SCENE III. A room in Sir Oliver Muckhill’s house.
[Enter Sir Oliver Muckhill, Sir Andrew Tipstaff, and old
Skirmish talking.]
MUCK.
O monstrous, un-heard of forgery.
TIP. Knight, I never heard of such villainy in our own country in my life.
MUCH.
Why, ’tis impossible; dare you maintain your words?
SKIRMISH. Dare we? een to their wezen pipes. We know all their plots, they cannot squander with us; they have knavishly abused us, made only properties on’s to advance their selves upon our shoulders, but they shall rue their abuses. This morning they are to be married.
MUCK. Tis too true; yet if the Widdow be not too much besotted on slights and forgeries, the revelation of their villainies will make ’em loathsome: and to that end, be it in private to you, I sent late last night to an honorable personage, to whom I am much indebted in kindness, as he is to me, and therefore presume upon the payment of his tongue, and that he will lay out good words for me: and to speak truth, for such needful occasions, I only preserve him in bond, and some-times he may do me more good here in the City by a free word of his mouth, then if he had paid one half in hand, and took Doomesday for t’other.
TIP. In troth, Sir, without soothing be it spoken, you have publisht much judgment in these few words.
MUCK. For you know, what such a man utters will be though effectual and to weighty purpose, and therefore into his mouth we’ll put the approved theme of their forgeries.
SKIRMISH.
And I’ll maintain it, Knight, if ye’ll be true.
[Enter a servant.]
MUCK.
How now, fellow?
SERVANT.
May it please you, Sir, my Lord is newly lighted from his
Coach.
MUCK.
Is my Lord come already? His honor’s early.
You see he loves me well: up before seven!
Trust me, I have found his night capt at eleven.
There’s good hope yet; come, I’ll relate all to him.
[Exeunt.]