I beseech your worship to pardon me; I longed for't.
_Isa_. I feared as much.
_Amb_. And I beseech your worship let me have a boy, to help me
in the kitchen; for I find myself unable to go through with the work.
Besides, the doctor has warned me of stooping to the fire, for fear of
a mischance.
_Non_. Why, are you with child, sirrah?
_Amb_. So he tells me; but, if I were put to my oath, I know not
that ever I deserved for't.
_Non_. Still worse and worse. And here comes Setstone groaning.
_Enter_ SETSTONE.
_Set_. O, sir! I have been so troubled with swooning fits; and
have so longed for cherries!
_Non_. He's poopt too.
_Isa_. Well, this is not the worst yet: I suspect something more
than I will speak of.
_Non_. What dost thou suspect, ha!
_Isa_. Is not your lordship with child, too?
_Non_. Who, I with child! marry, heaven forbid! What dost thou
see by me, to ground it on?
_Isa_. You're very round of late;--that's all, sir.
_Non_. Round! that's only fat, I hope. I have had a very good
stomach of late, I'm sure.
_Isa_. Alas, and well you may;--You eat for two, sir.
_Non_. Setstone, look upon me, and tell me true: Do you observe
any alteration in me?
_Set_. I would not dishearten your ladyship--your lordship, I
would say--but I have observed, of late, your colour goes and comes
extremely.
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