Bell. Out of my sight, thou ungodly puritanical creature.
Rog. For the t’other pottle? yes, forsooth.
Bell. Spill that too. [Exit Roger.] What gentleman is that, servant? your friend?
Mat. Gods so; a stool, a stool! If you love me mistress, entertain this gentleman respectively,[162] and bid him welcome.
Bell. He’s very welcome,—pray, sir, sit.
Hip. Thanks, lady.
Flu. Count Hippolito, is’t not? Cry you mercy signor; you walk here all this while, and we not heard you! Let me bestow a stool upon you, beseech you; you are a stranger here, we know the fashions a’th’ house.
Cas. Please you be here, my lord? [Offers tobacco.
Hip. No, good Castruchio.