GRIM. Is she, sure? Did you hear her snort in her dead sleep? Why then,
Joan, I have an hour's mirth for thee.
JOAN. And I a mess of cream for thee.
GRIM. Why, there is one for another then: fetch it, Joan; we will eat and kiss, and be as merry as your cricket. [Exit JOAN for the cream.] Art thou gone for it? Well, go thy ways for the kindest lass that ever poor collier met withal? I mean for to make short work with her, and marry her presently. I'll single her out, i'faith, till I make her bear double, and give the world to understand we will have a young Grim between us.
Enter JOAN with the cream.
JOAN. Look here, my love, 'tis sweeten'd for thy mouth.
GRIM. You have put none of your love-powder in it, to make me enamourable of you, have you, Joan? I have a simple pate, to expect you! [One knocketh at the door.] Joan, hark, my brains beat, my head works, and my mind giveth me: some lovers of yours come sneaking hither now; I like it not, 'tis suspectious.
[One knocketh again.
JOAN. You need not fear it; for there is none alive
Shall bear the least part of my heart from thee.
GRIM. Say'st thou so? hold there still, and whoe'er he be, open door to him.
She openeth the door. Enter SHORTHOSE, and ROBIN after him.