_Mistress Mul._ Gone? God is my witness, I deliver'd it with no more intention to be cozen'd on't than the child new born; and yet---- _Mul._ Look to my house! I am haunted with evil spirits! Hear me; do hear me! If I have not my goblet again, heaven! I'll to the devil,--I'll to a conjurer. Look to my house! I'll raise all the wise men i' the street. [_Exit._ _Mistress Mul._ Deliver us! What words are these? I trust in God he is but drunk, sure. 120 _Re-enter_ COCLEDEMOY. _Coc._ I must have the salmon too; worship[ful] Cocledemoy, now for the masterpiece. God bless thy neckpiece, and foutra!--Fair mistress, my master---- _Mistress Mul._ Have I caught you?--what, Roger? _Coc._ Peace, good mistress. I'll tell you all. A jest; a very mere jest: your husband only took sport to fright you:--the bowl's at my master's; and there is your husband, who sent me in all haste lest you should be over-frighted with his feigning, to come to dinner to him. 130 _Mistress Mul._ Praise heaven it is no worse. _Coc._ And desired me to desire you to send the jole of salmon before, and yourself to come after to them; my mistress would be right glad to see you. _Mistress Mul._ I pray carry it. Now thank them entirely. Bless me, I was never so out of my skin in my life! pray thank your mistress most entirely. _Coc._ So now, figo! worshipful Mall Faugh and I will munch; cheaters and bawds go together like washing and wringing. 140 [_Exit._ _Mistress Mul._ Beshrew his heart for his labour, how everything about[72] me quivers. What, Christian! my hat and aporn:[73] here, take my sleeves. And how I tremble! so I'll gossip it now for't, that's certain; here has been revolutions and false fires indeed. _Enter_ MULLIGRUB. _Mul._ Whither now?--what's the matter with you now?--whither are you a-gadding? _Mistress Mul._ Come, come, play the fool no more. Will you go? _Mul._ Whither, in the rank name of madness--whither? _Mistress Mul._ Whither?--why to Master Burnish,[74] to eat the jole of salmon. Lord, how strange you make it! 153 _Mul._ Why so?--why so? _Mistress Mul._ Why so? Why, did not you send the self-same fellow for the jole of salmon that had the cup? _Mul._ 'Tis well,--'tis very well. _Mistress Mul._ And will'd me to come and eat it with you at the goldsmith's? _Mul._ O, ay, ay, ay,--art in thy right wits? 160 _Mistress Mul._ Do you hear?--make a fool of somebody else; and you make an ass of me, I'll make an ox of you,--do ye see?