A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 9 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 508 pages of information about A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 9.

LIN.  Let me have mine own, howsoever you determine, I beseech you.

COM.  SEN.  That may not be:  your goods are fallen into our hands; my sentence cannot be recalled:  you may see, those that seek what is not theirs, oftentimes lose what’s their own:  therefore, Lingua, granting you your life, I commit you to close prison in Gustus’s house, and charge you, Gustus, to keep her under the custody of two strong doors, and every day, till she come to eighty years of age, see she be well-guarded with thirty tall watchmen, without whose licence she shall by no means wag abroad.  Nevertheless, use her ladylike, according to her estate.

PHA.  I pray you, my lord, add this to the judgment—­that, whensoever she obtaineth licence to walk abroad, in token the tongue was the cause of her offence, let her wear a velvet hood, made just in the fashion of a great tongue.  In my conceit, ’tis a very pretty emblem of a woman.

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.


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?

ANA.  Roasted? ha, ha, ha, ha! up, up, up, away!

APP.  Reach the sauce quickly; here’s no sugar:  whaw, whaw, O, O, O!

ANA.  What, never wake? [Jogs him.] Wilt never be?  Then I must try another way, I see.


Judicious friends, it is so late at night,
I cannot waken hungry Appetite: 
Then since the close upon his rising stands,
Let me obtain this at your courteous hands;
Try, if this friendly opportunity
Of your good-will and gracious plaudite,
With the thrice-welcome murmur it shall keep,
Can beg this prisoner from the bands of sleep.

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A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 9 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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