Non. How now! what have you there, sirrah?
Tob. An't please your worship, 'tis my water. I had a spice o'the new disease here i'the house; and so carried it to master doctor.
Non. Well; and what did he say to you?
Tob. He told me very sad news, an' please you: I am somewhat bashful to speak on't.
Isa. Out with it, man.
Tob. Why, truly, he told me, the party that owned the water was with child.
Isa. I told you so, uncle.
Non. To my best remembrance, I never heard of such a thing before.
Tob. I never stretch out myself to snap my whip, but it goes to the heart of me.
Isa. Alas, poor Toby!