¶Lord Cobham comes out stealing in his gown.
¶Cob. Harpool, Harpool, I hear a marvellous noi
se about
2235the hou
se, God warrant us, I fear we are pur
sued:
¶Har. within. Who calls there?
¶Cob. 'Tis I, do
st thou not hear a noi
se about the hou
se?
¶Har. Yes marry do I, zounds I cannot find my ho
se,
2240this
Irish ra
scal that lodg'd with me all night, hath
stollen
¶my apparel, and has left me nothing but a low
sie mantle,
¶and a pair of broags. Get up, get up, and if the Carrier
¶and his wench be a
sleep, change you with him as he hath
¶done with me, and
see if we can
scape.