O, husband! is it you? What's the news? Cob. Nay, you have stunn'd me, i'faith; you have, given me a knock O' the forehead will stick by me. Cuckold! 'Slid, cuckold! Tib. Away, you fool! did I know it was you that knocked? Come, come, you may call me as bad when you list. Cob. May I? Tib, you are a whore. Tib. You lie in your throat, husband. Cob. How, the lie! and in my throat tool do you long to be stabb'd, ha? Tib. Why, you are no soldier, I hope. Cob. O, must you be stabbed by a soldier? Mass, that's true! when was Bobadill here, your captain? that rogue, that foist, that fencing Burgullion? I'll tickle him, i'faith. Tib. Why, what's the matter, trow? Cob. O, he has basted me rarely, sumptuously! but I have it here in black and white, [pulls out the warrant.] for his black and blue shall pay him. O, the justice, the honestest old brave Trojan in London; I do honour the very flea of his dog. A plague on him, though, he put me once in a villanous filthy fear; marry, it vanished away like the smoke of tobacco; but I was smoked soundly first. I thank the devil, and his good angel, my guest. Well, wife, or Tib, which you will, get you in, and lock the door; I charge you let nobody in to you, wife; nobody in to you; those are my words: not Captain Bob himself, nor the fiend in his likeness. You are a woman, you have flesh and blood enough in you to be tempted; therefore keep the door shut upon all comers. Tib. I warrant you, there shall nobody enter here without my consent. Cob. Nor with your consent, sweet Tib; and so I leave you. Tib. It's more than you know, whether you leave me so. Cob. How? Tib. Why, sweet. Cob. Tut, sweet or sour, thou art a flower. Keep close thy door, I ask no more. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-A Room in the Windmill Tavern. Enter E. KNOWELL, WELLBRED, STEPHEN, and BRAINWORM, disguised as before. E. Know. Well, Brainworm, perform this business happily, and thou makest a purchase of my love for ever. Wel. I'faith, now let thy spirits use their best faculties: but, at any hand, remember the message to my brother; for there's no other means to start him. Brai. I warrant you, sir; fear nothing; I have a nimble soul has waked all forces of my phant'sie by this time, and put them in true motion. What you have possest me withal, I'll discharge it amply, sir; make it no question. [Exit. Wel. Forth, and prosper, Brainworm. Faith, Ned, how dost thou approve of my abilities in this device? E. Know. Troth, well, howsoever; but it will come excellent if it take. Wel. Take, man! why it cannot choose but take, if the circumstances miscarry not: but, tell me ingenuously, dost thou affect my sister Bridget as thou pretend'st?