LIN. Witness this lie, Mendacio's with me now; But, sirrah, out of jesting will they come? MEN. Yes, and it like your ladyship, presently; Here may you have me prest[177] to flatter them. LIN. I'll flatter no such proud companions, 'Twill do no good, therefore I am determin'd To leave such baseness. MEN. Then shall I turn and bid them stay at home? LIN. No; for their coming hither to this grove Shall be a means to further my device. Therefore I pray thee, Mendacio, go presently; Run, you vile ape. MEN. Whither? LIN. What, dost thou stand? MEN. Till I know what to do. LIN. 'Sprecious, 'tis true, So might'st thou finely overrun thine errand. Haste to my chest. MEN. Ay, ay. LIN. There shalt thou find A gorgeous robe and golden coronet; Convey them hither nimbly, let none see them. MEN. Madam, I fly, I fly. [_Exit_ MENDACIO. LIN. But hear you, sirrah? Lock up your fellow-servant Veritas. MEN. I warrant you, You need not fear so long as I am with you. [_He goes out, and comes in presently_. What colour is the robe? LIN. There is but one. [MENDACIO, _going, turns in haste_. MEN. The key, madam, the key. LIN. By Juno, how forgetful Is sudden speed! Here, take it, run. MEN. I'll be here instantly. [_Exit_ MENDACIO. SCAENA TERTIA. LINGUA _sola_. LIN. Whilome this crown and gorgeous ornament Were the great prize for which five orators With the sharp weapons of their tongues contended: But all their speeches were so equal wrought And alike gracious,[178] that, if his were witty, His was as wise; the third's fair eloquence Did parallel the fourth's firm gravity; The last's good gesture kept the balance even With all the rest; so that the sharpest eye And most judicious censor could not judge, To whom the hanging victory should fall. Therefore with one consent they all agreed To offer up both crown and robe to me, As the chief patroness of their profession, Which heretofore I holily have kept, Like to a miser's gold, to look on only. But now I'll put them to a better use, And venture both, in hope to-- SCAENA QUARTA. MENDACIO, LINGUA. MEN. Have I not hied me, madam? look you here, What shall be done with these temptations? LIN. They say a golden Ball Bred enmity betwixt three goddesses; So shall this crown be author of debate Betwixt five senses. MEN. Where shall it be laid! LIN. There, there, there; 'tis well; so, so, so. MEN. A crown's a pleasing bait to look upon; The craftiest fox will hardly 'scape this trap. LIN. Come, let us away, and leave it to the chance. MEN. Nay, rather let me stand close hereabouts, And see the event. LIN. Do so, and if they doubt, How it came there, feign them some pretty fable, How that some god-- MEN. Tut, tut, tut, let me alone: I that have feign'd so many hundred gods, Can easily forge some fable for the turn: Whist, madam; away, away: you fright the fowl; Tactus comes hard by, look you. LIN. Is't he for certain?