Welford. So fair, and cruel, dear unkind good night. [Exit Lady. Nay Sir, you shall stay with me, I'le press your zeal so far.
Roger. O Lord Sir.
Wel. Do you love Tobacco?
Rog. Surely I love it, but it loves not me; yet with your reverence I'le be bold.
Wel. Pray light it Sir. How do you like it?
Rog. I promise you it is notable stinging geer indeed. It is wet Sir, Lord how it brings down Rheum!
Wel. Handle it again Sir, you have a warm text of it.
Rog. Thanks ever promised for it. I promise you it is very powerful, and by a Trope, spiritual; for certainly it moves in sundry places.
Wel. I, it does so Sir, and me especially to ask Sir, why you wear a Night-cap.
Rog. Assuredly I will speak the truth unto you: you shall understand Sir, that my head is broken, and by whom; even by that visible beast the Butler.