CRA. You filthy long crane, you mean slave, will you kill your guests with blowing continual hunger in them? The Senses have overcharged their stomachs already, and you, sirrah, serve them up a fresh appetite with every new dish. They had burst their guts if thou hadst stayed but a thought longer. Begone, or I'll set thee away; begone, ye gnaw-bone, raw-bone rascal![299] [_Beats him_. MEN. Then my device is clean spoiled. Appetitus should have been as the bowl to present this medicine to the Senses, and now Crapula hath beaten him out of doors; what shall I do? [_Aside_.] CRA. Away, sirrah. [_Beats him_. APP. Well, Crapula, well; I have deserved better at your hands than so. I was the man, you know, first brought you into Gustus's service. I lined your guts there, and you use me thus? but grease a fat sow, &c. CRA. Dost thou talk? Hence, hence; avaunt, cur; avaunt, you dog! [_Exit_ CRAPULA. APP. The belching gorbelly[300] hath well-nigh killed me; I am shut out of doors finely. Well, this is my comfort, I may walk now in liberty at my own pleasure. MEN. Appetitus, Appetitus! APP. Ah, Mendacio, Mendacio! MEN. Why, how now, man, how now? how is't? canst not speak? APP. Faith, I am like a bagpipe, that never sounds but when the belly is full. MEN. Thou empty, and com'st from a feast? APP. From a fray. I tell thee, Mendacio, I am now just like the ewe that gave suck to a wolf's whelp; I have nursed up my fellow Crapula so long, that he's grown strong enough to beat me. MEN. And whither wilt thou go, now thou art banished out of service? APP. Faith, I'll travel to some college or other in an university. MEN. Why so? APP. Because Appetitus is well-beloved amongst scholars, for there I can dine and sup with them, and rise again as good friends as we sat down. I'll thither, questionless. MEN. Hear'st thou? give me thy hand. By this, I love thee: go to, then. Thou shalt not forsake thy masters thus, I say thou shalt not. APP. Alas! I am very loth; but how should I help it? MEN. Why, take this bottle of wine, come on; go thy ways to them again. APP. Ha, ha, ha! what good will this do? MEN. This is the Nepenthe that reconciles the gods. Do but let the Senses taste of it, and fear not, they'll love thee as well as ever they did. APP. I pray thee, where hadst it? MEN. My lady gave it me to bring her. Mercury stole it from Hebe for her. Thou knowest there were some jars betwixt her and thy masters, and with this drink she would gladly wash out all the relics of their disagreement. Now, because I love thee, thou shalt have the grace of presenting it to them, and so come in favour again. APP. It smells well. I would fain begin to them. MEN. Nay, stay no longer, lest they have supped before thou come. APP. Mendacio, how shall I requite thy infinite courtesy?