Enter the Tailor that peeps.
Tai. A tailor, an't like your worship.
Care. A tailor! Hast thou a stout faith?
Tai. I have had, an't like your worship; but now I am in despair.
Care. Why, then, thou art damned. Go, go home, and throw thyself into thine own hell; it is the next way to the other.
Tai. I hope your worship is not displeased.
Care. What dost do here? A tailor without faith! Dost come to take measure of ours?
Tai. No; I come to speak with one Master Jolly, a courtier; a very fine-spoken gentleman and a just counter, but one of the worst paymasters in the world.
Wild. As thou lov'st me, let's keep him here till he comes, and make him valiant with sack, that he may urge him till he beats him. We shall have the sport, and be revenged upon the rogue for dunning a gentleman in a tavern.