University of Virginia Library

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?