Tho. He does vomit the strangest things yonder.
Cap. Did not I say, murder will out?
Tho. I thinke he has eaten and drunke nothing but Monopolies, and too hard to be digested they come up againe.
Within Eng. Oh!
Tho. Harke, I must hold his head. [Exit.
Cap. Did not I tell you something would come out?
Tho. Pins, pins, they lay across his throat. I told you he was bewitch'd. Heyday! cards and dice, out with 'em, the Divells a gamester and paies the box soundly—Now, now, now.
Un. Whats that?
Tho. Tis something clammy,—now,—oh, tis sope!
Cap. Sope? give a man leave to wash his mouth.