_Host._ I fear so, Sir, h'as lock'd the door close to him Sure he is very ill. _Inc._ That is with fasting, You should ha told him Gossip, what you had had, Given him the Inventory of your kitchen, It is the picklock in an Inn, and often Opens a close barr'd stomach: what may he be troh? Has he so good a Horse? _Die._ Oh a brave Jennet, As e'r your worship saw. _Inc._ And he eats? _Die._ Strongly. _Inc._ A mighty Solecisme, heaven give me patience, What creatures has he? _Host._ None. _Inc._ And so well cloath'd, And so well mounted? _Die._ That's all my wonder, Sir, Who he should be; he is attir'd and hors'd For the _Constables_ Son of _Spain_. _Inc._ My wonders more He should want appetite: well a good night To both my Gossips: I will for this time Put off the thought of supping: In the morning Remember him of breakfast pray you. _Host._ I shall Sir. _Die._ A hungry time Sir. _Inc._ We that live like mice On others meat, must watch when we can get it. [_Exit_ Incubo. _Host._ Yes, but I would not tell him: Our fair guest Says, though he eats no supper he will pay for one. _Die._ Good news: we'll eat it spouse, t' his health, 'Twas politickly done t'admit no sharers. _Enter_ Philippo. _Phi._ Look to the Mules there, where's mine Host? _Die._ Here Sir. Another Fayerie. _Host._ Bless me. _Phi._ From what sweet Hostess? Are you afraid o' your guests? _Host._ From Angels, Sir, I think there's none but such come here to night, My house had never so good luck afore For brave, fine guests; and yet the ill luck on't is I cannot bid you welcome. _Phi._ No? _Host._ Not lodge you Sir. _Phi._ Not, Hostess? _Host._ No in troth Sir, I do tell you Because you may provide in time: my beds Are both tane up by a young Cavalier That will and must be private. _Die._ He has paid Sir For all our Chambers. _Host._ Which is one: and Beds Which I already ha told you are two: But Sir, So sweet a creature, I am very sorry I cannot lodge you by him; you look so like him Yo' are both the loveliest pieces. _Phi._ What train has he? _Die._ None but himself. _Phi._ And will no less than both beds Serve him? _Host._ H'as given me a Ducket for 'em. _Phi._ Oh. You give me reason Hostess: Is he handsome, And young do you say? _Host._ Oh Sir, the delicat'st flesh And finest cloths withal, and such a horse, With such a Saddle. _Phi._ She's in love with all. The horse and him, and Saddle, and cloths, good woman, Thou justifiest thy Sex; lov'st all that's brave: _Enter_ Incubo.