The first part of the true and honorable historie, of the life of Sir Iohn Old-castle,
the good Lord Cobham As it hath been lately acted by the right honorable
the Earle of Notingham Lord high Admirall of England his seruants.
A machine-readable version of Sir John Oldcastle
compiled by
Alexis Antonia
: Printed by V[alentine] S[immes] for Thomas Pauier,
and are to be solde at his shop at the signe of the Catte and Parrots
neere the Exchange, 1600.
London
1600
XSLT translation from Chadwyck-Healey
Early English books online.
(EEBO-TCP; phase 1, no. A08469)
Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 6664)
Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 387:10)
STC 18795
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Bibliographic details for the Source Text
Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei. xsl,
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The characters are identified by IDREF pointing to information in
the following declarations.
Sir Roger Acton
Bishop of Rochester
Lord Cobham/Sir John Oldcastle
Lord Scroop
Earl of Cambridge
Duke of Suffolk
Lord Grey
Lord Herbert
2 Judge
1 Judge
King Harry (HenryV)
Doll
Mayor of Hereford
Sir John the Parson of Wrotham
Chartres
Lord Powis
Murley the Brewer
Harpool
Sheriff
Bourn
Butler
Beverley
Earl of Huntingham
Combined speech
Bayliff
Sumner
Prologue
Sir Richard Lee
Lady Cobham
Constable
Davy
Lady Powis
Dick
Gough
1 speaker
4 speaker
2 speaker
Tom
Aleman
Old Man
Lord Warden
Owen
Croomes
3 speaker
Lieftenant
Irishman
1 Soldier
2 Soldier
1 Servant
2 Servant
Host
Officer
Club
Ostler
Kate
Carrier
Robin
The languages (other than English) which occur in the text are identified
by idREF which point to the following.
Latin
French
Italian
The first part Of the true and honorable historie,
of the life of Sir John Old-castle, the good Lord Cobham. As it hath been lately
acted by the right honorable the Earle of Notingham Lord high
Admirall of England his seruants.
LONDON Printed by V. S. for Thomas Pauier, and are to be solde at his shop at the
signe of the Catte and Parrots neere the Exchange. 1600.
The Prologue.
THe doubtful Tule (Gentlemen) prefixed
Upon the Argument we have in hand,
May breed suspense, and wrongfully disturb
The peaceful quiet of your settled thoughts:
To stop which scruple, let this brief suffice.
It is no pampered glutton we present,
Nor aged Councillor to youthful sin,
But one, whose virtue shone above the rest,
A valiant Martyr, and a virtuous peer,
In whose true faith and loyalty expressed
Unto his sovereign, and his countries weal:
We strive to pay that tribute of our Love,
Your favours merit, let fair Truth be graced,
Since forged invention former time defaced.
In the fight, enter the Sheriffe and two of his men.
Sheriffe.
MY Lords, I charge ye in his Highness name,
To keep the peace, you, and your followers.
Herb.
Good M. Sheriff, look unto yourself.
Pow.
Do so, for we have other business.
Proffer to fight againe
Sher.
Will ye disturb the Judges, and the Assize?
Hear the Kings proclamation ye were best.
Pow.
Hold then, let us hear it.
Herb.
But be brief, ye were best.
Bayl.
O yes.
Dauy
Cossone, make shorter O, or shall mar your Yes.
Bay.
O yes.
Owen
What, has her nothing to say but O yes?
Bay.
O yes.
Da.
O nay, pye Cosse plut down with her, down with her,
A Pawesse a Pawesse.
Gough
A Herbert a Herbert, and down with Powesse.
Helter skelter againe.
Sher.
Hold, in the Kings name, hold.
Owen
Down in the knaves name, down.
In this fight, the Bailiffe is knocked downe, and the Sheriffe and the other runne away.
Herb.
Powesse, I think thy Welsh and thou do smart.
Pow.
Herbert, I think my sword came near thy heart.
Herb.
Thy hearts best blood shall pay the loss of mine.
Gough
A Herbert a Herbert.
Dauy
A Pawesse a Pawesse.
As they are lifting their weapons, enter the Maior of Hereford,
and his Officers and Townes men with clubbes.
Maior
My Lords, as you are liege men to the Crown,
True noblemen, and subjects to the King,
Attend his Highness proclamation,
Commanded by the Judges of Assize,
For keeping peace at this assembly.
Herb.
Good M. Mayor of Hereford be brief.
Mai.
Sergeant, without the ceremony of O yes.
Pronounce aloud the proclamation.
Ser.
The Kings Justices, perceiving what
public mischief may ensue
this private quarrel in his majesties name
do straightly charge and command all persons,
of what degree soever, to depart this city of Hereford,
except such as are bound to give
attendance at this Assize, and that no man presume to wear any weapon,
especially welsh-hooks, forest bills.
Owen
Haw, no pill nor wells hoog? ha?
Ma.
Peace, and hear the proclamation.
Ser.
And that the Lord Powesse do presently disperse and discharge his retinue, and depart
the city in the Kings peace, he and his followers, on pain of imprisonment.
Dauy
Haw? put her Lord Pawesse in prison, A Pawes
A Pawesse, cossone live and tie with her Lord.
Gough
A Herbert a Herbert.
In this fight the Lord Herbert is wounded, and fals to the ground, the Maior and his
company goe away crying clubbes, Powesse runnes away, Gough and other of Herberts faction
busie themselues about Herbert: enters the two Iudges in their roabes,
the Sheriffe" and his Baileffes afore them, &c.
1. Iud.
Where is the Lord Herbert? is he hurt or slain?
Sher.
He is here my Lord.
2. Iud.
How fares hid Lordship, friends?
Gough
Mortally wounded, speechless, he cannot live.
1. Iud
Convey him hence, let not his wounds take air,
And get him dressed with expedition,
Ex. Herb. and Gough
M. Mayor of Hereford M Snriue of the shire,
Commit Lord Powesse to safe custody,
To answer the disturbance of the peace,
Lord Herberts peril, and his high contempt
Of us, and you the Kings commissioners,
See it be done with care and diligence.
Sher.
Please it your Lordship, my Lord Powesse is gone,
Past all recovery.
2. Iud.
Yet let search be made,
To apprehend his followers that are left.
Sher.
There are some of them, sirs, lay hold on them,
Owen
Of us, and why? what has her done I pray you?
Sher.
Disarm them Bailiffs.
Ma.
Officers assist.
Dauy
Hear you Lor Judge, what reason is for this?
Owen
Cosson pe puse for fighting for our Lord?
1. Iudge
Away with them.
Dauy
Harg you my Lord.
Owen
Gough my Lord Herberts man is a shitten knave,
Both at once al this
Dauy
I live and die in good quarrel.
Owen
Pray you do justice, let awl be prison.
Dauy
Prison no,
Lord judge I will give you pale, good surety.
2. Iudge
What Bale? what sureties?
Dauy
Her cousin ap Ries, ap Euan, ap Morrice, ap Morgan,
ap Lluellyn, ap Madoc, ap Meredith, ap Griffen, ap Dauy, ap Owen ap Shinken Shones.
2 Iudge.
Two of the most, sufficient are enough,
Sher.
If it please your Lordship these are all but one.
1. Iudge
To Jail with them, and the Lord Herberts men,
We will talk with them, when the Assize is done,
Exeunt.
Riotous, audacious, and unruly Grooms,
Must we be forced to come from the Bench,
To quiet brawls, which every Constable
In other civil places can suppress?
2. Iudge
What was the quarrel that caused all this stir?
Sher.
About religion (as I heard) my Lord.
Lord Powesse detracted from the power of Rome,
Affirming Wickliffes doctrine to be true,
And Rome's erroneous: hot reply was made
By the lord Herbert, they were traitors all
That would maintain it: Powesse answered,
They were as true, as noble, and as wise
As he, that would defend it with their lives,
He named for instance sir Iohn Old-castle
The Lord Cobham: Herbert replied again,
He, thou, and all are traitors that so hold.
Then he was given, the several factions drawn,
And so enraged, that we could not appease it.
1. Iudge
This case concerns the Kings prerogative,
And it is dangerous to the State and common wealth.
Gentlemen, Justices, master Mayor, and master Shrieve,
It doth behove us all, and each of us
In general and particular, to have care
For the suppressing of all mutinies,
And all assemblies, except soldiers musters
For the Kings preparation into France.
We hear of secret conventicles made,
And there is doubt of some conspiracies,
Which may break out into rebellious arms
When the King is gone, perchance before he go:
Note as an instance, this one perilous fray,
What factions might have grown on either part,
To the destruction of the King and Realm,
Yet, in my conscience, sir Iohn Old-castle
Innocent of it, only his name was used.
We therefore from his Highness give this charge.
You master Mayor, look to your citizens,
You master Sheriff unto your shire, and you
As Justices in every ones precinct
There be no meetings. When the vulgar sort
Sit on their Ale-bench, with their cups and cans,
Matters of state be not their common talk,
Nor pure religion by their lips profaned.
Let us return unto the Bench again,
And there examine further of this fray.
Enter a Baily and a Serieant
Sher.
Sirs, have ye taken the lord Powesse yet?
Ba.
No, nor heard of him.
Ser.
No, he is gone far enough.
2. Iu.
They that are left behind, shall answer all.
Exeunt.
Enter Suffolke, Bishop of Rochester, Butler, parson of Wrotham.
Suffolke
Now my lord Bishop, take free liberty
To speak your mind: what is your
suit to us?
Bishop
My noble Lord, no more than what you know,
And have been oftentimes invested with:
Grievous complaints have past between the lips
Of envious persons to upbraid the Clergy,
Some carping at the livings which we have,
And others spurning at the ceremonies
That are of ancient custom in the church.
Amongst the which, Lord Cobham is a chief:
What inconvenience may proceed hereof,
Both to the King and to the common wealth,
May easily be discerned, when like a frenzy
This innovation shall possess their minds.
These upstarts will have followers to uphold
Their damned opinion, more than Harry shall
To undergo his quarrel against the French.
Suffolke
What proof is there against them to be had,
That what you say the law may justify?
Bishop
They give themselves the name of Protestants,
And meet in fields and solitary groves.
sir Ihon
Was ever heard (my Lord) the like till now?
That thieves and rebels, sblood heretics,
Plain heretics, I will
stand to it to their teeth,
Should have to colour, their vile practises,
A title of such worth, as Protestant?
enter one wyth a letter.
Suf.
O but you must not swear, it ill becomes
One of your coat, to rap out bloody oaths.
Bish.
Pardon him good my Lord, it is his zeal,
An honest country prelate, who laments
To see such foul disorder in the church.
Sir Iohn
There is one they call him Sir Iohn Old-castle,
He has not his name for nought: for like a castle
Doth he encompass them within his walls,
But till that castle be subverted quite,
We never shall be at quiet in the realm.
Bish.
That is our suit, my Lord, that he be taken,
And brought in question for his heresy,
Beside, two letters brought me out of Wales,
Wherein my Lord Herford writes to me,
What tumult and sedition was begun,
About the Lord Cobham, at the Assizes there,
For they had much ado to calm the rage,
And that the valiant Herbert is there slain.
Suf.
A fire that must be quenched; well, say no more,
The King anon goes to the counsel chamber,
There to debate of matters touching France:
As he doth pass by, I will inform his grace
Concerning your petition: Master Butler,
If I forget, do you remember me,
But.
I will my Lord.
Offer him a purse.
Bish.
Not for a recompense,
But as a token of our love to you,
By me my Lords of the clergy do present
This purse, and in it full a thousand Angels,
Praying your Lordship to accept their gift.
Suf.
I thank them, my Lord Bishop, for their love,
But will not take their money, if you please
To give it to this gentleman, you may.
Bish.
Sir, then we crave your furtherance herein.
But.
The best I can my Lord of Rochester.
Bish.
Nay, pray ye take it, trust me but you shall,
sir Iohn
Were ye all three upon New Market heath,
You should not need strain curtsy
who should have it,
Sir Iohn would quickly rid ye of that care.
Suf
The King is coming, fear ye not my Lord,
The very first thing I will break with him,
Shall be about your matter.
Enter K. Harry and Huntington in talke.
Har.
My Lord of Suffolke,
Was it not said the Clergy did refuse
To lend us money toward our wars in France?
Suf.
It was my Lord, but very wrongfully.
Har.
I know it was, for Huntington here tells me,
They have been very bountiful of late.
Suf.
And still they vow my gracious Lord to be so,
Hoping your majesty will think of them,
As of your loving subjects, and suppress
All such malicious errors as begin
To spot their calling, and disturb the church.
Har.
God else forbid: why Suffolke, is there
Any new rupture to disquiet them?
Suf.
No new my Lord, the old is great enough,
And so increasing as if not cut down,
Will breed a scandal to your royal state,
And set your Kingdom quickly in an uproar,
The Kentish knight Lord Cobham, in despite
Of any law, or spiritual discipline,
Maintains this upstart new religion still,
And divers great assemblies by his means
And private quarrels, are commenced abroad,
As by this letter more at large my liege,
Is made apparent.
Har.
We do find it here,
There was in Wales a certain fray of late,
Between two noblemen, but what of this?
Follows it straight Lord Cobham must be he
Did cause the same? I dare be sworn (good knight)
He never dreamt of any such contention.
Bish.
But in his name the quarrel did begin,
About the opinion which he held (my liege. )
Har.
How if it did? was either he in place,
To take part with them, or abet them in it?
If brabbling fellows, whose in kindled blood,
Seethes in their fiery veins, will needs go fight,
Making their quarrels of some words that passed,
Either of you, or you, amongst their cups,
Is the fault yours, or are they guilty of it?
Suffolke
With pardon of your Highness (my dread lord)
Such little sparks neglected, may in time
Grow to a mighty flame: but that is not all,
He doth beside maintain a strange religion,
And will not be compelled to come to mass.
Bish.
We do beseech you therefore gracious prince,
Without offence unto your majesty
We may be bold to use authority.
Harry
As how?
Bishop
To summon him unto the Arches,
Where such offences have their punishment.
Harry
To answer personally, is that your meaning?
Bishop
It is, my lord.
Harry
How if he appeal?
Bishop
He cannot (my Lord) in such a case as this.
Suffolke
Not where Religion is the plea, my lord.
Harry
I took it always, that ourself stood out,
As a sufficient refuge, unto whom
Not any but might lawfully appeal.
But we will not argue now upon that point:
For sir Iohn Old-castle whom you accuse,
Let me entreat you to dispense awhile
With your high title of pre-eminence.
in scorne.
Report did never yet condemn him so,
But he hath always been reputed loyal:
And in my knowledge I can say thus much,
That he is virtuous, wise, and honourable:
If any way his conscience be seduced,
To waver in his faith: I will send for him,
And school him privately, if that serve not,
Then afterward you may proceed against him.
Butler, be you the messenger for us,
And will him presently repair to court.
exeunt.
sir Iohn
How now my lord, why stand you discontent?
In sooth, methinks the King hath well decreed.
Bishop
Yea, yea, sir Iohn, if he would keep his word,
But I perceive he favours him so much,
As this will be to small effect, I fear.
sir Iohn
Why then I will tell you what you are best to do:
If you suspect the King will be but cold
In reprehending him, send you a process too
To serve upon him: so you may be sure
To make him answer it, howsoever it fall.
Bishop
And well remembered, I will have it so,
A Summoner shall be sent about it strait
Exit.
sir Iohn
Yea, do so, in the mean space this remains
For kind sir Iohn of Wrotham honest Iacke.
Methinks the purse of gold the Bishop gave,
Made a good show, it had a tempting look,
Beshrew me, but my fingers ends do itch
To be upon those rudduks: well, it is thus:
I am not as the world does take me for:
If ever wolf were clothed in
sheeps coat,
Then I am he, old huddle and twang, in faith,
A priest in show, but in plain
terms, a thief,
Yet let me tell you too, an honest thief.
One that will take it where it may besp.
And spend it freely in good fellowship.
I have as many shapes as Proteus had,
That still when any villainy is done,
There may be none suspect it was sir Iohn.
Besides, to comfort me, for what is this life,
Except the crabbed bitterness thereof
Be sweetened now and then with lechery?
I have my Doll, my concubine as it were,
To frolic with, a lusty bouncing girl.
But whilst I loiter here the gold, may scape,
And that must not be so, it is mine own,
Therefore I will meet him on his way to court,
And shrive him of it: there will be the sport.
Exit.
Enter three or foure poore people, some souldiers, some old men.
1
God help, God help, there is law for punishing,
But there is no law for our necessity:
There be more stocks to set poor soldiers in,
Than there be houses to relieve them at.
Old man
Faith, housekeeping decays in every place,
Even as Saint Peter writ, still worse and worse
4
Master mayor of Rochester has given
commandment,
that none shall go abroad out of the parish,
and they have set an order down
forsooth, what every poor householder
must give towards our relief:
where there be some ceased I may say to you, had almost as much need to beg as we.
1
It is a hard world the while.
Old man
If a poor man come to a door to ask
for Gods sake, they ask him for a licence,
or a certificate from a Justice.
2
Faith we have none, but what we bear upon our bodies,
our maimed limbs, God help us.
4
And yet, as lame as I am, I will with the king into France,
if I can crawl but a shipboard,
I had rather be slain in France, than starve in England.
Olde man.
Ha, were I but as lusty as I was at the battle of Shrewsbury, I would not do as I do:
but we are now come to the good lord Cobhams, to the best man to the poor that
is in all Kent.
4
God bless him, there be but few such.
Enter Lord Cobham with Harpoole.
Cob.
Thou peevish froward man, what wouldst thou have?
Harp.
This pride, this pride, brings all to beggary,
I served your father, and your grandfather,
Show me such two men now: no, no,
Your backs, your backs, the devil and pride,
Has cut the throat of all good housekeeping,
They were the best Yeoman's masters, that
Ever were in England.
Cob.
Yea, except thou have a crew of silly knaves,
And sturdy rogues, still feeding at my gate,
There is no hospitality with thee.
Harp.
They may sit at the gate well enough, but the devil of anything
you give them, except they will eat stones.
Cob.
It is long then of such hungry knaves as you,
pointing to the beggars
Yea sir, here is your retinue, your guests be come,
They know their hours I warrant you.
Old.
God bless your honour, God save the good Lord Cobham, and all his house,
Soul.
Good your honour, bestow your blessed alms,
Upon poor men.
Cob.
Now sir, here be your Alms knights.
Now are you as safe as the Emperor.
Harp.
My Alms knights: nay, they are yours,
It is a shame for you, and I will stand to it,
Your foolish alms maintains more vagabonds,
Than all the noblemen in Kent beside.
Out you rogues, you knaves, work for your livings,
Alas poor men, O Lord, they may beg their hearts out,
There is no more charity amongst men,
Than amongst so many mastiff dogs,
What make you here, you needy knaves?
Away, away, you villains.
2. soul.
I beseech you sit, be good to us.
Cobham
Nay, nay, they know thee well enough, I think that all the beggars in this land are thy acquaintance,
go bestow your alms, none will control you sir.
Harp.
What should I give them? you are grown so beggarly,
you have scarce a bit of bread
to give at your door: you talk of your religion so long,
that you have banished charity from amongst you, a man may make
a flax shop in your kitchen chimneys, for any fire there is stirring.
Cobham
If thou wilt give them nothing, send them hence, let them not stand here
starving in the cold.
Harp.
Who I drive them hence? if I drive poor
men from your door, I will be hanged, I know not what
I may come tomyself: yea, God help you poor
knaves, ye see the world in faith, well, you had a mother:
well, God be with thee good Lady, thy soul is at rest: she gave
more in shirts and smocks to poor children,
than you spend in your house, and yet you live a beggar too.
Cobham
Even the worst deed that ere my mother did, was in
relieving such a fool as thou.
Harpoole
Yea, yea, I am a fool still, with all your wit you will die a beggar, go too.
Cobham
Go you old fool, give the poor
people something, go in poor men
into the inner court, and take such alms as there is to be had.
Souldier
God bless your honour.
Harpoole
Hang you rogues, hang you, there is nothing but misery amongst you,
you fear no law you.
Exit.
Olde man
God bless you good master Rafe, God save your life,
you are good to the poor still.
Enter the Lord Powes disguised, and shrowde himselfe.
Cobham
What fellow is yonder comes along the grove?
Few passengers there be that know this way:
Methinks he stops as though he stayed for me,
And meant to shroud himself amongst the bushes.
I know the Clergy hate me to the death,
And my religion gets me many foes:
And this may be some desperate rogue,
Suborned to work me mischief: As it
Pleaseth God, if he come toward me, sure
I will stay his coming, be he but one man,
What soever he be:
The Lord Powis comes on.
I have been well acquainted with that face.
Powis
Well met my honourable lord and friend.
Cobham
You are welcome sir, what ere you be,
But of this sudden sir, I do not know you.
Powis
I am one that wisheth well unto your honour,
My name is Powes, an old friend of yours.
Cobham
My honourable lord, and worthy friend,
What makes your lordship thus alone in Kent,
And thus disguised in this strange attire?
Powis
My Lord, an unexpected accident,
Hath at this time enforced me to these parts:
And thus it happed, not yet full five days since,
Now at the last Assize at Hereford,
It chanced that the lord Herbert and myself,
Amongst other things, discoursing at the table,
To fall in speech about some certain points
Of Wickcliffes doctrine, against the papacy,
And the religion catholic, maintained
Through the most part of Europe at this day.
This wilful testy lord stuck not to say,
That Wickcliffe was a knave, a schismatics,
His doctrine devilish and heretical,
And what soever he was maintained the same,
was traitor both to God and to his country.
Being moved at his peremptory speech,
I told him, some maintained those opinions,
Men, and truer subjects than lord Herbert was:
And he replying in comparisons:
Your name was urged, my lord, against his challenge,
To be a perfect favourer of the truth.
And to be short, from words we fell to blows,
Our servants, and our tenants taking parts,
Many on both sides hurt: and for an hour
The broil by no means could be pacified,
Until the Judges rising from the bench,
Were in their persons forced to part the fray.
Cobham
I hope no man was violently slain.
Powis
Faith none I trust, but the lord Herberts self,
Who is in truth so dangerously hurt,
As it is doubted he can hardly scape.
Cobham
I am sorry, my good lord, of these ill news.
Powis
This is the cause that drives me into Kent,
To shroud myself with you so good a friend,
Until I hear how things do speed at home.
Cobham
Your lordship is most welcome unto Cobham,
But I am very sorry, my good lord,
My name was brought in question in this matter,
Considering I have many enemies,
That threaten malice, and do lie in wait
To take advantage of the smallest thing.
But you are welcome, and repose your lordship,
And keep yourself here secret in my house,
Until we hear how the lord Herbert speeds:
Here comes my man.
Enter Harpoole.
Sirrah, what news?
Harpoole
Yonder is one master Butler of the privy chamber,
is sent unto you from the King.
Powis
I pray God the lord Herbert be not dead, and the King hearing whither I am gone, hath sent for me.
Cob.
Comfort yourself my lord, I warrant you.
Harpoole
Fellow, what ails thee? doest thou quake? dost thou shake? dost thou tremble? ha?
Cob.
Peace you old fool, sirrah, convey
this gentleman in the back way, and bring the other into the walk.
Harpoole
Come sir. you are welcome, if you love my lord.
Powis
God have mercy gentle friend.
exeunt.
Cob.
I thought as much, that it would not be long before I
heard of something from the King, about this matter.
Enter Harpoole with Maister Butler.
Harpoole
Sir, yonder my lord walks, you see him,
I will have your men into the Cellar the while.
Cobh.
welcome good master Butler.
Butler
Thanks, my good lord: his Majesty doth
commend his love
unto your lordship, and wills you to repair
unto the court.
Cobh.
God bless his Highness, and confound his
enemies, I hope his Majesty is well.
Butler
In health, my lord.
Cobh.
God long continue it: methinks you look as though you were not well,
what ails you sir?
Butler
Faith I have had a foolish odd mischance, that angers me:
coming over Shooters hill, there came a fellow to me like
a Sailor, and asked me money,
and whilst I staid my horse to draw my purse, he takes the advantage
of a little bank
and leaps behind me, whips my purse away,
and with a sudden jerk
I know not how, threw me at least three yards out of my saddle. I never was so robbed in all my life.
Cobh.
I am very sorry sir for your mischance, we will
send our warrant forth, to stay such suspicious
persons as shall be found, then master Butler, we will attend you.
Butler
I humbly thank your lordship, I will attend you.
Enter the Sumner.
Sum.
I have the law to warrant what I do, and though the Lord Cobham be a noble man, that dispenses not with law,
I dare serve process were a five noble men,
though we Summoners make
sometimes a mad slip in a corner with a pretty wench, a Summoner
must not go always by seeing,
a man may be content to hide his eyes, where he may feel
his profit: well, this is my Lord Cobhams house,
if I can devise to speak with him, if not, I will clap my citation
upon his door, so my lord of Rochester bid me,
but methinks here comes one of his men.
Enter Harpoole.
Harp.
Welcome good fellow, welcome, who wouldst thou
speak with?
Sum.
With my lord Cobham, I would speak, if thou be one of his men.
Harp.
Yes I am one of his men, but thou canst not speak with my lord.
Sum.
May I send to him them?
Harp.
I will tell thee that, when I know thy errand.
Sum.
I will not tell my errand to thee.
Harp.
Then keep it to thyself, and walk
like a knave as thou camest.
Sum.
I tell thee my lord keeps no knaves, sirrah.
Harp.
Then thou servest him not, I believe, what lord is thy master?
Sum.
My lord of Rochester.
Harp.
In good time, and what wouldst thou have with my lord Cobham?
Sum.
I come by virtue of a process, to ascite him to
appear before my lord, in the court at Rochester.
aside.
Harp
Well, God grant me patience, I could eat this conger. My lord is not at home, therefore it were good
Summoner you carried your process back.
Sum.
Why, if he will not be spoken withal, then will I leave it here,
and see you that he take knowledge of it.
Harp.
'swounds you slave, do you set up your bills here,
go to, take it down again, doest thou know what thou dost,
dost thee know on whom thou servest process?
Sum.
Yes marry do I, Sir Iohn Old-castle Lord Cobham.
Harp.
I am glad thou knowest him yet, and sirrah dost not thou know, that the lord Cobham is a brave lord,
that keeps good beef and beer in his house,
and every day feeds a hundred poor people at his gate,
and keeps a hundred tall fellows?
Sum.
What is that to my process?
Harp.
Mary this sir, is this process parchment?
Sum.
Yes mary.
Harp.
And this seal wax?
Sum.
It is so.
Harp.
If this be parchment, and this wax, eat you this parchment, and this wax,
or I will make parchment of your skin, and beat
your brains into wax: Sirrah
Summoner dispatch, devour, sirrah devour.
Sum.
I am my lord of Rochesters Summoner, I came to do my office, and thou shalt answer it.
Harp.
Sirrah, no railing, but betake you to your teeth, thou shalt
eat no worse than thou bringest with thee,
thou bringest it for my lord, and wilt thou bring my lord worse
than thou wilt eat thyself?
Sum.
Sir, I brought it not my lord to eat.
Harp.
O do you sir me now, all is one for that, but I will
make you eat it, for bringing it.
Sum.
I cannot eat it.
Harp.
Can you not? 'sblood I will beat you until
you have a stomach.
he beates him.
Sum.
O hold, hold, good master serving-man, I will eat it.
Harp.
Be champing, be chewing sir, or I will
chew you, you rogue, the purest of the honey.
Sum.
Tough wax, is the purest of the honey.
Harp.
O Lord sir, o o,
he eates.
Feed, feed, wholesome rogue, wholesome.
Cannot you like an honest Summoner walk
with the devil your brother, to fetch in your Bailiffs rents,
but you must come to a noble man's house with process?
'sblood if thy seal were as broad as
the lead that covers Rochester church, thou shouldest eat it.
Sum.
O I am almost choked, I am almost choked.
Harp.
Who is within there? will you shame my Lord,
is there no beer in the house? Butler I say.
But.
Hear, here.
Enter Butler.
Harp.
Give him Beer.
he drinkes.
There, tough old sheepskins, bare dry meat.
Sum.
O sir, let me go no further, I will eat my word.
Harp.
Yea mary sir, so I mean you shall eat more than your own word,
for I will make you eat all the
words in the process. Why you drab monger, cannot the secrets of all
the wenches in a shire serve your turn, but you must come hither
with a citation with a pox? I will cite you.
he has then done.
A cup of sack for the Summoner.
But.
Here sir here.
Harp.
Here slave I drink to thee.
Sum.
I thank you sir.
Harp.
Now if thou findest thy stomach well,
because thou shalt see my Lord keep his meat in his house,
if thou wilt go in thou shalt have a piece of beef to thy break fast.
Sum.
No I am very well good M. serving-man, I thank you, very well sir.
Harp.
I am glad on it, then be walking towards Rochester to
keep your stomach warm: and Summoner,
if I may know you disturb a good wench within this Diocese,
if I do not make thee eat her petticoat,
if there were four yards of Kentish cloth in it, I am a villain.
Sum.
God be with you M. serving-man.
Harp.
Farewell Sumner.
Enter Constable.
Con.
God save you M. Harpoole.
Harp.
Welcome Constable, welcome Constable, what news with thee?
Con.
If it please you M. Harpoole, I am to make hue to cry,
for a fellow with one eye that has robbed two Clothiers,
and am to crave your hindrance, for to search all suspected places, and they say there was a woman in the company.
Harp.
Hast thou been at the Alehouse, hast thou sought there?
Con.
I durst not search sir, in my Lord Cobhams liberty,
except I had some of his servants, which are for my warrant.
Harp.
An honest Constable, an honest Constable, call forth him that
keeps the Alehouse there.
Con.
Ho, who is within there?
Ale man
Who calls there, come near a Gods name, o is it
you M. Constable and M. Harpoole, you are welcome with all my heart, what make you here so early this morning?
Harp.
Sirrah, what strangers do you lodge, there is a robbery done this morning, and we are to search
for all suspected persons.
Aleman.
Gods bores, I am sorry for it, in faith
sir I lodge nobody but a good honest merry priest,
they call him sir Iohn a Wrootham, and a handsome woman that is his niece,
that he says he has some suit in law for,
and as they go up and down to London, sometimes they lie at my house.
Harp.
What, is he here in thy house now?
Con.
She is sir, I promise you sir he is a quiet man, and because he will
not trouble too many rooms, he makes the woman lie every
night at his beds feet.
Harp.
Bring her forth Constable, bring her forth,
let us see her, let us see her.
Con.
Dorothy, you must come down to M. Constable.
Dol.
Anon forsooth.
she enters.
Harp.
Welcome sweet lass, welcome.
Dol.
I thank you good M. serving-man, and master Constable also.
Harp.
A plump girl by the mass, a plump girl,
ha Dol ha, wilt thou forsake the priest, and go with me.
Con.
A well said M. Harpoole, you are a merry old man in faith,
in faith you will never be old:
now by the macke, a pretty wench indeed.
Harp.
Ye old mad merry Constable, art thou advised of that ha,
well said Dol, fill some ale here.
aside
Dol
O if I wist this old priest would not stick to me,
by Ioue I would ingle this old serving-man.
Harp.
O you old mad colt, in faith I will feak you:
fill all the pots in the house there.
Con.
O well said M. Harpoole, you are heart of oak
when all is done.
Harp.
Ha Dol, thou hast a sweet pair of lips
by the mass.
Doll
Truly you are a most sweet old man, as ever
I saw, by my troth, you have a face,
able to make any woman in love with you.
Harp.
Fill sweet Doll, I will drink to thee.
Doll
I pledge you sir, and thank you therefore, and I pray you let it come.
imbracing her
Harp.
Doll, canst thou love me? a mad merry lass,
would to God I had never seen thee.
Doll
I warrant you you will not out of my thoughts this twelve-month,
truly you are as full of favour,
as a man may be. Ah these sweet grey locks,
by my troth, they are most lovely.
Constable
Gods boars master Harpoole, I will have
one buss too.
Harp.
No licking for you Constable, hand off, hand off.
Constable
Byrlady I love kissing as well as you.
Doll
O you are an odd boy,
you have a wanton eye of your own:
ah you sweet sugar lipped wanton,
you will win as many women's hearts as come in your company.
Enter Priest.
Wroth.
Doll, come hither.
Harp.
Priest, she shall not.
Doll
I will come anon, sweet love.
Wroth.
Hand off, old fornicator.
Harp.
Vicar, I will sit here in spite of thee,
is this fit stuff
for a priest to carry up and down with him?
Wrotham
Ah sirrah, dost thou not know, that a good fellow parson may
have a chapel of ease, where his parish Church is far off?
Harp.
You whoreson stoned Vicar.
Wroth.
You old stale ruffian, you lion of Cotswold.
Harp.
'swounds Vicar, I will geld you.
flies vpon him.
Constable
Keep the Kings peace.
Doll
Murder, murder, murder.
Ale man
Hold, as you are men, hold, for Gods sake be quiet:
put up your weapons, you draw not in my house.
Harp.
You whoreson bawdy priest.
Wroth.
You old mutton monger.
Constable
Hold sir Iohn, hold.
Doll to the Priest
I pray thee sweet heart be quiet, I was but sitting to drink a pot of ale with him,
even as kind a man as ever I met with.
Harp.
Thou art a thief I warrant thee.
Wroth.
Then I am but as thou hast been in thy days,
let us not be ashamed of our trade,
the King has been a thief himself.
Doll
Come, be quiet, hast thou sped?
Wroth.
I have wench, here be crowns i'faith.
Doll
Come, let us be all friends then.
Constable
Well said mistress Dorothy i'faith.
Harp.
Thou art the madest priest that ever I met with.
Wroth.
Give me thy hand, thou art as good a fellow, I am a singer, a drinker, a bencher, a wencher,
I can say a mass, and kiss a lass:
faith I have a parsonage, and because I would not be at too much charges,
this wench serves me for a sexton.
Harp.
Well said mad priest, we will in and be friends,
exeunt.
Enter sir Roger Acton, master Bourne, master Beuerley, and William Murley the brewer of Dunstable.
Acton
Now master Murley, I am well assured
You know our arrant, and do like the cause,
Being a man affected as we are?
Mu.
Mary God dild ye dainty my dear, no master,
good Sir Roger Acton Knight, master Bourne, and master Beuerley esquires,
gentlemen, and justices of the peace, no master I,
but plain William Murly the brewer of Dunstable
your honest neighbour, and your friend, if ye be men of my profession.
Beuerley
Professed friends to Wickliffe, foes to Rome.
Murl.
Hold by me lad, lean upon that
staff good master Beuerley,
all of a house, say your mind, say your mind.
Acton
You know our faction now is grown so great,
Throughout the realm; that it begins to smoke
Into the Clergies eyes, and the Kings ears,
High time it is that we were drawn to head,
Our general and officers appointed.
And wars ye wot will ask great store of coin.
Able to strength our action with your purse,
You are elected for a colonel
Over a regiment of fifteen bands.
Murley
Fue paltry paltry, in and out, to and fro,
be it more or less, upon occasion,
Lord have mercy upon us,
what a world is this? Sir Roger Acton, I am but a Dunstable man,
a plain brewer, ye know: will lusty Cavaliering
captains gentlemen come at my calling,
go at my bidding? Dainty my dear,
they will do a dog of wax,
a horse of cheese, a prick and a pudding,
no, no, ye must appoint some lord or knight at least to that place.
Bourne
Why master Murley, you shall be a Knight:
Were you not in election to be shrieve?
Have ye not past all offices but that?
Have ye not wealth to make your wife a lady?
I warrant you, my lord, our General
Bestows that honour on you at first sight.
Murley
Mary God dild ye dainty my dear:
But tell me, who shall be our General?
Wheres the lord Cobham, sir Iohn Old-castle,
That noble alms-giver, housekeeper, virtuous,
Religious gentleman? Come to me there boys,
Come to me there.
Acton
Why who but he shall be our General?
Murley
And shall he knight me, and make me colonel?
Acton
My word for that, sir William Murley knight.
Murley
Fellow sir Roger Acton knight, all fellows, I mean
in arms, how strong are we? how many partners?
our enemies beside the King are mighty, be it more or less
upon occasion, reckon our force.
Acton
There are of us, our friends, and followers,
Three thousand and three hundred at the least,
Of northern lads four thousand, beside horse,
From Kent there comes with sir Iohn Old-castle
Seven thousand, then from London issue out,
Of masters, servants, strangers, prentices
Forty odd thousands into Ficket field,
Where we appoint our special rendezvous.
Mur
Fue, paltry, in and out to and fro, Lord have mercy, what a world is this,
wheres that Ficket field, sir Roger?
Acton
Behind saint Giles in the field near Holborne.
Murley
Newgate, up Holborne, Saint Giles in the field, and to Tiborne, an old saw:
for the day, for the day?
Acton
On friday next the fourteenth day of January.
Murley
Tilly-Vally, trust me never if I have any liking of that day:
fue paltry paltry, friday quoth he,
dismal day, Childermas day this year was friday.
Beuerley
Nay master Murley, if you observe such days,
We make some question of your constancy,
All days are like to men resolved in right.
Murley
Say Amen, and say no more, but say, and hold master Beuerley, friday next,
and Ficket field, and William Murley, and his merry men shall be all one,
I have half a score jades that
draw my beer carts, and every jade
shall bear a knave,
and every knave shall wear a iacke,
and every iacke shall have a scull,
and every scull shall show a spear,
and every spear shall kill a foe
at Ficket field, at Ficket field, Iohn and Tom, and Dicke and Hodge,
and Rafe and Robin, William and George, and all my knaves shall fight like men, at Ficket field on friday next.
Bourne
What sum of money mean you to disburse?
Murley
It may be modestly, decently, soberly, and handsomely I may bring five hundredth pound.
Acton
Five hundredth man? five thousand is not enough,
A hundredth thousand will not pay our men
Two months together, either come prepared
Like a brave Knight, and martial Colonel,
In glittering gold, and gallant furniture,
Bringing in coin, a cart load at the least,
And all your followers mounted on good horse,
Or never come disgraceful to us all.
Beuerley
Perchance you may be chosen Treasurer,
Ten thousand pounds the least that you can bring.
Murley
Paltry paltry, in and out, to and fro, upon occasion I have ten thousand pound to spend, and
then too. And rather than the Bishop shall have his will of me for my conscience,
it shall out all. Flame and flax, flame and flax,
it was got with water and malt, and it shall
fly with fire and gun powder.
Sir Roger, a cart load of money till the axetree
crack, myself
and my men in Ficket field on friday next:
remember my Knighthood, and my place: there is
my hand I will be there.
Exit.
Acton
See what Ambition may persuade men to,
In hope of honour he will spend himself.
Bourne
I never thought a Brewer half so rich.
Beuerley
Was never bankrupt Brewer yet but one,
With using too much malt, too little water.
Acton
That is no fault in Brewers nowadays:
Come, away about our business.
exeunt.
Enter K. Harry, Suffolke, Butler, and Old-castle kneeling to the King.
Harry
It is not enough Lord Cobham to submit.
You must forsake your gross opinion,
The Bishops find themselves much injured,
And though for some good service you have done,
We for our part are pleased to pardon you,
Yet they will not so soon be satisfied,
Cobham
My gracious Lord unto your Majesty,
Next unto my God, I owe my life,
And what is mine, either by natures gift,
Or fortunes bounty, all is at your service,
But for obedience to the Pope of Rome,
I owe him none, nor shall his shaveling priests
That are in England, alter my belief.
If out of holy Scripture they can prove,
That I am in an error, I will yield,
And gladly take instruction at their hands,
But otherwise, I do beseech your grace,
My conscience may not be encroached upon.
Har.
We would be loath to press our subjects bodies,
Much less their souls, the dear redeemed part,
Of him that is the ruler of us all,
Yet let me counsel ye, that might command,
Do not presume to tempt them with ill words,
Nor suffer any meetings to be had
Within your house, but to the uttermost,
Disperse the flocks of this new gathering sect.
Cobham
My liege, if any breathe, that dares come forth,
And say, my life in any of these points
Deserves the attaindor of ignoble thoughts
Here stand I, craving no remorse at all,
But even the utmost rigour may be shown.
Har.
Let it suffice we know your loyalty,
What have you there?
Cob.
A deed of clemency,
Your Highness pardon for Lord Powesse life,
Which I did beg, and you my noble Lord,
Of gracious favour did vouchsafe to grant.
Har.
But yet it is not signed with our hand.
Cob.
Not yet my Liege.
one ready with pen and incke.
Har.
The fact, you say, was done,
Not of prepensed malice, but by chance.
Cob.
Upon mine honour so, no otherwise.
Har.
There is his pardon, bid him make amends,
writes.
And cleanse his soul to God for his offence,
What we remit, is but the bodies scourge,
Enter Bishop.
How now Lord Bishop?
Bishop
Justice dread Sovereign.
As thou art King, so grant I may have justice.
Har.
What means this exclamation, let us know?
Bish.
Ah my good Lord, the state is abused,
And our decrees most shamefully profaned.
Har.
How, or by whom?
Bish.
Even by this heretic,
This Jew, this Traitor to your majesty.
Cob.
Prelate, thou liest, even in thy greasy maw,
Or whosoever twits me with the name,
Of either traitor, or of heretic.
Har.
Forbear I say, and Bishop, show the cause
From whence this late abuse hath been derived,
Bish.
Thus mighty King, by general consent,
A messenger was sent to cite this Lord,
To make appearance in the consistory,
And coming to his house, a ruffian slave,
One of his daily followers, met the man,
Who knowing him to be a paritor,
Assaults him first, and after in contempt
Of us, and our proceedings, makes him eat
The written process, parchment, seal and all:
Whereby his master neither was brought forth,
Nor we but scorned, for our authority.
Har.
When was this done?
Bish.
At six a clock this morning.
Har.
And when came you to court?
Cob.
Last night my Lord.
Har.
By this it seems, he is not guilty of it,
And you have done him wrong to accuse him so.
Bish.
But it was done my lord by his appointment,
Or else his man durst never have been so bold.
Har.
Or else you durst be bold, to interrupt,
And fill our ears with frivolous complaints,
Is this the duty you do bear to us?
Was it not sufficient we did pass our word
To send for him, but you misdoubting it,
Or which is worse, intending to forestall
Our regal power, must likewise summon him?
This savours of Ambition, not of zeal,
And rather proves, you malice his estate,
Than any way that he offends the law.
Go to, we like it not, and he your officer,
That was employed so much amiss herein,
Had his desert for being insolent:
Enter Huntington
So Cobham when you please you may depart.
Cob.
I humbly bid farewell unto my liege.
Exit
Har.
Farewell, what is the news by Huntington?
Hunt.
Sir Roger Acton, and a crew, my Lord,
Of bold seditious rebels, are in Arms,
Intending reformation of Religion.
And with their Army they intend to pitch,
In Ficket field, unless they be repulsed.
Har.
So near our presence? dare they be so bold?
And will proud war, and eager thirst of blood,
Whom we had thought to entertain far off,
Press forth upon us in our
native bounds?
Must we be forced to handsel our sharp blades
In England here, which we prepared for France?
Well, in Gods name be it, what is their number? say,
Or who is the chief commander of this rout?
Hunt.
Their number is not known, as yet (my Lord)
But it is reported Sir Iohn Old-castle
Is the chief man, on whom they do depend.
Har.
How, the Lord Cobham?
Hunt.
Yes my gracious Lord.
Bish.
I could have told your majesty as much
Before he went, but that I saw your Grace
Was too much blinded by his flattery.
Suf.
Send post my Lord to fetch him back again.
But.
Traitor unto his country, how he smoothed,
And seemed as innocent as Truth itself?
Har.
I cannot think it yet, he would be false,
But if he be, no matter let him go,
We will meet both him and them unto their woe.
Bish.
This falls out well, and at the last I hope
Exeunt
To see this heretic die in a rope.
Enter Earle of Cambridge, Lord Scroope, Gray, and Chartres the French factor.
Scroop.
Once more my Lord of Cambridge make rehearsal,
How you do stand entitled to the Crown,
The deeper shall we print it in our minds,
And every man the better be resolved,
When he perceives his quarrel to be just.
Cam.
Then thus Lord Scroope, sir Thomas Gray, and you
Monsieur de Chartres, agent for the French,
This Lionell Duke of Clarence, as I said,
Third son of Edward (Englands King) the third
Had issue Phillip his sole daughter and heir,
Which Phillip afterward was given in marriage,
To Edmund Mortimer the Earl of March,
And by him had a son called Roger Mortimer,
Which Roger likewise had of his descent,
Edmund, Roger, Anne, and Elianor,
Two daughters and two sons, but those three
Died without issue, Anne that did survive,
And now was left her fathers only heir,
My fortune was to marry, being too
By my grandfather of King Edwardes line,
So of his surname, I am called you know,
Richard Plantagenet, my father was,
Edward the Duke of Yorke, and son and heir
To Edmund Langley, Edward the third's first son.
Scroop
So that it seems your claim comes by your wife,
As lawful heir to Roger Mortimer,
The son of Edmund, which did marry Phillip
Daughter and heir to Lyonell Duke of Clarence.
Cam.
True, for this Harry, and his father both
Harry the first, as plainly doth appear,
Are false intruders, and usurp the Crown.
For when young Richard was at Pomfret slain,
In him the title of prince Edward died,
That was the eldest of king Edwards sons:
William of Hatfield, and their second brother,
Death in his nonage had before bereft:
So that my wife derived from Lionell,
Third son unto king Edward, ought proceed,
And take possession of the Diadem
Before this Harry, or his father king,
Who fetched their title but from Lancaster,
Forth of that royal line. And being thus,
What reason is it but she should have her right?
Scroope
I am resolved our enterprise is just.
Gray
Harry shall die, or else resign his crown.
Chart.
Perform but that, and Charles the king of France
Shall aid you lords, not only with his men,
But send you money to maintain your wars,
Five hundred thousand crowns he bade me proffer,
If you can stop but Harries voyage for France.
Scrope
We never had a fitter time than now
The realm in such division as it is.
Camb.
Besides, you must persuade ye there is due,
Vengeance for Richards murder, which although
It be defend, yet will it fall at last,
And now as likely as another time.
Sin hath had many years to ripen in,
And now the harvest cannot be far off,
Wherein the weeds of usurpation,
Are to be cropped, and cast into the fire.
Scroope
No more earl Cambridge, here I plight my faith,
To set up thee, and thy renowned wife.
Gray
Gray will perform the same, as he is knight.
Chart.
And to assist ye, as I said before,
Charters doth gage the honour of his king.
Scroope
We lack but now Lord Cobhams fellowship,
And then our plot were absolute indeed.
Camb.
Doubt not of him, my lord, his life is pursued
By the incensed Clergy, and of late,
Brought in displeasure with the king, assures
He may be quickly won unto our faction.
Who hath the articles were drawn at large
Of our whole purpose?
Gray
That have I my Lord.
Camb.
We should not now be far off from his house,
Our serious conference hath beguiled the way,
See where his castle stands, give me the writing.
When we are come unto the speech of him,
Because we will not stand to make recount,
Of that which hath been said, here he shall read
enter Cob.
Our minds at large, and what we crave of him.
Scroope
A ready way: here comes the man himself
Booted and spurred, it seems he hath been riding.
Camb.
Well met lord Cobham.
Cobh.
My lord of Cambridge?
Your honour is most welcome into Kent,
And all the rest of this fair company.
I am new come from London, gentle Lords:
But will ye not take Cowling for your host,
And see what entertainment it affords?
Camb.
We were intended to have been your guests:
But now this lucky meeting shall suffice
To end our business, and defer that kindness.
Cobh.
Business my lord? what business should you have
But to be merry? we have no delicates,
But this I will promise you, a piece of venison,
A cup of wine, and so forth: hunters fare:
And if you please, we will strike the stag ourselves
Shall fill our dishes with his well-fed flesh.
Scroope
That is indeed the thing we all desire.
Cobh.
My lords, and you shall have your choice with me.
Camb.
Nay but the stag which we desire to strike,
Lives not in Cowling: if you will consent,
And go with us, we will bring you to a forest,
Where runs a lusty herd: amongst the which
There is a stag superior to the rest,
A stately beast, that when his fellows run,
He leads the race, and beats the sullen earth,
As though he scorned it with his trampling hooves,
Aloft he bears his head, and with his breast,
Like a huge bulwark counter-checks the wind:
And when he standeth still, he stretcheth forth
His proud ambitious neck, as if he meant
To wound the firmament with forked horns.
Cobh.
It is pity such a goodly beast should die.
Camb.
Not so, sir Iohn, for he is tyrannous,
And gores the other dear, and will not keep
Within the limits are appointed him.
Of late he is broke into a several,
Which doth belong to me, and there he spoils
Both corn and pasture, two of his wild race
Alike for stealth, and covetous encroaching,
Already are removed, if he were dead,
I should not only be secure from hurt,
But with his body make a royal feast.
Scroope
How say you then, will you first hunt with us?
Cobh.
Faith Lords, I like the pastime, wheres the place?
Camb.
Peruse this writing, it will show you all,
And what occasion we have for the sport.
he reades
Cobh.
Call ye this hunting, my lords? Is this the stag
You fain would chase, Harry our dread king?
So we may make a banquet for the devil,
And in the fleede of wholesome meat, prepare
A dish of poison to confound ourselves.
Camb.
Why so lord Cobham? see you not our claim?
And how imperiously he holds the crown?
Scroope
Besides, you know yourself is in disgrace,
Held as a recreant, and pursued to death.
This will defend you from your enemies,
And stablish your religion through the land.
Cobh.
Notorious treason! yet I will conceal
aside
My secret thoughts, to sound the depth of it.
My lord of Cambridge, I do see your claim,
And what good may redound unto the land,
By prosecuting of this enterprise.
But where are men? where is power and furniture
To order such an action? we are weak,
Harry, you know is a mighty potentate.
Camb.
Tut, we are strong enough, you are beloved,
And many will be glad to follow you,
We are the light, and some will follow us:
Besides, there is hope from France: here is an ambassador
That promiseth both men and money too.
The commons likewise (as we hear) pretend
A sudden tumult, we will join with them.
Cobh.
Some likelihood, I must confess, to speed:
But how shall I believe this is plain truth?
You are (my lords) such men as live in Court,
And highly have been favoured of the king,
Especially lord Scroope, whom oftentimes
He maketh choice of for his bedfellow.
And you lord Gray are of his privy council:
Is not this a train to entrap my life?
Camb.
Then perish may my soul: what think you so?
Scroope
We will swear to you.
Gray
Or take the sacrament.
Cobh.
Nay you are noble men, and I imagine,
As you are honourable by birth and blood,
So you will be in heart, in thought, in word.
I crave no other testimony but this.
That you would all subscribe, and set your hands
Unto this writing which you gave to me.
Camb.
With all our hearts: who hath any pen and ink?
Scroope
My pocket should have one: yea, hear it is.
Camb.
Give it me lord Scroope: there is my name.
Scroope
And there is my name.
Gray
And mine.
Cobh.
Sir, let me crave,
That you would likewise write your name with theirs,
For confirmation of your masters word,
The king of France.
Char.
That will I noble Lord.
Cobh.
So now this action is well knit together,
And I am for you: where is our meeting, lords?
Camb.
Here if you please, the tenth of July next.
Cobh.
In Kent? agreed: now let us in to supper,
I hope your honours will not away tonight.
Camb.
Yes presently, for I have far to ride,
About soliciting of other friends.
Scroope
And we would not be absent from the court,
Lest thereby grow suspicion in the king.
Cobh.
Yet taste a cup of wine before ye go.
Camb.
Not now my lord, we thank you: so farewell.
Cob.
Farewell my noble lords: my noble lords?
My noble villains, base conspirators,
How can they look his Highness in the face,
Whom they so closely study to betray?
But I will not sleep until I make it known.
This head shall not be burdened with such thoughts,
Nor in this heart will I conceal a deed
Of such impiety against my king.
Madam, how now?
Enter Harpoole and the rest.
Lady cobh.
You are welcome home, my Lord,
Why seem ye so disquiet in your looks?
What hath befallen you that disquiets your mind?
Lady Po.
Bad news I am afraid touching my husband.
Cobh.
Madam, not so: there is your husbands pardon,
Long may ye live, each joy unto the other.
Powesse
So great a kindness as I know not how to make reply, my sense is quite confounded.
Cobh.
Let that alone: and madam stay me not,
For I must back unto the court again
With all the speed I can: Harpoole, my horse.
Lady Cob.
So soon my Lord? what will you ride all night?
Cobham
All night or day it must be so, sweet wife,
Urge me not why or what my business is,
But get you in: Lord Powesse, bear with me,
And madam, think your welcome never the worse:
My house is at your use. Harpoole, away.
Harp.
Shall I attend your lordship to the court?
Cobh.
Yea sir, your gelding, mount you presently
exe.
Lady Cobh.
I prithee Harpoole, look unto thy Lord,
I do not like this sudden posting back.
Powe
Some earnest business is a foot belike,
What ever it be, pray God be his good guide.
Lady Po.
Amen that hath so highly us bested.
Lady Co.
Come madam, and my lord, we will hope the best,
You shall not into Wales till he return.
Powesse
Though great occasion be we should depart, yet madam will
we stay to be resolved, of this unlooked for doubtful accident.
Exeunt.
Enter Murley and his men, prepared in some filthy order for warre.
Murly.
Come my hearts of flint, modestly, decently, soberly, and handsomely,
no man afore his Leader, follow your master, your Captain,
your Knight that shall be, for the honour of Mealmen,
Millers, and Malt-men dun is the
mouse, Dicke and Tom for the credit of Dunstable, ding down the
enemy tomorrow, ye shall not come into the field like beggars,
where be Leonard and Laurence my two loaders, Lord have mercy upon us,
what a world is this? I would give a couple of shillings for a dozen of good feathers for ye,
and forty pence for as many scarfs to set ye out withal,
frost and snow, a man has no heart to fight till he be brave.
Dicke
Master I hope we be no babes, for our manhood, our bucklers, and our town
footballs can bear witness:
and this lite apparel we have shall off, and
we will fight naked afore we run away.
Tom.
Nay, I am of Laurence mind for that, for he means
to leave his life behind him, he and Leonard your two loaders are making their wills because they
have wives,
now we Bachelors bid our friends scramble for our goods if we die:
but master, pray ye let me ride upon Cutte.
Murly
Meal and salt, wheat and malt, fire and tow, frost and snow, why Tom thou shalt: let me see,
here are you, William and George are with my cart, and Robin and Hodge
holding my own two horses, proper men, handsome men, tall men, true men.
Dicke
But master, master, methinks you are a mad man, to hazard your own person and a cart load of money too.
Tom.
Yea, and master there is a worse matter in it,
if it be as I heard say, we go to fight against
all the learned Bishops, that should give us their blessing,
and if they curse us, we shall speed never the better.
Dicke
Nay by our lady, some say the King takes their part, and master, dare you fight against the King?
Murly
Fie paltry, paltry in and out, to and fro upon occasion,
if the King be so unwise to come there, we will fight with him too.
Tom.
What if we should kill the King?
Mur.
Then we will make another.
Dicke
Is that all, do ye not speak treason?
Mur.
If we do, who dare trip us? we come to fight for our conscience,
and for honour, little know you
what is in my bosom, look here mad
knaves, a pair of guilt spurs.
Tom.
A pair of golden spurs? why do you not put them on
your heels? your bosom is no place for spurs.
Mur.
Be it more or less upon occasion,
Lord have mercy us, Tom thou art a fool,
and thou speakest treason to knighthood, dare any wear golden or silver spurs
till he be a knight? no, I shall be knighted tomorrow, and then they shall on: sirs, was it
ever read in the church book of Dunstable,
that ever malt man was made knight?
Tom.
No but you are more, you are meal-man, malt-man, miller, corn-master and all.
Dicke
Yea, and half a brewer too, and the devil and all for wealth,
you bring more money with you, than all the rest.
Mur.
The more is my honour, I shall be a knight
tomorrow, let me spose my men,
Tom upon cutte, Dicke upon hobbe,
Hodge upon Ball, Raph upon Sorell,
and Robin upon the forehorse.
Enter Acton, Bourne, and Beuerley.
Tom.
Stand, who comes there?
Act.
All friends, good fellow.
Murl.
Friends and fellows indeed sir Roger.
Act.
Why thus you show yourself a Gentleman,
To keep your day, and come so well prepared,
Your cart stands yonder, guarded by your men,
Who tell me it is laden well with come,
What sum is there?
Mur.
Ten thousand pound sir Roger, and modestly, decently, soberly,
and handsomely, see what I have here against I be knighted.
Act.
Gilt spurs? it is well.
Mur.
But where is our army sir?
Act.
Dispersed in sundry villages about,
Some here with us in Hygate, some at Finchley,
Totnam, Enfield, Edmunton, Newington,
Islington, Hogsdon, Pancredge, Kenzington,
Some nearer Thames, Ratcliffe, Blackwall and Bow,
But our chief strength must be the Londoners,
Which ere the Sun tomorrow shine,
Will be near fifty thousand in the field.
Mur.
Mary God dild ye dainty my dear, but upon occasion sir Roger Acton,
doth not the King know of it, and gather his power against us.
Act.
No, he is secure at Eltham.
Mur.
What do the Clergy?
Act.
Fear extremely, yet prepare no force.
Mur.
In and out, to and fro, Bully my boykin, we shall
carry the world afore us, I vow by my worship, when I am knighted,
we will take the King napping, if he stand on their part.
Act.
This night we few in Higate will repose,
With the first cock we will rise and arm ourselves,
To be in Ficket field by break of day,
And there expect our General.
Mur.
Sir Iohn Old-castle, what if he come not?
Bourne
Yet our action stands,
Sir Roger Acton may supply his place.
Mur.
True M. Bourne but who shall make me knight?
Beuer.
He that hath power to be our General.
Act.
Talk not of trifles, come let us away,
Our friends of London long till it be day.
exeunt.
Enter sir Iohn of Wrotham and Doll.
Doll.
By my troth, thou art as jealous a man as lives.
Priest
Canst thou blame me Doll, thou art my lands, my goods, my jewels, my wealth, my purse,
none walks within forty miles of London, but a plies thee as truly, as the parish
does the poor man's box.
Doll
I am as true to thee, as the stone is in the wall, and thou knowest well enough sir Iohn,
I was in as good doing, when I came to thee, as any wench need to be: and therefore thou hast tried me,
that thou hast: by Gods body, I will not be kept as I
have been, that I will not.
Priest
Doll, if this blade hold, there is not a peddler
walks with a pack, but thou shalt as boldly
choose of his wares, as with thy ready money in
a Merchants shop, we will have as good
silver as the King coins any.
Doll
What is all the gold spent you took the last day from the Courtier?
Priest
It is gone Doll, it is flown, merely come, merely gone,
he comes a horse back that must pay for all,
we will have as good meat,
as money can get, and as good gowns, as can be bought for gold,
be merry wench, the malt-man comes on monday.
Doll
You might have left me at Cobham, until
you had been better provided for.
Priest.
No sweet Dol, no, I do not like that, yond old ruffian is not for the priest,
I do not like a new clerk should come in the old belfry.
Doll
Ah thou art a mad priest in faith.
Priest
Come Doll, I will see thee safe at some alehouse here at Cray,
and the next sheep that comes shall leave his fleece.
exeunt.
Enter the King, Suffolke and Butler.
King in great haste.
My lord of Suffolk, post away for life,
And let our forces of such horse and foot,
As can be gathered up by any means,
Make speedy rendevous in Tuttle fields,
It must be done this evening my Lord,
This night the rebels mean to draw to head
Near Islington, which if your speed prevent not,
If once they should unite their several forces,
Their power is almost thought invincible,
Away my Lord I will be with you soon.
Suf.
I go my Sovereign with all happy speed.
exit
King
Make haste my lord of Suffolke as you love us,
Butler, post you to London with all speed.
Command the Mayor, and Sherrifs,
on their allegiance,
The city gates be presently shut up,
And guarded with a strong sufficient watch,
And not a man be suffered to pass,
Without a special warrant from ourself.
Command the Postern by the Tower be kept,
And proclamation on the pain of death,
That not a citizen stir from his doors,
Except such as the Mayor and Sherrifs shall choose,
For their own guard, and safety of their persons,
Butler away, have care unto my charge.
But.
I go my Sovereign.
King
Butler.
But.
My Lord.
King
Go down by Greenewich, and command a boat,
At the Friars bridge attend my coming down.
But.
I will my Lord.
exit
King
It is time I think to look unto rebellion,
When Acton doth expect unto his aid,
No less than fifty thousand Londoners,
Well, I will to Westminster in this disguise,
To hear what news is stirring in these brawls.
Enter sir Iohn.
Sir Iohn
Stand true-man says a thief?
King
Stand thief, says a true man, how if a thief?
Sir Iohn
Stand thief too.
King
Then thief or true-man I see I must stand, I see how soever the world wags,
the trade of thieving yet will never down, what art thou?
sir Iohn
A good fellow.
King
So am I too, I see thou dost know me.
sir Iohn.
If thou be a good fellow, play the good fellows part, deliver
thy purse without more ado.
King
I have no money.
sir Iohn
I must make you find some before we part, if you have no money
you shall have ware,
as many sound dry blows as your skin can carry.
King
Is that the plain truth?
sir Iohn
Sirrah no more ado, come, come, give
me the money you have, dispatch, I cannot stand all day.
King
Well, if thou wilt needs have it, there it is:
just the proverb, one thief robs another,
where the devil are all my old thieves, that were wont to
keep this walk? Falstaffe the villain is so fat,
he cannot get on his horse, but methinks Poines and Peto should be stirring hereabouts.
sir Iohn
How much is there on it of thy word?
King
A hundred pound in Angels, on my word,
The time has been I would have done as much
For thee, if thou hadst past this way, as I have now.
sir. Iohn
Sirrah, what art thou, thou seemst a gentleman?
King
I am no less, yet a poor one now, for thou hast all my money.
sir Iohn
From whence camest thou?
King
From the court at Eltham.
sir Iohn
Art thou one of the Kings servants?
King
Yes that I am and one of his chamber.
sir Iohn
I am glad thou art no worse, thou mayst the better spare thy money, and thinkst thou thou mightst
get a poor thief his pardon if he should have need.
King.
Yes that I can.
sir Iohn
Wilt thou do so much for me, when I shall have occasion?
King
Yes faith will I, so it be for no murther.
sir Iohn
Nay, I am a pitiful thief, all the hurt I do a man, I take but his purse,
I will kill no man.
King
Then of my word I will do it.
sir Iohn
Give me thy hand of the same.
King
There it is.
sir Iohn
Methinks the King should be good to thieves because he has
been a thief himself,
though I think now he be turned true-man.
King
Faith I have heard indeed he has had an ill name that way
in his youth, but how canst thou tell he has been a thief?
sir Iohn
How? because he once robbed me before I fell to the trade myself,
when that foul villainous guts,
that led him to all that roguery, was in his company there, that Falstaffe.
aside.
King
Well if he did rob thee then, thou art but even with him now I will be sworn:
thou knowest not the king now, I think, if thou sawest him?
sir Iohn
Not I in faith.
aside.
King
So it should seem.
sir Iohn
Well, if old King Henry had lived, this King that is now,
had made thieving the best trade in England.
King
Why so?
sir Iohn
Because he was the chief warden of our company, it is
pity that ever he
should have been a King, he was so brave
a thief, but sirrah, wilt remember my pardon if need be?
King
Yes faith will I.
sir Iohn
Wilt thou? well then because thou shalt go safe, for thou mayst hap (being so
early) be met with again,
before thou come to Southwarke, if any man when he should bid thee good morrow,
bid thee stand, say thou but sir Iohn, and he will let thee pass.
King
Is that the word? well then let me alone.
sir Iohn
Nay sirrah, because I think indeed
I shall have some occasion to use thee, and as thou comest oft this way,
I may light on thee another time not knowing thee, here, I will break this Angel,
take thou half of it, this is a token betwixt thee and me.
King.
God have mercy, farewell.
exit
sir Iohn
O my fine golden slaves, here is for thee wench
in faith, now Dol, we will revel in our beaver,
this is a tithe pig of my vicarage,
God have mercy neighbour Shooters hill, you paid your tithe honestly.
Well I hear there is a company of rebels up against the King,
got together in Ficket field near Holborne, and as it is thought here in Kent,
the King will be there tonight in his own person,
well I will to the Kings camp, and it shall go hard,
but if there be any doings, I will make some good boot amongst them.
exit.
Enter King Henry, Suffolke, Huntington, and two with lights.
K. Hen.
My Lords of Suffolke and of Huntington,
Who scouts it now? or who stands Sentinels?
What men of worth? what Lords do walk the round?
Suff.
May it please your Highness.
K. Hen.
Peace, no more of that,
The King is asleep, wake not his majesty,
With terms nor titles, he is at rest in bed,
Kings do not use to watch themselves, they sleep,
And let rebellion and conspiracy,
Revel and havoc in the common wealth,
Is London looked unto?
Hunt.
It is my Lord,
Your noble Uncle Exceter is there,
Your brother Gloucester and my Lord of Warwicke,
Who with the mayor and the Aldermen,
Do guard the gates, and keep good rule within,
The Earl of Cambridge, and sir Thomas Gray,
Do walk the Round, Lord Scroope and Butler skout,
So though it please your majesty to jest,
Were you in bed, well might you take your rest,
K. Hen.
I thank ye Lords, but you do know of old,
That I have been a perfect night-walker,
London you say is safely looked unto,
Alas poor rebels, there your aid must fail,
And the Lord Cobham sir Iohn Old-castle,
He is quiet in Kent, Acton ye are deceived,
Reckon again, you count without your host,
Tomorrow you shall give account to us,
Till when my friends, this long cold winters night,
How can we spend? King Harry is a sleep,
And all his Lords, these garments tell us so,
All friends at football, fellows all in field,
Harry, and Dicke, and George, bring us a drum,
Give us square dice, we will
keep this court of guard,
For all good fellows companies that come.
Wheres that mad priest ye told me was in Arms,
To fight, as well as pray, if need required?
Suff.
He is in the Camp, and if he knew of this,
I undertake he would not be long hence.
Har.
Trip Dicke, Trip George.
they trippe.
Hunt.
I must have the dice,
What do we play at?
they play at dice.
Suff.
Passage if ye please.
Hunt.
Set round then, so, at all.
Har.
George, you are out.
Give me the dice, I pass for twenty pound,
Here is to our lucky passage into France.
Hunt.
Harry you pass indeed for you sweep all.
Suff.
A sign king Harry shall sweep all in France.
ent. sir Iohn
sir Iohn
Edge ye good fellows, take a fresh gamester in.
Har.
Master Parson? we play nothing but gold?
sir Iohn.
And fellow, I tell thee that the priest hath gold, gold? 'sblood
ye are but beggarly soldiers to me,
I think I have more gold than all you three.
Hunt.
It may be so, but we believe it not.
Har.
Set priest set, I pass for all that gold.
sir Iohn
Ye pass indeed.
Harry
Priest, hast thou any more?
sir Iohn
Zounds what a question is that?
I tell thee I have more than all you three,
At these ten Angels.
Harry.
I wonder how thou comest by all this gold,
How many benefices hast thou priest?
sir Iohn
in faith but one, dost wonder how I come by gold? I wonder rather
how poor soldiers should have gold,
for I will tell thee good fellow, we have
every day tithes, offerings, christenings,
weddings, burials:
and you poor snakes come seldom to a booty.
I will speak a proud word, I have but one parsonage,
Wrootham, it is better than the Bishopric of Rochester,
there is never a hill, heath,
nor down in all Kent, but it is in my parish, Barrham
down, Chobham down, Gads hill, Wrootham hill,
Black heath, Cocks heath, Birchen wood, all pay me
tithe, gold quoth he? ye pass not for that.
Suff.
Harry ye are out, now parson shake the dice.
sir Iohn.
Set, set I will cover ye at all:
A plague on it I am out,
the devil, and dice, and a wench, who will trust them?
Suff.
Sayst thou so priest? set fair, at all for once.
Har.
Out sir, pay all.
sir Iohn
'sblood pay me angel gold,
I will none of your cracked French crowns nor pistolets,
Pay me fair angel gold, as I pay you.
Har.
No cracked french crowns? I hope to
see more cracked french crowns ere long.
sir Iohn
Thou meanest of French men's crowns, when the King is in France.
Hunt.
Set round, at all.
sir Ihon
Pay all: this is some luck.
Har.
Give me the dice, it is I must shred the priest:
At all sir Iohn.
sir Iohn
The devil and all is yours: at that: 'sdeath, what casting is this?
Suff.
Well thrown Harry in faith.
Har.
I will cast better yet.
sir Iohn
Then I will be hanged. Sirrah,
hast thou not given thy soul to the devil for casting?
Har.
I pass for all.
sir Iohn
Thou passest all that ere I played withal:
Sirrah, dost thou not cog, nor foist, nor slur?
Har.
Set parson, set, the dice die in my hand:
When parson, when? what can ye find no more?
Already dry? was it you bragged of your store?
sir Iohn
All is gone but that.
Hunt.
What, half a broken angel?
sir Iohn
Why sir, it is gold.
Har.
Yea, and I will cover it.
sir Iohn
The devil do ye good on it, I am blind,
ye have blown me up.
Har.
Nay tarry priest, ye shall not leave us yet,
Do not these pieces fit each other well?
sir Ihon
What if they do?
Har.
Thereby begins a tale:
There was a thief, in face much like sir Iohn,
But it was not he, that thief
was all in green,
Met me last day on Black Heath, near the park,
With him a woman, I was all alone,
And weaponless, my boy had all my tools,
And was before providing me a boat:
Short tale to make, sir Iohn, the thief I mean,
Took a just hundredth pound in gold from me.
I stormed at it, and swore to be revenged
If ere we met, he like a lusty Thief,
Brake with his teeth this Angel just in two,
To be a token at our meeting next,
Provided, I should charge no Officer
To apprehend him, but at weapons point
Recover that, and what he had beside.
Well met sir Iohn, betake ye to your tools
By torch light, for master parson you are he
That had my gold.
sir Iohn
Zounds I will not in play, in fair square play
of the keeper of Eltham park, and that I will maintain
with this poor whinyard, be you two honest men to stand and look
upon his,
and let us alone, and take neither part.
Har.
Agreed, I charge ye do not budge a foot, Sir Iohn have at ye.
sir Iohn
Soldier ware your sconce.
Here as they are ready to strike, enter Butler and drawes his weapon and steps betwixt them.
But.
Hold villains hold, my Lords, what do ye mean,
To see a traitor draw against the King?
sir Iohn
The King! Gods will, I am in a proper pickle.
Har.
Butler what news? why dost thou trouble us?
But.
Please it your Highness, it is break of day,
And as I scouted near to Islington,
The gray eyed morning gave me glimmering,
Of armed men coming down Hygate hill,
Who by their course are coasting hitherward.
Har.
Let us withdraw, my Lords, prepare our troops,
To charge the rebels, if there be such cause,
For this lewd priest this devilish hypocrite,
That is a thief, a gamester, and what not,
Let him be hanged up for example sake.
sir Iohn
Not so my gracious sovereign, I confess
I am a frail man, flesh and blood as other are:
but set my imperfections aside, by this light ye have not a taller man,
nor a truer subject to the Crown and State, than sir Iohn of VVrootham is.
Har.
Will a true subject rob his King?
sir Iohn
Alas it was ignorance and want, my gracious liege.
Har.
It was want of grace: why, you should be as salt
To season others with good document,
Your lives as lamps to give the people light,
As shepherds, not as wolves to spoil the flock,
Go hang hm Butler.
But.
Didst thou not rob me?
sir Iohn
I must confess I saw some of your gold, but my dread Lord,
I am in no humour for death, therefore
save my life,
God will that sinners live; do not you cause me die, once in their lives
the best may go astray,
and if the world say true, yourself (my liege) have
been a thief.
Har.
I confess I have,
But I repent and have reclaimed myself.
sir Iohn
So will I do if you will give me time.
Har.
Wilt thou? my lords, will you be his sureties?
Hunt.
That when he robs again, he shall be hanged.
sir Iohn
I ask no more.
Har.
And we will grant thee that,
Live and repent, and prove an honest man,
Which when I hear, and safe return from France,
I will give thee living, till when take thy gold,
But spend it better than at cards or wine,
For better virtues fit that coat of thine.
sir Iohn
Viuat Rex et currat lex, my liege, if ye have cause of
battle, ye shall see sir Iohn of Wrootham
bestir himself in your quarrel.
exeunt.
After an alarum enter Harry, Suffolk, Huntington, sir Iohn, bringing forth
Acton, Beuerly, and Murley prisoners.
Har.
Bring in those traitors, whose aspiring minds,
Thought to have triumphed in our overthrow,
But now ye see, base villains, what success
Attends ill actions wrongfully attempted.
Sir Roger Acton, thou retainest the name
Of knight, and shouldest be more discreetly tempered,
Than join with peasants, gentry is divine,
But thou hast made it more than popular.
Act.
Pardon my Lord, my conscience urged me to it,
Har.
Thy conscience? then thy conscience is corrupt,
For in thy conscience thou art bound to us,
And in thy conscience thou shouldest love thy country,
Else what is the difference twixt a Christian,
And the uncivil manners of the Turke?
Beuer.
We meant no hurt unto your majesty,
But reformation of Religion.
Har.
Reform Religion? was it that ye sought?
I pray who gave you that authority?
Belike then we do hold the sceptre up,
And sit within the throne but for a cipher,
Time was, good subjects would make known their grief,
And pray amendment, not enforce the same,
Unless their King were tyrant, which I hope
You cannot justly say that Harry is,
What is that other?
Suff.
A malt-man my Lord,
And dwelling in Dunstable as he says.
Har.
Sirrah what made you leave your barley broth,
To come in armour thus against your King?
Mur.
Fie paltry, paltry to and fro, in and out upon occasion, what a world is this?
knighthood (my liege) it was knighthood brought me hither, they told me I had wealth enough to make my wife a lady.
Har.
And so you brought those horses which we saw,
Trapped all in costly furniture, and meant
To wear these spurs when you were knighted once.
Mur.
In and out upon occasion I did.
Har.
In and out upon occasion, therefore you shall be
hanged, and in the stead of wearing these
spurs upon your heels,
about your neck they shall bewray your folly to the world.
sir Iohn
In and out upon occasion, that goes hard.
Mur
Fic paltry paltry, to and fro, good my liege a pardon, I am sorry for my fault.
Har.
That comes too late: but tell me, went there none
Beside sir Roger Acton, upon whom
You did depend to be your governor?
Mar.
None none my Lord, but sir Iohn Old-castle.
Har.
Bears he part in this conspiracy.
enter Bishop
Act.
We looked my Lord that he would meet us here.
Har.
But did he promise you that he would come.
Act.
Such letters we received forth of Kent.
Bish.
Where is my Lord the King? health to your grace,
Examining my Lord some of these caitiff rebels,
It is a general voice amongst them all,
That they had never come unto this place,
But to have met their valiant general,
The good Lord Cobham as they title him,
Whereby, my Lord, your grace may now perceive,
His treason is apparent, which before
He sought to colour by his flattery.
Har.
Now by my royalty I would have sworn,
But for his conscience, which I bear withal,
There had not lived a more true hearted subject.
Bish.
It is but counterfeit, my gracious lords,
And therefore may it please your majesty,
To set your hand unto this precept here,
By which we will cause him forthwith to appear,
And answer this by order of the law.
Har.
Bishop, not only that, but take commission,
To search, attach, imprison, and condemn,
This most notorious traitor as you please.
Bish.
It shall be done, my Lord, without delay:
So now I hold Lord Cobham in my hand,
That which shall finish thy disdained life.
Har.
I think the iron age begins but now,
(Which learned poets have so often taught)
Wherein there is no credit to be given,
To either words, or looks, or solemn oaths,
For if there were, how often hath he sworn,
How gently tuned the music of his tongue,
And with what amiable face beheld he me,
When all, God knows, was but hypocrisy.
enter Cobham.
Cob.
Long life and prosperous reign unto my Lord.
Har.
Ah villain, canst thou wish prosperity,
Whose heart includeth nought but treachery?
I do arrest thee here myself, false knight,
Of treason capital against the state.
Cob.
Of treason mighty prince, your grace mistakes,
I hope it is but in the way of mirth.
Har.
Thy neck shall feel it is in earnest shortly,
Darest thou intrude into our presence, knowing
How heinously thou hast offended us?
But this is thy accustomed deceit,
Now thou perceivest thy purpose is in vain,
With some excuse or other thou wilt come,
To clear thyself of this rebellion.
Cob.
Rebellion good my Lord, I know of none.
Har.
If you deny it, here is evidence,
See you these men, you never counselled,
Nor offered them assistance in their wars
Cob.
Speak sirs, not one but all, I crave no favour,
Have ever I been conversant with you,
Or written letters to encourage you,
Or kindled but the least or smallest part,
Of this your late unnatural rebellion?
Speak for I dare the uttermost you can.
Mur,
In and out upon occasion I know you not.
Har.
No, didst not say that sir Iohn Old-castle,
Was one with whom you purposed to have met?
Mur.
True, I did say so, but in what respect?
Because I heard it was reported so.
Har.
Was there no other argument but that?
Act.
To clear my conscience ere I die my lord,
I must confess, we have no other ground
But only Rumour, to accuse this lord,
Which now I see was merely fabulous.
Har.
The more pernicious you to taint him then,
Whom you knew not was faulty yea or no.
Cobh.
Let this my Lord, which I present your grace
Speak for my loyalty, read these articles,
And then give sentence of my life or death.
Har.
Earl Cambridge, Scroope, and Gray corrupted
With bribes from Charles of France, either to win
My Crown from me, or secretly contrive
My death by treason? Is this possible?
Cobh.
There is the platform, and their hands, my lord,
Each severally subscribed to the same.
Har.
O never heard of base ingratitude!
Even those I hug within my bosom most,
Are readiest evermore to sting my heart.
Pardon me Cobham, I have done thee wrong,
Hereafter I will live to make amends.
Is then their time of meeting so near hand?
We will meet with them, but little for their ease,
If God permit: go take these rebels hence,
Let them have martial law: but as for thee,
Friend to thy king and country, still be free.
Exeunt.
Murl.
Be it more or less, what a world is this?
Would I had continued still of the order of knaves,
And never sought knighthood, since it costs
So dear: sir Roger, I may thank you for all.
Acton
Now it is too late to have it remedied,
I prithee Murley do not urge me with it.
Hunt.
Will you away, and make no more to do?
Murl.
Fie paltry paltry, to and fro, as occasion serves,
If you be so hasty take my place.
Hunt.
No good sir knight, you shall begin in your hand.
Murl.
I could be glad to give my betters place.
Exeunt.
Enter Bishop, lord Warden, Croamer the Shrieue, Lady Cob and attendants.
Bishop
I tell ye Lady, its not possible
But you should know where he conveys himself,
And you have hid him in some secret place.
Lady
My Lord, believe me, as I have a soul,
I know not where my lord my husband is.
Bishop
Go to, go to ye are an heretic,
And will be forced by torture to confess,
If fair means will not serve to make ye tell.
Lady
My husband is a noble gentleman,
And need not hide himself for any fact
That ever I heard of, therefore wrong him not.
Bishop
Your husband is a dangerous schismatic,
Traitor to God, the King, and common wealth,
And therefore master Croamer shrieve of Kent,
I charge you take her to your custody,
And seize the goods of Sir John Old-castle
To the Kings use, let her go in no more,
To fetch so much as her apparel out,
There is your warrant from his majesty.
L. War.
Good my Lord Bishop pacify your wrath
Against the Lady.
Bish.
Then let her confess
Where Old-castle her husband is concealed.
L. War.
I dare engage mine honour and my life,
Poor gentlewoman, she is ignorant,
And innocent of all his practises,
If any evil by him be practised.
Bish.
If my Lord Warden? nay then I charge you,
That all the cinque Ports whereof you are chief
Be laid forthwith, that he escape us not,
Show him his highness warrant M. Shrieve.
L. War.
I am sorry for the noble gentleman,
Enter Old-castle and Harp.
Bish.
Peace, he comes here, now do your office.
Old-castle
Harpoole what business have we here in hand?
What makes the Bishop and the Sheriff here,
I fear my coming home is dangerous,
I would I had not made such haste to Cobham.
Harp.
Be of good cheer my Lord, if they be foes we will
scramble shrewdly with them, if they be friends
they are welcome: one of them (my Lord, Warden) is your friend, but methinks
my lady weeps, I like not that.
Croo.
Sir Iohn Old-castle Lord Cobham, in the Kings majesties name, I arrest ye of high treason.
Oldca.
Treason M. Croomes?
Harp.
Treason M. Shrieve, 'sblood what treason?
Oldca.
Harpoole I charge thee stir not, but be quiet still,
Do ye arrest me M. Shrieve for treason?
Bish.
Yea of high treason, traitor, heretic.
Oldca.
Defiance in his face that calls me so,
I am as true a loyal gentleman
Unto his highness, as my proudest enemy,
The King shall witness my late faithful service,
For safety of his sacred majesty.
Bish.
What thou art, the kings hand shall testify,
Shout him Lord Warden.
Old.
Jesu defend me,
Is it possible your cunning could so temper
The princely disposition of his mind,
To sign the damage of a royal subject?
Well, the best is, it bears an anecdote,
Procured by my absence, and your malice,
But I, since that, have showed myself as true,
As any churchman that dare challenge me,
Let me be brought before his majesty,
If he acquit me not, then do your worst.
Bish.
We are not bound to do kind offices
For any traitor, schismatics, nor heretic,
The kings hand is our warrant for our work,
Who is departed on his way for France,
And at Southhampton doth repose this night.
Harp
O that it were the blessed will of God, that thou and I were within twenty mile of it, on Salisbury plain!
I would lose my head if ever thou broughtst thy head hither again.
aside.
Oldca.
My Lord Warden of the cinque Ports, and my Lord of Rochester, ye are
joint Commissioners, favour me so much,
On my expense to bring me to the king.
Bish.
What, to Southhampton?
Oldca.
Thither my good Lord,
And if he do not clear me of all guilt,
And all suspicion of conspiracy,
Pawning his princely warrant for my truth:
I ask no favour, but extremest torture.
Bring me, or send me to him, good my Lord,
Good my Lord Warden, M Shrieve, entreat.
Here the Lord Warden, and Cromer vncouer to the Bishop, and secretly whispers with him.
Come hither lady, nay, sweet wife forbear,
To heap one sorrow on another's neck,
It is grief enough falsely to be accused,
And not permitted to acquit myself,
Do not thou with thy kind respective tears,
Torment thy husbands heart that bleeds for thee,
But be of comfort, God hath help in store,
For those that put assured trust in him.
Dear wife, if they commit me to the Tower,
Come up to London to your sisters house:
That being near me, you may comfort me.
One solace find I settled in my soul,
That I am free from treasons very thought,
Only my conscience for the Gospels sake,
Is cause of all the troubles I sustain.
Lady.
O my dear Lord, what shall betide of us?
You to the Tower, and I turned out of doors,
Our substance ceased unto his highness use,
Even to the garments longing to our backs.
Harp.
Patience good madam, things at worst will mend,
And if they do not, yet our lives may end.
Bish.
Urge it no more, for if an Angel spake,
I swear by sweet saint Peters blessed keys,
First goes he to the Tower, then to the stake.
Crom.
But by your leave, this warrant doth not stretch
To imprison her.
Bishop
No, turn her out of doors,
L. Warden and Oldcastle whisper.
Even as she is, and lead him to the Tower,
With guard enough for fear of rescuing.
Lady
O God requite thee thou bloodthirsty man.
Oldca.
May it not be my Lord of Rochester?
Wherein have I incurred your hate so far,
That my appeal unto the King is denied?
Bish.
No hate of mine, but power of holy church,
Forbids all favour to false heretics.
Oldca.
Your private malice more than public power,
Strikes most at me, but with my life it ends.
Harp.
O that I had the Bishop in that fear,
aside
That once I had his Summoner by ourselves.
Crom.
My Lord yet grant one suit unto us all,
That this same ancient serving man may wait
Upon my lord his master in the Tower.
Bish.
This old iniquity, this heretic?
That in contempt of our church discipline,
Compelled my Summoner to devour
his process
Old Ruffian past-grace, up start schismatics,
Had not the King prayed us to pardon ye,
Ye had fried for it, ye grizzled heretic.
Harp.
'sblood my lord Bishop, ye do me wrong, I am neither
heretic nor puritan, but of the old church, I will
swear, drink ale, kiss a wench, go to
mass, eat fish all Lent,
and fast fridays with cakes and wine, fruit and spicery,
shrive me of my old sins afore Easter, and begin
new afore whitsuntide velvet cap.
Crom.
A merry mad conceited knave my lord.
Harp.
That knave was simply put upon the Bishop.
Bish.
Well, God forgive him and I pardon him.
Let him attend his master in the Tower,
For I in charity wish his soul no hurt.
Oldca
God bless my soul from such cold charity,
Bish.
Tooth Tower with him, and when my leisure serves,
I will examine him of Articles,
Look my lord Warden as you have in charge,
The Shrive perform his office.
L. Ward.
Yes my lord.
Enter the Sumner with bookes.
Bish.
What bringest thou there? what? books of heresy.
Som.
Yea my lord, here is not a latin book,
No not so much as our ladies Psalter,
Here is the Bible, the testament the Psalms in meter,
The sick man's salve, the treasure of gladness,
And all in English, not so much but the Almanac's English.
Bish.
Away with them, to the fire with them Clun,
Now fie upon these upstart heretics,
All English, burn them, burn them quickly Clun.
Harp.
But do not Summoner as you will
answer it, for I have there English books my lord,
that I will not part with for your Bishopric,
Beuis of Hampton, Owleglasse, the Friar and the Boy,
Ellen of Rumming, Robin hood, and other such godly stories which if ye burn, by this flesh
I will make ye drink their ashes in Saint Margets ale.
exeunt.
Enter the Bishop of Rochester with his men, in liuerie coates.
1. Ser.
Is it your honours pleasure we shall stay,
Or come back in the afternoon to fetch you.
Bish.
Now you have brought me hear into the Tower,
You may go back unto the Porters Lodge,
And send for drink or such things as you want,
Where if I have occasion to employ you,
I will send some officer to call you to me.
Into the city go not, I command you,
Perhaps I may have present need to use you.
2
We will attend your worship here without.
Bish.
Do so I pray you.
3
Come, we may have a quart of wine at the Rose at Barking, I warrant you,
and come back an hour before he be ready to go.
1
We must hie us then.
3
Let us away.
exeunt.
Bish.
Ho, M. Lieutenant.
Lieften.
Who calls there?
Bish.
A friend of yours.
Lieften.
My lord of Rochester, your honour is welcome.
Bish.
Sir here is my warrant from the Counsel,
For conference with sir Iohn Old-castle,
Upon some matter of great consequence.
Lieften.
Ho, sir Iohn.
Harp.
Who calls there?
Lieften.
Harpoole, tell Sir Iohn, that my lord of Rochester comes from the
counsel to confer with him.
Harp.
I will sir.
Lief.
I think you may as safe without suspicion,
As any man in England as I hear,
For it was you most laboured his commitment.
Bish.
I did sir, and nothing repent it I assure you.
Enter sir Iohn Old-castle.
M. Lieutenant I pray you give us leave,
I must confer here with sir Iohn a little.
Lief.
With all my heart my lord.
Harp aside.
My lord be ruled by me, take this occasion while it is offered,
and on my life your lordship shall escape.
Old-ca.
No more I say, peace lest he should suspect it.
Bish.
Sir Iohn I am come unto you from the lords of his highness
most honourable counsel,
to know if yet you do recant your errors, conforming you unto the holy church.
Old-ca.
My lord of Rochester on good advise,
I see my error, but yet understand me,
I mean not error in the faith I hold,
But error in submitting to your pleasure,
Therefore your lordship without more to do.
Must be a means to help me to escape.
Bish.
What means? thou heretic?
Darest thou but lift thy hand against my calling?
sir Iohn
No not to hurt yon for a thousand pound,
Harp.
Nothing but to borrow your upper garments a little; not a word more,
for if you do, you die: peace, for waking the children, there, put them on, dispatch, my lord,
the window that goes out into the leads, is sure enough, I told you that before,
there, make you ready, I will convey him after,
and bind him surely in the inner room.
Old-ca.
This is well begun, God send us happy speed,
Hard shift you see men make in time of need: Harpoole.
Harp.
Hear my Lord, come come away.
Enter seruing men againe.
1
I marvel that my lord should stay so long.
2
He hath sent to seek us, I dare lay my life.
3
We come in good time, see where he is coming.
Harp.
I beseech you good my lord of Rochester, be favourable to my lord and master.
Old-ca.
The inner rooms be very hot and close,
I do not like this air here in the Tower.
Harp
His case is hard my lord, you shall safely get out of the Tower, but I will down
upon them, in which time get you away.
Old-ca.
Fellow thou troublest me.
Harp.
Hear me my Lord, hard under Islington wait
you my coming, I will bring my Lady ready, with horses
to convey you hence.
Old-ca.
Fellow, go back again unto thy Lord and counsel him.
Harp.
Nay my good lord of Rochester, I will bring you to Saint Albons through the woods, I warrant you.
Old-ca.
Villain away.
Harp.
Nay since I am past the Towers liberty, thou partest not so.
he drawes.
Bish.
Clubs clubs, clubs.
1
Murther, murther murther.
2
Down with him.
they fight.
3
A villain traitor.
Harp.
You cowardly rogues.
sir Iohn escapes.
Enter Lieftenant and his men.
Lieft.
Who is so bold as dare to draw a sword,
So near unto the entrance of the Tower?
1
This ruffian servant to sir Iohn Old-castle was like
to have slain my Lord.
Lieft.
Lay hold on him.
Harp.
Stand off if you love your puddings.
Rochester calls within.
within.
Rock
Help help, help, M. Lieutenant help.
Lief.
Who is that within? some treason in the Tower upon my life,
look in, who is that which calls?
enter Roch. bound.
Lief.
Without your cloak my lord of Rochester?
Harp.
There, now it works, then let me speed, for now is the fittest time for me to scape away.
exit
Lief.
Why do you look so ghastly and affrighted?
Roch.
Old-castle that traitor and his man,
When you had left me to confer with him,
Took, bound, and stripped me, as you see,
And left me lying in his inner chamber,
And so departed, and I
Lief.
And you! never say that the Lord Cobhams man
Did here set upon you like to murther you.
1
And so he did.
Roch.
It was upon his master then he did,
That in the brawl the traitor might escape.
Lief.
Where is this Harpoole?
2
Here he was even now.
Lief.
Where can you tell? they are both escaped,
Since it so happens that he is escaped,
I am glad you are a witness of the same,
It might have else been laid unto my charge,
That I had been consenting to the fact.
Roch.
Come, search shall be made for him with expedition, the havens laid that he shall not escape,
and hue and cry continue thorough England, to find this damned
dangerous heretic.
exeunt.
Enter Cambridge, Scroope, and Gray, as in a chamber, and set downe at a table,
consulting about their treason: King Harry and Suffolke listning at the doore.
Camb.
In mine opinion, Scroope hath well advised,
Poison will be the only aptest mean,
And fittest for our purpose to dispatch him.
Gray
But yet there may be doubt in their delivery,
Harry is wise, therefore Earl of Cambridge,
I Judge that way not so convenient.
Scroop
What think ye then of this? I am his bedfellow,
And unsuspected nightly sleep with him.
What if I venture in those silent hours,
When sleep hath sealed up
all mortal eyes,
To murder him in bed? how like ye that?
Camb.
Herein consists no safety for yourself,
And you disclosed, what shall become of us?
But this day (as ye know) he will aboard,
The wind so fair, and set away for France,
If as he goes, or entering in the ship,
It might be done, then it were excellent,
Gray
Why any of these, or if you will,
I will cause a present sitting of the Council,
Wherein I will pretend some matter of such weight,
As needs must have his royal company,
And to dispatch him in the Council chamber.
Camb.
Tush, yet I hear not anything to purpose,
I wonder that lord Cobham stays so long,
His counsel in this case would much avail us.
They rise from the table, and the King steps in to them with his Lordes.
Scroop
What shall we rise thus, and determine nothing?
Har.
That were a shame indeed, no, sit again,
And you shall have my counsel in this case,
If you can find no way to kill this King,
Then you shall see how I can further ye,
Scroopes way by poison was indifferent,
But yet being bed-fellow unto the King,
And unsuspected sleeping in his bosom,
In mine opinion, that is the likelier way,
For such false friends are able to do much,
And silent night is Treason's fittest friend,
Now, Cambridge in his setting hence for France,
Or by the way, or as he goes aboard,
To do the deed, that was indifferent too,
Yet somewhat doubtful; might I speak my mind,
For many reasons needless now to urge.
Mary Lord Gray came something near the point,
To have the King at council, and there murder him,
As Caesar was amongst his dearest friends:
None like to that, if all were of his mind.
Tell me o tell me you bright honours stains,
For which of all my kindnesses to you,
Are ye become thus traitors to your king?
And France must have the spoil of Harries life?
All.
O pardon us dread lord.
all kneeling.
Har.
How pardon ye? that were a sin indeed,
Drag them to death, which justly they deserve,
they leade them away.
And France shall dearly buy this villainy,
So soon as we set footing on her breast,
God have the praise for our deliverance,
And next, our thanks (Lord Cobham) is to thee,
True perfect mirror of nobility.
exeunt.
Enter the hoste, sir Iohn Old-castle, and Harpoole.
Hoste
Sir, you are welcome to this house, to such as hear is with all my heart, but by the mass
I fear your lodging will be the worst,
I have but two beds, and they are both in a chamber,
and the carrier and his daughter lies in the one, and you and your wife must lie in the other.
L. Cobh.
In faith sir, formyself I do not greatly pass,
My wife is weary, and would be at rest,
For we have travelled very far today,
We must be content with such as you have.
Hoste
But I cannot tell how to do with your man.
Harpoole
What, hast thou never an empty room in thy house for me?
Hoste
Not a bed by my troth: there came a poor Irish man,
and I lodged him in the barn,
where he has fair straw, though he have nothing else.
Harp.
Well mine host, I pray thee help me
to a pair of fair sheets,
and I will go lodge with him.
Hoste
By the mass that thou shalt, a good pair
of hempen sheets, were never lain in: Come.
exeunt.
Enter Constable, Maior, and Watch.
Maior
What have you searched the town?
Const.
All the town sir, we have not left a house
unsearched that uses to lodge.
Maior
Surely my lord of Rochester was then deceived,
Or ill informed of sir Iohn Old-castle,
Or if he came this way, he is past the town,
He could not else have scaped you in the search.
Const.
The privy watch hath been abroad all night,
And not a stranger lodgeth in the town
But he is known, only a lusty priest
We found in bed with a pretty wench,
That says she is his wife, yonder at the sheeres:
But we have charged the host
with his forth coming
Tomorrow morning.
Maior
What think you best to do?
Const.
Faith master mayor, here is
a few straggling houses beyond the bridge,
and a little Inn where carriers use
to lodge, though I think surely he would never lodge there:
but we will go search, and the rather, because there came notice
to the town the last night of an Irish man,
that had done a murder, whom we are to make search for.
Maior
Come I pray you, and be circumspect.
exeunt
Const.
First beset the house, before you begin the search.
Officer
Content, every man take a several place.
heere is heard a great noyse within.
Keep, keep, strike him down there,
down with him.
Enter Constable with the Irish man in Harpooles apparell.
Con.
Come you villainous heretic, confess where your master is.
Irish man
Vat master?
Maior
Vat master, you counterfeit rebel,
this shall not serve your turn.
Irish man
Be sent Patrike I ha no master.
Con.
Wheres the lord Cobham sir Iohn Old-castle that lately is escaped out of the Tower.
Irish man
What Lord Cobham?
Maior
You counterfeit, this shall not serve you,
we will torture you, we will make
you to confess where that arch-heretic
Lord Cobham is: come bind him fast.
Irish man
Ahone, ahone, ahone, a Cree.
Con.
Ahone, you crafty rascal?
exeunt.
Lord Cobham comes out in his gowne stealing.
Cobh.
Harpoole, Harpoole, I hear a marvelous noise
about the house, God warrant us,
I fear we are pursued: what Harpoole.
within.
Harp.
Who calls there?
Cobh.
It is I, dost thou not hear a noise about the house?
Harp.
Yes mary do I, 'swounds, I cannot
find my hose,
this Irish rascal that was lodged with me all night,
hath stolen my apparel, and has left me nothing but a
lousy mantle, and a pair of brogues.
Get up, get up,
and if the carrier and his wench be asleep, change you with them as he hath done with me,
and see if we can escape.
A noyse againe heard about the house, a pretty while, then enter the Constable
meeting Harpoole in the Irish mans apparrell.
Con.
Stand close, hear comes the Irish man that did the murther,
by all tokens, this is he.
Maior
And perceiving the house beset, would get away: stand sirrah.
Harp.
What art thou that biddest me stand?
Con.
I am the Officer, and am come to search for an Irish man, such a villain
as thyself, that hast murthered
a man this last night by the hie way.
Harp.
'sblood Constable, art thou mad? am I an Irish man?
Maior
Sirrah, we will find
you an Irish man before we part: lay hold upon him.
Con.
Make him fast: O thou bloody rogue!
Enter Lord Cobham and his lady in the carrier and wenches apparrell.
Cobham
What will these Ostlers sleep all day?
Good morrow, good morrow, Come wench, come,
Saddle, saddle, now afore God too foord-dayes, ha?
Con.
Who comes there?
Maior
O it is Lancashire carrier,
let him pass.
Cobham
What, will nobody open the gates here?
Come, let us into stable to look to our capons.
The carrier calling.
Club calling
Host, why ostler, zwookes, here is such abomination company of boys:
a pox of this pigsty at the house end, it fills all the house full of fleas, ostler, ostler.
Ostler
Who calls there, what would you have?
Club
Zwookes, do you rob your guests? do
you lodge rogues and slaves, and scoundrels, ha?
they ha stolen our clothes here: why ostler?
Ostler
A murrain choke you, what a bawling you keep.
Hoste
How now, what would the carrier have? look
up there.
Ostler
They say that the man and woman that lay by them have stolen their clothes.
Hoste
What, are the strange folks up yet that came in yester night?
Const.
What mine host, up so early?
Hoste
What, master Mayor, and master Constable!
Maior
We are come to seek for some suspected persons,
and such as hear we found, have apprehended.
Enter the Carrier and Kate in lord Cobham and ladies apparell.
Con.
Who comes hear?
Club
Who comes here? a plague found o'me,
you bawl quoth he, odds hat,
I will forswear your house,
you lodged a fellow and his wife by us
that have run away with our apparel,
and left us such gewgaws here, come Kate,
come to me, thowse dizzard i'faith.
Maior
Mine host, know you this man?
Hoste
Yes master Mayor, I will
give my word for him, why neighbour Club, how comes this gear about?
Kate
Now a foul on it, I cannot
make this gewgaw stand on my head,
now the lads and the lasses won flout me too too
Const.
How came this man and woman thus attired?
Hoste
Here came a man and woman hither this last night, which I did take for substantial people,
and lodged all in one chamber by these folks: methinks,
have been so bold to change apparel,
and gone away this morning ere they rose.
Maior
That was that villain traitor Old-castle,
that thus escaped us:
make out hue and cry yet after him,
keep fast that traitorous rebel
his servant there: farewell mine host.
Carier
Come Kate Owdham, thou and I trimly dizzard.
Kate
In faith neame Club, I wot never what to do, I be so
flouted and so shouted at: but by the mass I cry.
exeunt.
Enter Priest and Doll.
sir Iohn
Come Dol, come, be merry wench,
Farewell Kent, we are not for thee,
Be lusty my lass, come for Lancashire,
We must nip the Boung for these crowns.
Doll
Why is all the gold spent already that you had the other day?
sir Iohn
Gone Doll, gone, flown, spent, vanished, the devil,
drink and the dice, has devoured all.
Doll
You might have left me in Kent, that you might, until
you had been better provided,
I could have stayed at Cobham.
sir Iohn
No Dol, no, I will none of that, Kent is too hot Doll,
Kent is too hot: the weathercock of Wrotham will crow no longer,
we have plucked him, he has lost his feathers,
I have pruned him bare, left him thrice, is moulted, is moulted, wench.
Doll
Faith sir Iohn, I might have gone to service again,
old master Harpoole told me he would provide me a mistress.
sir Iohn
Peace Doll, peace, come mad wench, I will make thee an honest woman,
we will into Lancashire to our friends,
the troth is, I will marry thee, we want but a little money
to buy us a horse, and to spend by the way,
the next sheep that comes shall loose his fleece, we will
have these crowns wench I warrant thee: stay,
who comes here? some Irish villain methinks that
enter the Irish man with his master slaine.
has slain a man, and draws him out of the way to rifle him:
stand close Doll, we will see the end.
The Irish man falls to rifle his master.
Alas poor master, Sir Rishard Lee, be saint Patricke is rob and cut thy throat,
for the chain, and thy money, and the gold ring,
be me truly is love thee well, but now dow be kill thee,
be shitten knave.
sir Iohn.
Stand sirrah, what art thou?
Irishman.
Be saint Patricke master is poor Irishman, is a leufter.
sir Iohn
Sirrah, sirrah, you are a damned rogue, you have
killed a man here, and rifled him of all that he has, 'sblood you
rogue deliver, or I will not leave you so much as an Irish hair
above your shoulders, you whoreson Irish dog,
sirrah untruss presently, come off and dispatch, or by this cross
I will fetch your head off as clean as a bark.
Irishman.
Wees me saint Patricke, I kill me master for chain
and his ring, and nows be rob of all, me is undo.
Priest robs him.
sir Iohn
Avaunt you rascal, go sirrah, be walking, come Doll
the devil laughs, when one thief robs another,
come mad wench, we will to saint Albons,
and revel in our bower, hey my brave girl.
Doll
O thou art old sir Iohn, when all is done in faith.
Enter the hoste of the Bell with the Irish man.
Irishman
By my troth master is poor Irishman, is want ludging,
is have no money, is starve and cold,
good master give her some meat, is famise and tie.
Host
in faith my fellow I have no lodging,
but what I keep for my guess, that I may not disappoint,
as for meat thou shalt have such as there is,
and if thou wilt lie in the barn,
there is fair straw, and room enough.
Irishman
Is thank my master heartily, de straw is good bed for me.
Host
Ho Robin?
Robin
Who calls?
Host
Show this poor Irishman into the barn, go sirrah.
exeunt.
Enter carrier and Kate.
Club.
Ho, who is within here, who looks to the horses?
Gods hat here is fine work, the hens in the manger,
and the hogs in the litter, a bots found you all, here is a house well
looked too in faith.
Kate
Mass goffe Club, I very cold.
Club.
Get in Kate, get in to fire and warm thee.
Club
Ho Iohn Hostler.
Hostler
What gaffer Club, welcome to saint Albons,
How does all our friends in Lancashire?
Club
Well God have mercy Iohn, how does Tom, wheres he?
Hostler
O Tom is gone from hence, he is at the three horse-loues at Stony-stratford,
how does old Dick Dunne?
Club
Gods hat old Dunne has been mired in a slough in Brickhil-lane, a plague found it,
yonder is such abomination weather as never was seen.
Hostler.
Gods hat thief, have one half peck
of peas and oats more for that, as I am Iohn Ostler,
he has been ever as good a jade
as ever travelled.
Club
Faith well said old Iacke, thou art the old lad still.
Hostler
Come Gaffer Club, unload, unload, and get to supper,
and I will rub dunne the while. Come.
exeunt.
Enter sir Iohn Old-castle, and his Lady disguisde.
Oldca.
Come Madam, happily escaped, here let us sit,
This place is far remote from any path,
And here awhile our weary limbs may rest,
To take refreshing, free from the pursuit
Of envious Winchester.
Lady
But where (my Lord, )
Shall we find rest for our disquiet minds?
There dwell untamed thoughts that hardly stoop,
To such abasement of disdained rags,
We were not wont to travel thus by night,
Especially on foot.
Oldca.
No matter love,
Extremities admit no better choice,
And were it not for thee, say froward time,
Imposed a greater task, I would esteem it
As lightly as the wind that blows upon us,
But in thy sufferance I am doubly tasked,
Thou wast not wont to have the earth thy stool,
Nor the moist dewy grass thy pillow, nor
Thy chamber to be the wide horizon,
Lady
How can it seem a trouble, having you
A partner with me, in the worst I feel?
No gentle Lord, your presence would give ease
To death itself, should he now seize upon me,
Behold what my foresight hath undertaken
heres bread and cheese and a bottle.
For fear we faint, they are but homely cates.
Yet sauced with hunger, they may seem as sweet,
As greater dainties we were wont to taste.
Oldca.
Praise be to him whose plenty sends both this,
And all things else our mortal bodies need,
Nor scorn we this poor feeding, nor the state
We now are in, for what is it on earth,
Nay under heaven, continues at a stay?
Ebbs not the sea, when it hath overflown?
Flows not darkness when the day is gone?
And see we not sometime the eye of heaven,
Dimmed with overflying clouds:
there is not that work
Of careful nature, or of cunning art,
(How strong, how beauteous, or how rich it be)
But falls in time to ruin: here gentle Madam,
In this one draught I wash my sorrow down.
drinkes.
Lady
And I encouraged with your cheerful speech,
Will do the like.
Oldca.
Pray God poor Harpoole come,
If he should fall into the Bishops hands,
Or not remember where we bade him meet us,
It were the thing of all things else, that now
Could breed revolt in this new peace of mind.
Lady
Fear not my Lord, he is witty to devise,
And strong to execute a present shift.
Oldca.
That power be still his guide hath guided us,
My drowsy eyes wax
heavy, early rising,
Together with the travel we have had,
Make me that I could gladly take a nap,
Were I persuaded we might be secure.
Lady
Let that depend on me, whilst you do sleep,
I will watch that no misfortune happen us,
Lay then your head upon my lap sweet Lord,
And boldly take your rest.
Oldca.
I shall dear wife,
Be too much trouble to thee.
Lady
Urge not that,
My duty binds me, and your love commands.
I would I had the skill with tuned voice,
To draw on sleep with some sweet melody,
But imperfection and unaptness too,
Are both repugnant, fear inserts the one,
The other nature hath denied me use.
But what talk I of means to purchase that,
Is freely happened? sleep with gentle hand,
Hath shut his eyelids, o victorious labour,
How soon thy power can charm the bodies sense?
And now thou likewise climbest unto my brain,
Making my heavy temples stoop to thee,
Great God of heaven from danger keep us free.
both sleepes.
Enter sir Richard Lee, and his men
Lee.
A murder closely done and in my ground?
Search carefully, if any where it were,
This obscure thicket is the likeliest place.
seruant.
Sir I have found the body stiff with cold,
And mangled cruelly with many wounds.
Lee
Look if thou knowest him, turn his body up,
A lack it is my son, my son and heir,
Whom two years since, I sent to Ireland,
To practise there the discipline of war,
And coming home (for so he wrote to me)
Some savage heart, some bloody
devilish hand,
Either in hate, or thirsting for his coin,
Hath here sluiced out his blood, unhappy hour,
Accursed place, but most inconstant fate,
That hadst reserved him from the bullets fire,
And suffered him to scape the wood-karnes fury,
Didst here ordain the treasure of his life,
(Even here within the arms of tender peace,
And where security gate greatest hope)
To be consumed by treasons wasteful hand?
And what is most afflicting to my soul,
That this his death and murther should be wrought,
Without the knowledge by whose means it was done,
2 seru.
Not so sir, I have found the authors of it,
See where they sit, and in their bloody fists,
The fatal instruments of death and sin.
Lee
Just judgment of that power, whose gracious eye,
Loathing the sight of such a heinous fact,
Dazzled their senses with benumbing-sleep,
Till their unhallowed treachery were known:
Awake ye monsters, murderers awake,
Tremble for horror, blush you cannot choose,
Beholding this inhumane deed of yours.
Old.
What mean you sir to trouble weary souls,
And interrupt us of our quiet sleep?
Lee
O devilish! can you boast unto yourselves
Of quiet sleep, having within your hearts
The guilt of murder waking, that with cries
Deafen the loud thunder, and solicits heaven,
With more than Mandrakes shrieks for your offence?
Lady Old.
What murder? you upbraid us wrongfully.
Lee
Can you deny the fact? see you not hear,
The body of my son by you misdone?
Look on his wounds, look on his purple hew:
Do we not find you where the deed was done?
Were not your knives fast closed in your hands?
Is not this cloth an argument beside,
Thus stained and spotted with his innocent blood?
These speaking characters, were nothing else
To plead against ye, would convict you both.
Bring them away, bereavers of my joy,
At Hartford where the Assizes now are kept,
Their lives shall answer for my sons lost life.
Old castle
As we are innocent, so may we speed.
Lee
As I am wronged, so may the law proceed.
exeunt.
Enter bishop of Rochester, constable of S. Albons, with sir Iohn of Wrotham, Doll his wench,
and the Irishman in Harpooles apparell.
Bishop
What intricate confusion have we hear?
Not two hours since we apprehended one,
In habit Irish, but in speech, not so:
And now you bring another, that in speech
Is altogether Irish, but in habit
Seems to be English: yea and more than so,
The servant of that heretic Lord Cobham.
Irishman
Fait me be no servant of the lord Cobhams,
Me be Mack Chane of Vlster.
Bishop
Otherwise called Harpoole of Kent, go to sit,
You cannot blind us with your broken Irish.
sir Iohn
Trust me, my Lord Bishop, whether Irish,
Or English, Harpoole or not Harpoole, that
I leave to be decided by the trial:
But sure I am this man by face and speech
Is he that murdered young sir Richard Lee:
I met him presently upon the fact,
And that he slew his master for that gold,
Those jewels, and that chain I took from him.
Bishop
Well, our affairs do call us
back to London,
So that we cannot prosecute the cause
As we desire to do, therefore we leave
The charge with you, to see they be conveyed
To Hartford Assize: both this counterfeit
And you sir Iohn of Wrotham, and your wench,
For you are culpable as well as they,
Though not for murder, yet for felony.
But since you are the means to bring to light
This graceless murder, you shall bear with you,
Our letters to the Judges of the bench,
To be your friends in what they lawful may.
sir Iohn
I thank your Lordship.
Bish.
So, away with them.
exeunt.
Enter Gaoler" and his man, bringing forth Old castle.
Gaoler
Bring forth the prisoners, see the court prepared,
The Justices are coming to the bench.
So, let him stand, away, and fetch the rest.
exeunt.
Old.
O give me patience to endure this scourge,
Thou that art fountain of that virtuous stream,
And though contempt, false witness, and reproach
Hang on these iron gyves, to press my life
As low as earth, yet strengthen me with faith,
That I may mount in spirit above the clouds.
Enter Gaoler bringing in Lady Old-castle, and Harpoole.
Here comes my lady, sorrow it is for her,
Thy wound is grievous, else I scoff at thee.
What and poor Harpoole! art thou in the briars too?
Harp.
Aye faith my Lord, I am in, get out how I can.
Lady
Say (gentle Lord) for now we are alone,
And may confer, shall we confess in brief,
Of whence, and what we are, and so prevent
The accusation is commenced against us?
Old.
What will that help us? being known,
sweet love,
We shall for heresy be put to death,
For so they term the religion we profess.
No, if it be ordained we must die,
And at this instant, this our comfort be,
That of the guilt imposed, our souls are free.
Harp.
Yea, yea my lord, Harpoole is so resolved,
I wreak of death the less, in that I die
Not by the sentence of that envious priest
The Bishop of Rochester, o were it he,
Or by his means that I should suffer here,
It would be double torment to my soul.
Lady
Well, be it then according as heaven please.
Enter lord Iudge, two Iustices, Maior of Saint Albons, lord Powesse and his lady, and old sir Richard Lee:
the Iudge and Iustices take their places.
Iudge
Now M. Mayor, what gentleman is that,
You bring with you, before us and the bench?
Maior
The Lord Powes if it like your honour,
And this his Lady, travelling toward Wales,
Who for they lodged last night within my house,
And my Lord Bishop did lay search for such,
Were very willing to come on with me,
Lest for their sakes, suspicion we might wrong.
Iudge
We cry your honour mercy good my Lord,
Wilt please ye take your place, madam your ladyship,
May here or where you will repose yourself,
Until this business now in hand be past.
Lady Po.
I will withdraw into some other room,
So that your Lordship, and the rest be pleased.
Iudge
With all our hearts: attend the Lady there.
Lord Po.
Wife, I have eyed yond prisoners all this while,
And my conceit doth tell me, it is our friend,
The noble Cobham, and his virtuous Lady.
Lady Po.
I think no less, are they suspected trow ye
For doing of this murder?
Lord Po.
What it means,
I cannot tell, but we shall know anon,
Mean space as you pass by them, ask the question,
But do it secretly, you be not seen,
And make some sign that I may know your mind.
Lady Po.
My Lord Cobham, madam?
as she passeth ouer the stage by them.
Old.
No Cobham now, nor madam as you love us,
But Iohn of Lancashire, and Ione his wife.
Lady Po.
O tell, what is it that our love can do,
To pleasure you, for we are bound to you.
Oldca.
Nothing but this, that you conceal our names,
So gentle lady pass for being spied.
Lady Po.
My heart I leave, to bear part of your grief.
exit,
Iudge
Call the prisoners to the bar: sir Richard Lee,
What evidence can you bring against these people,
To prove them guilty of the murder done?
Lee.
This bloody towel, and these naked knives,
Beside we found them sitting by the place,
Where the dead body lay within a bush.
Iudge
What answer you why law should not proceed,
According to this evidence given in,
To tax ye with the penalty of death?
Old.
That we are free from murders very thought,
And know not how the gentleman was slain.
1 Iust.
How came this linen cloth so bloody then?
Lady Cob.
My husband hot with travelling my lord,
His nose gushed out a bleeding, that was it.
2 Iust.
But wherefore were your sharpe edged knives unsheathed?
Lady Cob.
To cut such simple victual as we had.
Iudge
Say we admit this answer to those articles,
What made ye in so private a dark nook,
So far remote from any common path,
As was the thick where the dead corpse was thrown?
Old.
Journeying my lord from London from the term,
Down into Lancashire where we do dwell,
And what with age and travel being faint,
We gladly sought a place where we might rest,
Free from resort of other passengers,
And so we strayed into that secret corner.
Iudge
These are but ambages to drive of time,
And linger Justice from her purposed end.
But who are these?
Enter the Constable, bringing in the Irishman, sir Iohn of Wrotham, and Doll
Const.
Stay Judgment, and release those innocents,
For here is he, whose hand hath done the deed,
For which they stand indicted at the bar,
This savage villain, this rude Irish slave,
His tongue already hath confessed the fact,
And here is witness to confirm as much.
sir Iohn
Yes my good Lords, no sooner had he slain
His loving master for the wealth he had,
But I upon the instant met with him,
And what he purchased with the loss of blood,
With strokes I presently bereaved him of,
Some of the which is spent, the rest remaining,
I willingly surrender to the hands
Of old sir Richard Lee, as being his,
Beside my Lord Judge, I greet your honour,
With letters from my Lord of Winchester.
deliuers a letter.
Lee
Is this the wolf whose thirsty throat did drink
My dear son's blood? art thou the snake
He cherished, yet with envious piercing sting,
Assailedst him mortally? foul stigmatic,
Thou venom of the country where thou lived,
And pestilence of this: were it not that law
Stands ready to revenge thy cruelty,
Traitor to God, thy master, and to me,
These hands should be thy executioner.
Iudge
Patience sir Richard Lee, you shall have justice,
And he the guerdon of his base desert,
The fact is odious, therefore take him hence,
And being hanged until the wretch be dead,
His body after shall be hanged in chains,
Near to the place, where he did act the murder.
Irish.
Prithee Lord judge let me have mine own clothes,
my strouces there, and let me be hanged in a with
after my country, the Irish fashion.
exit.
Iudge
Go to, away with him, and now sir Iohn,
Although by you, this murther came to light,
And therein you have well deserved, yet upright law,
So will not have you be excused and quit,
For you did rob the Irishman, by which
You stand attained here of felony,
Beside, you have been lewd, and many years
Led a lascivious unbeseeming life.
sir Iohn
O but my Lord, he repents, sir Iohn repents he will mend.
Iudge
In hope thereof, together with the favour,
My Lord of Winchester entreats for you,
We are content you shall be proved.
sir Iohn
I thank your good Lordship.
Iudge
These other falsely here, accused, and brought
In peril wrongfully, we in like sort
Do set at liberty, paying their fees.
Lord Po.
That office if it please ye I will do,
For countries sake, because I know them well,
They are my neighbours, therefore of my cost,
Their charges shall be paid.
Lee.
And for amends,
Touching the wrong unwittingly I have done,
There are a few crowns more for them to drink.
giues them a purse.
Iudge.
Your kindness merits praise sir Richard Lee,
So let us hence.
exeunt all but Lord Powesse and Oldcastle.
Lord Po.
But Powesse still must stay,
There yet remains a part of that true love,
He owes his noble friend unsatisfied,
And unperformed which first of all doth bind me,
To gratulate your lordships safe delivery,
And then entreat, that since unlooked for thus,
We here are met, your honour would vouchsafe,
To ride with me to Wales, where though my power,
(Though not to quittance those great benefits,
I have received of you) yet both my house,
My purse my servants, and what else I have,
Are all at your command, deny me not,
I know the Bishops hate pursues ye so,
As there is no safety in abiding here.
Old.
It is true my Lord, and God forgive him for it.
Lord Po.
Then let us hence, you shall be straight provided
Of lusty geldings, and once entered Wales,
Well may the Bishop hunt, but spite his face,
He never more shall have the game in chase.
exeunt.
FINIS.