John. I will not;
Who calls Jeronimo from his naked Bed?
Sweet Lady, was it you? if thou beest the Devil,
First, having crost my self, to keep out wildfire,
Then said some special Prayers to defend me
Against thy most unhallowed Hood, have at thee.
Land. Hold, Sir, I am no Devil.
John. That's all one.
Land. I am your very Landlady.
John. I defie thee;
Thus as St. Dunstan blew the Devil's Nose
With a pair of tongs, even so, Right Worshipful—
Land. Sweet Son, I am old Gillian.
Duke. This is no Spirit.
John. Art thou old Gillian, flesh and bone?
Land. I am, Son.
Vec. Sit still, Sir, now I'll shew you all. [Ex. Vec.