SCENE III.--JUSTICE CLEMENT'S. COB _finds_ KITELY _and reports the

arrival of_ WELL-BRED'S _party_. KITELY _hurries home in a panic. Enter_ CLEMENT _with_ OLD KNOWELL _and_ FORMAL.

CLEMENT (_to_ COB): How now, sirrah? What make you here?

COB: A poor neighbour of your worship, come to crave the peace of your worship; a warrant for one that has wronged me, sir; an I die within a twelvemonth and a day, I may swear by the law of the land that he killed me.

CLEMENT: How, knave? What colour hast thou for that?

COB: Both black and blue, an't please your worship; colour enough, I warrant you. [_Baring his arm_.

CLEMENT: How began the quarrel between you?

COB: Marry indeed, an't please your worship, only because I spake against their vagrant tobacco; for nothing else.

CLEMENT: Ha! You speak against tobacco. Your name?

COB: Cob, sir, Oliver Cob.

CLEMENT: Then, Oliver Cob, you shall go to jail.

COB: Oh, I beseech your worship, for heaven's sake, dear master justice!

CLEMENT: He shall not go; I did but fear the knave. Formal, give him his warrant. (_Exeunt_ FORMAL _and_ COB) How now, Master Knowell, in dumps? Your cares are nothing. What! Your son is old enough to govern himself; let him run his course.