O. Fos. Yet, wife, I disinherited this boy.
Rob. Your blessing's all I crave.
O. Fos. And that enjoy
For ever: evermore my blessings fly
To pay thy virtues, love and charity.
Enter Stephen's Wife.
Mrs Fos. Here comes your brother's wife.
Welcome, dear sister.
Wife. I thank you. How fare you, brother?
O. Fos. Better than your husband's hate could wish me,
That laughs to see my back with sorrows bow:
But I am rid of half my ague now.
Wife. Had you an ague, then?
O. Fos. Yes, and my heart had every hour a fit;
But now't has left me well, and I left it.
Wife. O, 'tis well. Cousin, what make you here, I pray?