Credit must be maintained, which will not be without money; good
clothes must be had, which will not be without money; company must be
kept, which will not be without money; all which we must have, and from
him we will have money.

JOHN. Besides, we have brought our sister to this town,
That she herself, having her own from him,
Might bring herself in court to be preferr'd
Under some noble personage; or else that he,
Whose friends are great in court by his late match,
As he is in nature bound, provide for her.

THOM. And he shall do it, brother, though we have waited at his lodging
longer than a tailor's bill on a young knight for an old reckoning,
without speaking with him. Here we know he is, and we will call him to
parley.

JOHN. Yet let us do't in mild and gentle terms;
Fair words perhaps may sooner draw our own
Than rougher course,[390] by which is mischief grown.

_Enter_ DRAWER.

DRAW. Anon, anon. Look down into the Dolphin[391] there.

THOM. Here comes a drawer, we will question him. Do you hear, my friend?
is not Master Scarborow here?

DRAW. Here, sir! what a jest is that! where should he be else? I would
have you well know my master hopes to grow rich,[392] before he leave
him.

JOHN. How long hath he continued here, since he came hither?

DRAW. Faith, sir, not so long as Noah's flood, yet long enough to have
drowned up the livings of three knights, as knights go nowadays--some
month, or thereabouts.

JOHN. Time ill-consum'd to ruinate our house;
But what are they that keep him company?

DRAW. Pitch, pitch; but I must not say so; but, for your further
satisfaction, did you ever see a young whelp and a lion play together?

JOHN. Yes.

DRAW. Such is Master Scarborow's company.[393]
[_Within, Oliver_!
Anon, anon, look down to the Pomegranate[394] there.

THOM. I prythee, say here's them would speak with him.

DRAW. I'll do your message. Anon, anon, there.
[_Exit_.

JOHN. This fool speaks wiser than he is aware.
Young heirs left in this town, where sin's so rank,
And prodigals gape to grow fat by them,
Are like young whelps thrown in the lions' den,
Who play with them awhile, at length devour them.

_Enter_ SCARBOROW.

SCAR. Who's there would speak with me?

JOHN. Your brothers, who are glad to see you well.

SCAR. Well.

JOHN. 'Tis not your riot, that we hear you use
With such as waste their good