MEM.  How soon a wise man shall have his wish!

COM.  SEN.  Memory, the season of your coming is very ripe.

PHA.  Had you stayed a little longer, ’twould have been stark rotten.

MEM.  I am glad I saved it from the swine.  ’Sprecious, I have forgot something.  O, my purse, my purse!  Why, Anamnestes, Remembrance? that wild boy is always gadding.  I remember he was at my heels even now, and now the vile rascal is vanished.

PHA.  Is he not here?  Why, then in my imagination he’s left behind.  Hollo!  Anamnestes, Remembrance!

ANA. [Running in haste.] Anon, anon, sir; anon, anon, sir; anon, anon, sir; anon, anon, sir.

MEM.  Ha, sirrah, what a brawling’s here?

ANA.  I do but give you an answer with, anon, sir.

MEM.  You answer sweetly; I have called you three or four times one after another.

ANA.  Sir, I hope I answered you three or four times, one in the neck of another.  But if your good worship have lent me any more calls, tell me, and I’ll repay them, as I’m a gentleman.

MEM.  Leave your tattle.  Had you come at first, I had not spent so much breath in vain.

ANA.  The truth is, sir, the first time you called I heard you not:  the second, I understood you not:  the third, I knew not whether it were you or no:  the fourth, I could not tell where you were, and that’s the reason I answered so suddenly.

MEM.  Go, sirrah:  run:  seek everywhere.  I have lost my purse somewhere.

ANA.  I go, sir. Go, sirrah, seek, run; I have lost; bring! here’s a dog’s life, with a pox!  Shall I be always used like a water-spaniel?
          
                                        [Exit ANAMNESTES.

COM.  SEN.  Come, good Master Register, I wonder you be so late now-a-days.

MEM.  My good lord, I remember that I knew your grandfather in this your place, and I remember your grandfather’s great grandfather’s grandfather’s father’s father; yet in those days I never remember that any of them could say that Register Memory ever broke one minute of his appointment.

COM.  SEN.  Why, good father, why are you so late now-a-days?

MEM.  Thus ’tis; the most customers I remember myself to have, are, as your lordship knows, scholars; and now-a-days the most of them are become critics, bringing me home such paltry things to lay up for them, that I can hardly find them again.

PHA.  Jupiter, Jupiter, I had thought these flies had bit none but myself:  do critics tickle you, i’faith?

MEM.  Very familiarly:  for they must know of me, forsooth, how every idle word is written in all the musty moth-eaten manuscripts, kept in all the old libraries in every city betwixt England and Peru.

COM.  SEN.  Indeed, I have noted these times to affect antiquities more than is requisite.