BOBADILL: Sir, I have been in the Indies where this herb grows; where neither myself nor a dozen gentlemen more of my knowledge have received the taste of any other nutriment in the world for the space of one and twenty weeks, but the fume of this simple only. By Hercules, I do hold it, and will affirm it, before any prince in Europe, to be the most sovereign and precious weed that ever the earth tendered to the use of man. [COB _has entered meanwhile_. COB: Mack, I marvel what pleasure they have in taking this roguish tobacco. It's good for nothing but to choke a man, and fill him full of smoke and embers. And there were no wiser men than I, I'd have it present whipping, man or woman, that should but deal with a tobacco pipe. [BOBADILL _cudgels him. Enter_ CASH, _who drags off the lamenting_ COB. _While the rest are conversing_, MATTHEW _and_ BOBADILL _slip out_. WELL-BRED: Soft, where's Master Matthew? Gone? BRAIN-WORM: No, sir, they went in here. WELL-BRED: Oh, let's follow them. Master Matthew is gone to salute his mistress in verse. We shall have the happiness to hear some of his poetry now. He never comes impoverished. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III.--JUSTICE CLEMENT'S. COB _finds_ KITELY _and reports the arrival of_ WELL-BRED'S _party_. KITELY _hurries home in a panic. Enter_ CLEMENT _with_ OLD KNOWELL _and_ FORMAL. CLEMENT (_to_ COB): How now, sirrah? What make you here? COB: A poor neighbour of your worship, come to crave the peace of your worship; a warrant for one that has wronged me, sir; an I die within a twelvemonth and a day, I may swear by the law of the land that he killed me. CLEMENT: How, knave? What colour hast thou for that? COB: Both black and blue, an't please your worship; colour enough, I warrant you. [_Baring his arm_. CLEMENT: How began the quarrel between you? COB: Marry indeed, an't please your worship, only because I spake against their vagrant tobacco; for nothing else. CLEMENT: Ha! You speak against tobacco. Your name? COB: Cob, sir, Oliver Cob. CLEMENT: Then, Oliver Cob, you shall go to jail. COB: Oh, I beseech your worship, for heaven's sake, dear master justice! CLEMENT: He shall not go; I did but fear the knave. Formal, give him his warrant. (_Exeunt_ FORMAL _and_ COB) How now, Master Knowell, in dumps? Your cares are nothing. What! Your son is old enough to govern himself; let him run his course. ACT IV SCENE I.--_At_ KITELY'S. DAME KITELY _and_ DOWN-RIGHT, _who, to his sister's great indignation, is reproving her for admitting_ WELL-BRED'S _companions. Enter_ BRIDGET, MATTHEW, _and_ BOBADILL; WELL-BRED, STEPHEN, YOUNG KNOWELL, _and_ BRAIN-WORM _at the back_.