mithridate and oil, good sister, fetch me:
O, I am Sick at heart, I burn. I burn.
If you will save my life, go fetch it me.

Wel. O strange humour! my very breath has poison'd him.

Brid.
Good brother be content, what do you mean?
The strength of these extreme conceits will kill you.

Dame K.
Beshrew your heart, blood, brother Wellbred, now,
For putting such a toy into his head!

Wel. Is a fit simile a toy? will he be poison'd with a simile?
Brother Kitely, what a strange and idle imagination is this! For
shame, be wiser. O' my soul there's no such matter.

Kit. Am I not sick? how am I then not poison'd? Am I not poison'd?
how am I then so sick?

Dame K. If you be sick, your own thoughts make you sick.

Wel. His jealousy is the poison he has taken.
Enter BRAINWORM, disguised in FORMAL'S clothes.

Brai. Master Kitely, my master, justice Clement salutes you; and
desires to speak with you with all possible speed.

Kit. No time but now, when I think I am sick, very sick! well, I
will wait upon his worship. Thomas! Cob! I must seek them out, and
set them sentinels till I return. Thomas! Cob! Thomas!
[Exit. Wel.
This is perfectly rare, Brainworm; [takes him aside.] but how
got'st thou this apparel of the justice's man?

Brai. Marry, sir, my proper fine pen-man would needs bestow the
grist on me, at the Windmill, to hear some martial discourse; where
I so marshall'd him, that I made him drunk with admiration; and,
because too much heat was the cause of his distemper, I stript him
stark naked as he lay along asleep, and borrowed his suit to
deliver this counterfeit message in, leaving a rusty armour, and an
old brown bill to watch him till my return; which shall be, when I
have pawn'd his apparel, and spent the better part O' the money,
perhaps.

Wel. Well, thou art a successful merry knave, Brainworm: his
absence will be a good subject for more mirth. I pray thee return
to thy young master, and will him to meet me and my sister Bridget
at the Tower instantly; for here, tell him the house is so stored
with jealousy, there is no room for love to stand up'right in. We
must get our fortunes committed to some larger prison, say; and
than the Tower, I know no better air, nor where the liberty of the
house may do us more present service. Away.