Part 102 (1/2)

CROP. Fool! Let him pay the fool his money, and he'll be gone.

JOLLY. No, sir, not a farthing. 'Twas my business to borrow it, and it shall be yours to get it in again. Nay, by this hand, I'll be feasted too, and have good words. Nay, thou shalt lend me more, ere thou gett'st this again.

CROP. I'll lay my action upon you.

JOLLY. Your action! You rogue, lay two.

[_They kick him, and thrust him out of the room._[246]

CARE. Lay three for battery.--What have we here? A she-creditor, too? Who would she speak with?

_Enter_ FAITHFUL. WILD _and_ CARELESS _return and meet her_.

WILD. She looks as if she had trusted in her time.

CARE. Would you speak with any here, old gentlewoman?

FAITH. My business is to Master Jolly.

CARE. From yourself, or are you but a messenger?

FAITH. My business, sir, is from a lady.

CARE. From a lady! From what lady, pray? Why so coy?

FAITH. From a lady in the town.

CARE. Hoh, hoh! from a lady in the town! Is it possible? I should have guessed you came from a lady in the suburbs or some country-madam by your riding face.

_Enter_ JOLLY _again_.

JOLLY. I think we have routed the rascals. Faithful! what makes thy gravity in a tavern?

FAITH. Sport, it seems, for your saucy companions.

JOLLY. Ho, ho, Mull,[247] ho! No fury, Faithful.

FAITH. 'Tis well, sir. My lady presents her service to you, and hath sent you a letter: there's my business.

CARE. Prythee, who is her lady?

JOLLY. The Lady Loveall.

CARE. O, O, does she serve that old lady? G.o.d help her!

FAITH. G.o.d help her! Pray for yourself, sir: my lady scorns your prayers.

JOLLY. Faithful, come hither. Prythee, is thy lady drunk?

FAITH. Drunk, sir?