Chapter 12

_Enter_ Tapwell _and_ Froth.

_Tap._ Undone, undone! this was your counsel, Froth.

_Froth._ Mine! I defy thee: did not Master Marall (He has marr'd all, I am sure) strictly command us (On pain of Sir Giles Overreach's displeasure) To turn the gentleman out of doors?

_Tap._ 'Tis true; But now he's his uncle's darling, and has got Master Justice Greedy (since he fill'd his belly) At his commandment to do any thing; Wo, wo to us.

_Froth._ He may prove merciful.

_Tap._ Troth, we do not deserve it at his hands. Though he knew all the passages of our house, As the receiving of stolen goods; When he was rogue Wellborn, no man would believe him, And then his information could not hurt us: But now he is right worshipful again. Who dares but doubt his testimony? Methinks I see thee, Froth, already in a cart, And my hand hissing (if I 'scape the halter) With the letter R printed upon it.

_Froth._ 'Would that were the worst! That were but nine days wonder: as for credit, We have none to loose; but we shall lose the money He owes us, and his custom; there's the worst on't.

_Tap._ He has summon'd all his creditors by the drum, And they swarm about him like so many soldiers On the pay day; and has found such a new way To pay his old debts, as, 'tis very likely, He shall be chronicled for it.

_Froth._ He deserves it More than ten pageants. But are you sure his worship Comes this way to my lady's?

[_A Cry Within_, Brave Mr. Wellborn!]

_Tap._ Yes, I hear him.

_Froth._ Be ready with your petition, and present it To his good grace.

_Enter_ Wellborn, _in a rich Habit_; Greedy, Marall, Amble, Order, Furnace, _and Three_ Creditors; Tapwell, _kneeling, delivers his Bill of Debt_.

_Wellb._ How's this! petitioned too? But note what miracles the payment of A little trash, and a rich suit of clothes, Can work upon these rascals. I shall be, I think, Prince Wellborn.

_Mar._ When your worship's married, You may be--I know what I hope to see you.

_Wellb._ Then look thou for advancement.

_Mar._ To be known Your worship's bailiff, is the mark I shoot at.

_Wellb._ And thou shalt hit it.

_Mar._ Pray you, sir, despatch, And for my admittance.

[_In this Interim_, Tapwell _and_ Froth _flattering and bribing_ Justice Greedy.

(Provided you'll defend me from Sir Giles, Whose service I am weary of) I'll say something You shall give thanks for.

_Wellb._ Fear him not.

_Greedy._ Who, Tapwell? I remember thy wife brought me Last new year's tide, a couple of fat turkeys.

_Tap._ And shall do every Christmas, let your worship But stand my friend now.

_Greedy._ How! with Mr. Wellborn? I can do any thing with him, on such terms---- See you this honest couple? they are good souls As ever drew out spigot; have they not A pair of honest faces?

_Wellb._ I o'erheard you, And the bribe he promis'd; you are cozen'd in them; For of all the scum that grew rich by my riots, This for a most unthankful knave, and this For a base quean, have worse deserv'd; And therefore speak not for them. By your place, You are rather to do me justice; lend me your ear, Forget his turkeys, and call in his license, And every season I will send you venison, Shall feast a mayor and the corporation.

_Greedy._ I am changed on the sudden In my opinion----Mum! my passion is great! I fry like a burnt marrowbone--Come nearer, rascal. And now I view him better, did you e'er see One look so like an arch knave? his very countenance, Should an understanding judge but look upon him, Would hang him, though he were innocent.

_Tap and Froth._ Worshipful sir!

_Greedy._ No; though the great Turk came instead of turkeys, To beg my favour, I am inexorable. Thou never hadst in thy house, to stay men's stomachs, A piece of Suffolk cheese, or gammon of bacon, Or any esculent, as the learned call it, For their emolument, but sheer drink only. For which gross fault, I here do damn thy license, Forbidding thee ever to tap or draw; For instantly, I will, in mine own person, Command the constable to pull down thy sign; And do it before I eat.

_Froth._ No mercy?

_Greedy._ Vanish. If I show any, may my promis'd venison choke me.

_Tap._ Unthankful knaves are ever so rewarded.

[_Exeunt_ Tapwell and _Froth_.

_Wellb._ Speak; what are you?

_1 Cred._ A decayed vintner, sir, That might have thriv'd, but that your worship broke me, With trusting you with muscadine and eggs, And five pound suppers, with your after-drinkings, When you lodged upon the bankside.

_Wellb._ I remember.

_1 Cred._ I have not been hasty, nor e'er laid to arrest you; And therefore, sir----

_Wellb._ Thou art an honest fellow: I'll set thee up again: see this bill paid. What are you?

_2 Cred._ A tailor once, but now mere botcher. I gave you credit for a suit of clothes, Which was all my stock; but you failing in payment, I was remov'd from the shop-board, and confin'd Under a stall.

_Wellb._ See him paid; and botch no more.

_2 Cred._ I ask no interest, sir.

_Wellb._ Such tailors need not: If their bills are paid in one and twenty years, They are seldom losers. See all men else discharg'd; And since old debts are clear'd by a new way, A little bounty will not misbecome me. Pray you, on before. I'll attend you at dinner.

_Greedy._ For Heaven's sake, don't stay long; It is almost ready.

[_Exeunt_ Greedy, Order, Furnace Amble, _and_ Creditors.

_Wellb._ Now, Mr. Marall, what's the weighty secret, You promis'd to impart?

_Mar._ Sir, time nor place Allow me to relate each circumstance; This only in a word: I know Sir Giles Will come upon you for security For his thousand pounds: which you must not consent to. As he grows in heat (as I am sure he will) Be you but rough, and say he's in your debt Ten times the sum, upon sale of your land: I had a hand in't (I speak it to my shame) When you were defeated of it.

_Wellb._ That's forgiven.

_Mar._ I shall deserve then----urge him to produce The deed in which you pass'd it over to him, Which I know he'll have about him to deliver To the Lord Lovell. I'll instruct you farther, As I wait on your worship; if I play not my part To your full content, and your uncle's much vexation, Hang up Jack Marall.

_Wellb._ I rely upon thee. [_Exeunt._