Lingua, or, The combat of the tongue, and the five senses for superiority a pleasant comoedy.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 2.

Mendatio with Cushions under his arms, trips up Anamnestes heels.

Mendacio. Anamnestes.

ANA.

How now?

MEND

Nothing but lay you upon the Cushion Sir, how so?

ANA.

Nothing but lay the Cushion upon you Sir?

MEND.

What my little Nam? by this foot I am sorry I mistook thee.

ANA.

What my little Men? by this hand it grieves me I took thee so right. But Sirra whither with these Cushions?

MEN.

To lay them here that the Judges may sit softly, least my Lady Lingua's cause go hard with her.

ANA.

They should have been wrought with gold, these will do nothing: But what makes thy Lady with the Judges?

MEND.

Pish, know'st not? she sueth for the title of a Sense, as well as the rest that bear the name of the Pentarchy.

ANA.

Will Common sense and my Master leave their affairs to determine that Controversie?

MEND.

Then thou hearst nothing.

ANA.

What should I hear!

MEND.

All the Senses fell out about a Crown faln from Heaven, and pitcht a field for it; but Vicegerent Common-sense hearing of it, took upon him to umpire the contention, in which re∣gard he hath appointed them (their armes dis∣missed) to appear before him, charging every one to bring as it were in a shew their proper objects, that by them he may determine of their several excellencies.

ANA.

When is all this?

MEND.

As soon as they can possibly provide,

ANA.

But can he tell which deserves best by their objects?

MEND.

No not only; for every sense must de∣scribe his Instrument, that is his house where he performs his dayly duty, so that by the Object and the Instrument, my Lord can with great ease discern their place and dignities.

ANA.

His Lorship's very wise.

MEND

Thou shalt hear all anon, fine Master

Phantastes, and thy Master will be here shortly. But how is't my little Rogue? me thinks thou look'st lean upon't?

ANA.

Alas, how should I do otherwise that lie all night with such a Rawbon'd Skeliton as Me∣mory, and run all day on his Errands! The Churle's grown so old and forgetful, that every hour he's calling Anamnestes remembrance, where art Anamnestes? Then presently something's loft, poor I must run for it; and these words, run Boy, Come Sirra quick, quick, quick, are as familiar with him as the Cough, never out on's mouth.

MEND.

Alack, alack poor Rogue, I see my for∣tunes are better. My Lady loves me exceedingly; she's always kissing me, so that (I tell the Nam) Mendacios never from betwixt her lips.

ANA.

Nor out of Memories mouth; but in a worse sort, always exercising my stumps, and which is more, when he favours best, then I am in the worst taking.

MEND.

How so?

ANA.

Thus, when we are friends, then must I come and be dandled upon his Palsie-quaking knees, and he'l tell me a long story of his ac∣quaintance with King Priamus and his familia∣rity with Nestor, and how he plaid at blow-point with Jupiter when he was in his side-coats, and how he went to look Birds-nests with Athon, and where he was at Deucalious stood, and twenty such old wives tales.

MEND.

I wonder he being so old can talk so much.

ANA.

Nature thou know'st (knowing what an unruly Engine the tongue is) hath set teeth round about for watchmen; Now Sir my Master's old age hath caught out all his teeth, and that's the cause it runs so much it liberty.

MEND.

Philosophical!

ANA.

O but therer's one thing stings me to the very heart, to see an ugly, foul, idle, fat, dusty ••log-head, called Oblivio preferred before me; dost know him?

MEND.

Who I? I▪ But care not for his acquain∣tance, hang him blockhead, I could never abide him. Thou Remembrance art the only friend that the arms of my friendship shall embrace. Thou hast heard Opo••tet mendac••m esse memorem. But what of Oblivio?

ANA.

The very naming of him hath made me forget my self. O, O, O, O, that Rascal is so made of everywhere.

MEND.

Who Oblivio?

ANA.

I, for our Courtiers hug him continually in their ungrateful bosomes, and your smooth-belly, fat-backt, barrel-pauncht, tun-gutted drones are never without him; as for Memory he's a false-hearted fellow, he always deceives them; they respect not him except it be to play a game at Chess, Primero, Saun••, Maw, or such like.

Mend.

I cannot think such fellows have to do

with Oblivio since they never got any thing to forget.

ANA.

Again, these prodigal swaggerers that are so much bound to their Creditors, if they have but one Crosse about them they'l spend it in wine upon Oblivio.

MEN.

To what purpose I prethee?

ANA.

Only in hope he'l wash them in the Lethe of their cares.

MEN.

Why then no man cares for thee!

ANA.

Yes, a company of studious paper-worms and lean Schollers, and niggardly scraping Usu∣rers, and a troop of heart-eating envious persons, and those cancker-stomackt spiteful creatures, that furnish up common place-books with other mens faults. The time hath been in those golden days, when Saturn reigned, that if a man re∣ceived a benefit of another, I was presently sent for to put him in mind of it; but now in these Iron afternoons, save your friends life, and Oblivio will be more familiar with him then you.