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- Here's a knocking indeed. If a man were porter of Hell gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking offstage] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there i' the name of Beelzebub? Here's a farmer that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty — come in time. Have napkins enough about you, here you'll sweat for't. [Knocking offstage] Knock, knock. Who's there, in the other devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator that could swear in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God's sake yet could not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator. [Knocking offstage] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose. Come in, tailor, here you may roast your goose. [Knocking offstage] Knock, knock; never at quiet. What are you? But this place is too cold for hell, I'll devil-porter it no further. I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking offstage] Anon, anon. I pray you, remember the porter.
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