Mist. Pray come in, the air is hurtful for you,
Pray let me lead you, I'll have a bed for you presently,
I'll be your Surgeon too, alas sweet Gentleman.
Wild. I feel no hurts, the morning comes too fast now.
Mist. Softly, I beseech you. [Exit.
Enter Lady and Toby.
Tob. He is not up yet Madam, what meant you
To come forth so early?
La. You blockhead;
Your eyes are sow'd up still, they cannot see
When it is day: oh my poor Maria;
Where be the women?
Tob. They said they would follow us.
La. He shall not laugh thus at my misery,
And kill my child, and steal away her body,
And keep her portion too.
Tob. Let him be hang'd for't,
You have my voice.
La. These women not come yet?
A Son-in-law, I'll keep a Conjurer,
But I'll find out his knavery.