here, Cob?

COB. Ay, sir, I and my lineage have kept a poor house in our days.

MAT. Thy lineage, Monsieur Cob! what lineage, what lineage?

COB. Why, sir, an ancient lineage, and a princely: mine ancestry
came from a king's loins, no worse man; and yet no man neither but
Herring the king of fish, one of the monarchs of the world, I
assure you. I do fetch my pedigree and name from the first red
herring that was eaten in Adam and Eve's kitchen: his Cob was my
great, great, mighty great grandfather.

MAT. Why mighty? why mighty?

COB. Oh, it's a mighty while ago, sir, and it was a mighty great
Cob.

MAT. How knowest thou that?

COB. How know I? why, his ghost comes to me every night.

MAT. Oh, unsavoury jest: the ghost of a herring Cob.

COB. Ay, why not the ghost of a herring Cob, as well as the ghost
of Rashero Bacono, they were both broiled on the coals? you are a
scholar, upsolve me that now.

MAT. Oh, rude ignorance! Cob, canst thou shew me of a gentleman,
one Signior Bobadilla, where his lodging is?