Non. What condition?
Isa. Nay, I know not; she has not worn her busk this fortnight. I think she's grown fat o'the sudden.
Non. O devil, devil! what a fright I'm in!
Isa. She has qualms too every morning: ravens mightily for green fruit; and swoons at the sight of hot meat.
Non. She's with child: I am undone! I am undone!
Isa. I understand nothing of such matters: She's but in the next room; best call her, and examine her about it.
Non. Why Constance, Constance!
Enter CONSTANCE, as with child.
Isa. Now for a broad-side; turn your prow to him, cousin.
[To her.