FRISKIBALL.
O Friskiball, what shall become of thee?
Where shalt thou go, or which way shalt thou turn
Fortune, that turns her too unconstant wheel,
Hath turned thy wealth and riches in the Sea.
All parts abroad where ever I have been
Grows weary of me, and denies me succour;
My debtors, they that should relieve my want,
Forswears my money, says they owe me none:
They know my state too mean to bear out law,
And here in London, where I oft have been,
And have done good to many a wretched man,
I am now most wretched here, despised my self.
In vain it is, more of their hearts to try;
Be patient, therefore, lay thee down and die.
[He lies down.]
[Enter good man Seely, and his wife Joan.]
SEELY. Come, Joan, come; let's see what he'll do for us now. Iwis we have done for him, when many a time and often he might have gone a hungry to bed.
WIFE. Alas, man, now he is made a Lord, he'll never look upon us; he'll fulfill the old Proverb: Set beggars a horse-back, and they'll ride.—A, welliday for my Cow! such as he hath made us come behind hand: we had never pawned our Cow else to pay our rent.
SEELY. Well, Joan, he'll come this way: and by God's dickers, I'll tell him roundly of it, and if he were ten Lords: a shall know that I had not my Cheese and my Bacon for nothing.
WIFE. Do you remember, husband, how he would mooch up my Cheese cakes? he hath forgot this now, but we'll remember him.
SEELY.
Aye, we shall have now three flaps with a Fox tail; but,
I faith, I'll gibber a joint, but I'll tell him his own. Stay,
who comes here? O stand up; here he comes; stand up.
[Enter Hodge very fine with a Tipstaff; Cromwell, the Mace carried before him; Norfolk, and Suffolk, and attendants.]
HODGE.
Come, away with these beggars here; rise up, sirra.
Come, out the good people: run afore there, ho!