, Chanter, by Acteons hed-tyre it's a very deepe
mouth'd dogge, a most admirable crie of hounds, looke here,
againe, againe, there, there, there, ah ware counter.

Vis.

Do you see the full Moone yonder, and not the man in
it, why me thinkes 'tis too, too euident, I see his dogge very
plaine, and looke you, iust vnder his taile is a Thorne bush
of Furres.

Gvs.

'Twill make a fine tooth-pick: that Larkes heele
there, ô do not burne it.

Pha.

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

Hev.

And it please you sir, I thinke you are deuising how to
answer a man that askes you nothing.

Pha.

Well gest boy, but yet thou mistookst it, for I was
thinking of the constancie of women,

(Apetitus snoares alowd.

Beware sirra, take heede, I doubt me there's some wild Boare
lodged here about? how now? mee thinkes these be the Senses,
ha? in my conceit the elder brother of death has kist
them.

Tac.

Oh, oh, oh, I am stabd, I am stab'd, holde your hand,
oh, oh, oh.

Pha.

How now? doe they talke in their sleepe? are they not
awake Heuresis?

Hev.

No questionlesse, they be all fast a sleepe.

Gvst.

Eate not too many of those Apples, they bee very
flatiue?

Olf.

Foh, foh, beate out this Dogge heare, foh, was it you
Appetitus?

Avd.

In faith it was most sweetly winded, whosoeuer it
was, the warble is very good, and the horne is excellent?

Tac.

Put on man, put on, keepe your head warme, 'tis
cold.

Pha.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, st, Heuresis, stirre not sirra.

App.

Shut the doore, the potte runnes ouer, sirra Cooke
that will be a sweete Pastie, if you nibble the venison so?

Gvst.

Say you so, is a Marrow Pye the Helena of meates?
giue mee't, if I playe not Paris hang mee, Boye a cleane
Trencher?

App.

Serue vp, serue vp, this is a fatte Rabbet, would I
might haue the maiden-head of it, come giue me the fish there,
who hath medled with these maides? ha?

Ole.

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

Tac.

O the crampe, the crampe, the crampe, my legge, my
legge.

Ling.

I must abroad presently, reach mee my best Necklace
presently.

Pha.

Ah Lingua are you there?

Avd.

Here take this Rope, and Ile helpe the leader close
with the second Bell: Fie, fie, there is a goodly peale cleane
spoilde.

Vis.

Ile lay my life that Gentlewoman is painted: well, well
I know it, marke but her nose, doe you not see the complection
crack out, I must confesse 'tis a good picture.

Tac.

Ha, ha, ha, fie, I pray you leaue, you tickle me so, oh, ah,
ha, ha, take away your hands I cannot indure, ah you tickle me,
ah, ha, ha, ha, ah.

Vis.

Hai, rett, rett, rett, now bird, now,—looke about that
bush, she trust her thereabout,—here she is, ware wing Cater,
ware wing, auaunt.

Ling.

Mum, mum, mum, mum.

Pha.

st, sirra, take heede you wake her not.

Hev.

I knowe sir shee is fast a sleepe, for her mouth is
shutte.

Ling.

This 'tis, to venture vpon such vncertainties, to
loose so rich a Crowne to no end, well, well.

Pha.

Ha, ha, ha, wee shall here anon, where shee lost her

maiden-head, st, boy, my Lord Vicegerent, and Maister Register
are hard by, runne quickly, tell them of this accident, wish
them come softly.

Exit Heuresis.
Ling.

Mendatio, neuer talke farther, I doubt 'tis past recouery,
and my Robe likewise, I shall neuer haue them againe,
well, well.

Pha.

How? her Crowne, and her Roabe, neuer recouer
them? hum, wast not said to bee left by Memory? ha? I coniecture
here's some knauery—fast lockt with sleepe, in good faith.
Was that Crowne and Garment yours Lingua?

Ling.

I marry were they, and that some body hath felt, and
shall feele more, if I liue.

Pha.

O strange, she answers in her sleepe to my question, but
how come the Senses to striue for it?

Ling.

Why, I laide vpon purpose in their way, that they
might fall together by the eares.

Pha.

What a strange thing is this?

SCENA. 18.

The Senses, Appetitvs and Lingva a sleepe.
Phantastes. Comv. Sensvs. Memoria. Anamnestes.
Pha.

st, my Lord, softly, softly, here's the notablest peece of
treason discouered, how say you Lingua, set all the Senses at ods,
she hath confest it to me in her sleepe.

Com. Sen.

Ist possible Maister Register? did you euer know
any talke in their sleepe?

Mem.

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

Anam.

By the same token, there was a wanton maide, that
being askt by her Mother, what such a one did with her so late
one night in such a roome, she presently said, that—

Mem.

Peace you vilde rake hell, is such a iest fitte for this
company, no more I say sirra.

Pha.

My Lord will you belieue your owne eares, you shall
heare her answere me, as directly and truely as may be. Lingua,
what did you with the Crowne and garments.

Ling.

Ile tell thee Mendacio.

Pha.

Shee thinkes Mendacio speakes to her, marke
nowe, marke howe truely shee will answere: what say you Madame?

Ling.

I say Phantastes is a foolish transparent gull; a meere
fanatick nupson, in my immagination not worthie to sit as a Iudges
assistant.

Com. Sen.

Ha, ha, ha, howe truely and directly shee answeres.

Pha.

Faw, faw, she dreames now she knowes not what shee
saies, I trie her once againe: Madame? what remedie can you
haue for your greate losses?

Ling.

O are you come Acrasia? welcome, welcome, boy
reach a Cushion sit downe good Acrasia: I am so beholding to
you, your potion wrought exceedinglie, 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 villany,—
Lingua riseth in her sleepe, and walketh.
how's this? is shee a sleepe? haue you seene one walke thus
before?

Mem.

It is a very common thinge, I haue seene many sicke
of the Peripatetick disease.

Ana.

By the same token my Lord, I knewe one that went
abroad in his sleepe, bent his bowe, shot at a Magpie, kild
her, fetcht his arrowe, came home, lockt the doores, and went
to bed againe.

Com. Sen.

What should be the reason of it?

Mem.

I remember Scalliger told mee the reason once, as I
thinke thus: The nerues that carrie the mouing faculty, from
the braines, to the thighes, legges, feete, and armes, are wider
farre then the other nerues, wherfore they are not so easily stopt
with the vapours of sleepe, but are night and daie ready to performe
what fancy shall command them.

Com. Sen.

It may bee so, but Phantastes enquire more of Acrasia.

Pha.

What did you with the potion Acrasia made you:

Lin.

Gaue it to the Senses, and made them as madde as—
well, If I cannot recouer it—let it goe, Ile not leaue them
thus.

She lies downe againe.
Com. Sen.

Boy a wake the Senses there.

An.

Hoe, hoe, Auditus, vp, vp, so hoe, Olfactus haue at your
nose, vp Visus, Gustus, Tactus, vp: What can you not feele a
pinch? haue at you with a pinne.

Tac.

Oh, you stab me, oh,

Com. Sen.

Tactus, know you how you came hither:

Tac.

No my Lord, not I, this I remember,
We sup't with Gustus, and had wine good store,
Whereof I thinke I tasted liberally.
Amongst the rest, wee drunke a composition,
Of a most dellicate, and pleasant rellish,
That made our braynes, somewhat irregular.

SCEN. 19.

The Senses awake, Lingva asleepe, Commvnis Sensvs Memory, Phantastes, Anamnestes, Hevresis drawing Crapvla.
Hev.

My Lord, here's a fat rascall was lurking in a bushe
very suspitiously, his name he sayes is Crapula.

Com. Sen.

Sirrah, speake quickly what you knowe of these troubles,

Cra,

Nothing my Lord, but that the Senses were madde,
and that Somnus at my request layd them asleepe, in hope to
recouer them.

Com. Se.

Why then tis too euident, Acrasia at Lingua's request,
bewitcht the Senses, wake her quickly Heuresis.

Lin.

Heigh ho, out alas, aye mee, where am I? how came I
here? where am I? ah.

Com. Sen.

Lingua looke not so strangely vpon the matter,
you haue confest in your sleepe, that with a Crowne, and
a Roabe, you haue disturb'd the Senses, vsing a crafty helpe
to enrage them, can you deny it?

Lin.

Aye mee, most miserable wretch, I beseech your
Lordship forgiue me.

Com, Sen.

No, no, tis a fault vnpardonable.

(He consults with Memory)
Phan.

In my conceipt Lingua, you should seale vp
your lippes, when you go to bed, these Feminine tongues
be so glibbe.

Com. Sen.

Visus, Tactus, and the rest, our former sentence
concerning you, wee confirme as irreuocable, and establish
the Crowne to you Uisus, and the Roabe to you Tactus, but as
for you Lingua—

Lin.

Let mee haue mine owne, howsoeuer you determine,
I beseech you.

Com. Sen.

That may not bee, your goods are fallen into
our hands, my sentence cannot bee recall'd, you may see,
those that seeke what is not theirs, oftentimes loose what's
their owne: Therefore Lingua graunting you your life, I
commit you to close prison, in Gustus his house, and charge
you Gustus, to keepe her vnder the custody of two strong
doores, and euery day till she come to 80 yeares of age, see she
be well garded with 30. tall watchmen, without whose licence
shee shall by no meanes wagge abroad, neuerthelesse vse her
Lady-like, according to her estate.

Phan.

I pray you my Lord adde this to the iudgement
that whensoeuer she obtayneth licence to walke abroad, in
token the Tongue was the cause of her offence, let her
weare a veluet hood, made iust in the fashion of a great
Tongue, in my conceit 'tis a verye pritty Embleme of a
Woman,

Tac.

My Lord, shee hath a vild boy to her page, a cheefe
agent in this treason, his name's Mendatio.

Com. Sen.

Ha? well, I will inflict this punishment on him
for this time, let him be soundly whipt, and euer after though

he shall strengthen his speeches with the sinewes of Truth, yet
none shall beleeue him.

Pha.

In my imagination my Lord, the Day is dead to the
great toe, and in my conceit it growes darke, by which I coniecture
it will be cold, and therefore in my fancie, and opinion,
'tis best to repaire to our lodgings.

Exeunt omnes, præter Anamnestes & Appetitus.

SCENA. 20.

Anamnestes, Appetitvs a sleepe in a corner.
Ana.

What's this? a fellow whispering so closely with the
Earth? so, ho, so, ho: Appetitus? faith now I thinke Morpheus
himselfe hath beene here, vp with a poxe to you, vp you luske,
I haue such newes to tell thee sirra: all the Senses are well, and
Lingua is proued guilty, vp, vp, vp, I neuer knew him so fast a
sleepe in my life.

(Appetitus snorts.)
Nay then haue at you a fresh, (tiff, toff, tiff, toff.)

App.

Iogge me once againe, and Ile throw this whole messe
of pottage in your face, cannot one stand quiet at the dresser
for you?

Ana.

Ha, ha, ha, I thinke it's impossible for him to sleepe
longer then hee dreames of his victuals. What Appetitus, vp
quickly, quickly vp, Appetitus, quickly sirra, (toff, toff, toff, toff,)

App.

Ile come presently, but I hope youle stay till they bee
roasted, will you eate them rawe?

Ana.

Rosted? ha, ha ha, ha, vp, vp, vp, away,

App.

Reach the sauce quickly, here's no Sugar, whaw,
wam, oh, ou, oh.

Ana.

What neuer wake? (Tiffe, toff, tiff, toff,) wilt neuer be?
Then I must trie another way I see.