GUS.  ’Twill make a fine toothpick, that lark’s heel there:  O, do not burn it.

PHA.  Boy Heuresis, what think’st thou I think, when I think nothing?

HEU.  And it please you, sir, I think you are devising how to answer a man that asks you nothing.

PHA.  Well-guessed, boy; but yet thou mistook’st it, for I was thinking of the constancy of women[320]. [APPETITUS snores aloud.] Beware, sirrah, take heed; I doubt me there’s some wild boar lodged hereabout.  How now? methinks these be the Senses; ha? in my conceit the elder brother of death has kissed them.

TAC.  O, O, O, I am stabbed, I am stabbed; hold your hand, O, O, O.

PHA.  How now? do they talk in their sleep? are they not awake, Heuresis?

HEU.  No, questionless, they be all fast asleep.

GUS.  Eat not too many of those apples, they be very flative[321].

OLF.  Foh, beat out this dog here; foh, was it you, Appetitus?

AUD.  In faith, it was most sweetly-winded, whosoever it was; the warble is very good, and the horn is excellent.

TAC.  Put on, man, put on; keep your head warm, ’tis cold.

PHA.  Ha, ha, ha, ha? ’st:  Heuresis, stir not, sirrah.

APP.  Shut the door, the pot runs over, sirrah.  Cook, that will be a sweet pasty, if you nibble the venison so.

GUS.  Say you so? is a marrow-pie the Helena of meats? give me’t; if I play not Paris, hang me.  Boy, a clean trencher.

APP.  Serve up, serve up; this is a fat rabbit, would I might have the maidenhead of it:  come, give me the fish there; who hath meddled with these maids, ha?

OLF.  Fie, shut your snuffers closer for shame; ’tis the worst smell that can be.

TAC.  O, the cramp, the cramp, the cramp:  my leg, my leg!

LIN.  I must abroad presently:  reach me my best necklace presently.

PHA.  Ah, Lingua, are you there?

AUD.  Here take this rope, and I’ll help the leader close with the second bell.  Fie, fie, there’s a goodly peal clean-spoiled.

VIS.  I’ll lay my life that gentlewoman is painted:  well, well, I know it; mark but her nose:  do you not see the complexion crack out?  I must confess ’tis a good picture.

TAC.  Ha, ha, ha! fie, I pray you leave, you tickle me so:  oh, ha, ha, ha! take away your hands, I cannot endure; ah, you tickle me, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

VIS.  Hai, Rett, Rett, Rett, now, bird, now,—­look about that bush, she trussed her thereabout.—­Here she is, ware wing, Cater,[322] ware wing, avaunt.

LIN.  Mum, mum, mum, mum.

PHA.  Hist, sirrah, take heed you wake her not.

HEU.  I know, sir, she is fast asleep, for her mouth is shut.

LIN.  This ’tis to venture upon such uncertainties; to lose so rich a crown to no end, well, well.

PHA.  Ha, ha, ha! we shall hear anon where she lost her maidenhead:  ’st, boy, my Lord Vicegerent and Master Register are hard by:  run quickly; tell them of this accident, wish them come softly.