Was it not sail the clergy did refuse
To lend us money towards our wars in France?
Suf. It was, my lord, but very wrongfully.
K. Henry. 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 on them
As of your loving subjects, and suppress
All such malicious errors as begin

To spot their calling, and disturb the church.
K. Henry. God else forbid !-Why, Suffolk, 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.

K. Henry. 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 dreamed of any such contention.

Roch. But in his name the quarrel did begin,
About the opinion which he held, my liege.
K. Henry. What if it did? was either he in
place

To take part with them, or abet them in it?
If brabbling fellows, whose enkindled blood
Sceths 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?

Suf. With pardon of your highness, my dread lord,

Such little sparks, neglected, may in time
Grow to a mighty flame. But that's not all;
He doth beside maintain a strange religion,
And will not be compelled to come to mass.
Roch. We do beseech you therefore, gracious
prince,

Without offence unto your majesty,
We may be bold to use authority.
K. Henry. As how?

As a sufficient refuge, unto whom
Not any but might lawfully appeal :
But we'll not argue now upon that point.
For sir John Oldcastle, whom you accuse,
Let me entreat you to dispense a while
With your high title of preheminence.
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'll 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 King HENRY, HUNTINGTON,
SUFFOLK, and Butler.

S. John. How now, my lord? why stand you discontent?

Insooth, methinks the king hath well decreed. Roch. Ay, ay, sir John, if he would keep his word:

But I perceive he favours him so much
As this will be to small effect, I fear.

S. John. Why then I'll tell you what you're 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, howsoe'er it fall.
Roch. And well remembered; I will have is
so;

A summer shall be sent S. John. Yea, do so.

remains

about it straight. [Exit. In the mean space this

For kind sir John of Wrotham, honest Jack.
Methinks the purse of gold the bishop gave
Made a good shew, it had a tempting look:
Beshrew me, but my fingers' ends do itch
To be upon those golden ruddocks. Well, 'tis
thus;

I am not as the world doth take me for:

If ever wolf were clothed in sheep's coat,
Then I am he; old huddle and twang i'faith:
A priest in shew, but, in plain terms, a thief.
Yet, let me tell you too, an honest thief;
One that will take it where it may be spared,
And spend it freely in good fellowship.
I have as many shapes as Proteus had;

That still, when any villany is done,

There may be none suspect it was sir John.
Besides, to comfort me, (for what's this life,
Except the crabbed bitterness thereof

Be sweetened now and then with lechery?)
I have my Doll, my concubine as 'twere,
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'll meet him on his way to court,
And shrive him of it; there will be the sport.

SCENE III.-Kent.

[Exit.

An outer Court before Lord Cobham's house. A public road leading to it; and an Alehouse appearing at a little distance.

Enter two old Men and two Soldiers.

1 Sold. God help, God help! there's law for
punishing,

But there's no law for our necessity:
There be more stocks to set poor soldiers in,
Than there be houses to relieve them at.

1 Old M. Ay, house-keeping decays in every
place,

Even as Saint Peter writ, still worse and worse. 2 Old M. Master mayor of Rochester has given command, that none shall go abroad out of the parish; and has set down an order forsooth, what every poor householder must give for our relief; where there be some 'sessed, I may say to you, had almost as much need to beg as we.

1 Old M. It is a hard world the while.

2 Old M. If a poor man ask at door for God's sake, they ask him for a licence, or a certificate from a justice.

1 Sold. Faith we have none, but what we bear upon our bodies, our maim'd limbs, God help us. 2 Sold. And yet as lame as I am, I'll with the king into France, if I can but crawl a ship-board. I had rather be slain in France, than starve in England.

1 Old M. Ha, were I but as lusty as I was at Shrewsbury battle, I would not do as I do :-but we are now come to the good lord Cobham's, the best man to the poor in all Kent,

2 Old M. God bless him! there be but few such.

Enter Lord CовHAM and HARPOOL.

Cob. Thou peevish froward man, what wouldst thou have?

Har. This pride, this pride, brings all to beg

Shew me such two men now: no, no; your backs, Your backs, the devil and pride, has cut the throat Of all good house-keeping; they were the best Yeomens' masters that ever were in England.

Cob. Yea, except thou have a crew of filthy knaves

And sturdy rogues, still feeding at my gate,
There is no hospitality with thee.

Har. They may sit at the gate well enough, but the devil of any thing you give them, except they'll eat stones.

Cob. 'Tis 'long then of such hungry knaves as

They know their hours, I warrant you.

1 Old M. God bless your honour! God save the good lord Cobham, and all his house! 1 Sold. Good your honour, bestow your blessed alms upon poor meu.

Cob. Now, sir, here be your alms-knights: now are you

As safe as the emperor.

Har. My alms-knights? Nay, they're yours: it is a shame for you, and I'll stand to't; 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, they may beg their hearts out; there's no more charity among men than among so many mastiff dogs. [Aside. What make you here, you needy knaves? Away, away, you villains.

2 Sold. I beseech you, sir, be good to us.
Cob. 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
Controul you, sir.

Hur. What should I give them? you are grown so beggarly, that you can scarce give a bit of bread at your door. You talk of your religion so long, that you have banished charity from you. A man may make a flax-shop in your kitchen chimnies, for any fire there is stirring.

Cob. If thou wilt give them nothing, send them hence ;

Let them not stand here starving in the cold.

Har. Who! I drive them hence? If I drive poor men from the door, I'll be hang'd; I know not what I may come to myself. God help ye, poor knaves, ye see the world. Well, you had a mother; O God be with thee, good lady, thy soul's 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.

[To Lord COBHAM, Cob. Even the worst deed that e'er my mother did,

Was in relieving such a fool as thou.

Har. Ay, I am a fool still: with all your wit you'll die a beggar; go to.

Cob. 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.
Sold. God bless your honour!

Har. Hang you rogues, hang you; there's nothing but misery amongst you; you fear no law,

you.

2 Old M. God bless you, good master Ralph, God save your life; you are good to the poor still. [Exeunt HARPOOL, Old Men, and Soldiers.

Enter Lord Powis, disguised.

Cob. What fellow's yonder comes along the grove?

Few passengers there be that know this way.
Methinks, he stops, as though he staid for me,
And meant to shroud himself among 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, suborn'd
To work me mischief:-as it pleaseth God.
If he come toward me, sure I'll stay his coming,
Be he but one man, whatsoe'er he be.
[Lord Powis advances.
I have been well acquainted with that face.
Pow. Well met, my honourable lord and
friend.

Cob. You are very welcome, sir, whate'er you

be;

But of this sudden, sir, I do not know you.

Pow. I am one that wisheth well unto your honour;

My name is Powis, an old friend of yours.

Cob. My honourable lord, and worthy friend, What makes your lordship thus alone in Kent? And thus disguised in this strange attire!

Pow. My lord, an unexpected accident
Hath at this time enforced me to these parts,
And thus it happ'd. Not yet full five days since,
Now at the last assize at Hereford,

It chanced that the lord Herbert and myself,
'Mongst other things, discoursing at the table,
Did fall in speech about some certain points
Of Wickliff's doctrine, 'gainst the papacy
And the religion catholic maintain'd
Through the most part of Europe at this day.
This wilful testy lord stuck not to say,
That Wickliff was a knave, a schismatic,
His doctrine devilish, and heretical;
And whatsoe'er he was, maintain'd 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, s

To be a perfect favourer of the truth.

And, to be short, from words we fell to blows,

news.

Pow. 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.

Cob. 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 the vantage 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.

LONE.

enemies!

I hope his majesty is well.

But. In good health, my lord.

Cob. God long continue it! Methinks you look

As though you were not well: what ail ye, sir? But. 'Faith I have had a foolish odd mischance,

That angers me. Coming o'er Shooter's-Hill,
There came one to me like a sailor, and
Ask'd my money; and whilst I staid my horse,

SCENE I.-The same.

Enter a Sumner.

Sum. I have the law to warrant what I do; and though the lord Cobham be a nobleman, that dispenses not with law: I dare serve a process, were he five noblemen. Though we sumners make sometimes a mad slip in a corner with a pretty wench, a summer must not go always by seeing a man may be content to hide his eyes where he may feel his profit. Well, this is lord Cobham's house; if I cannot speak with him, I'll clap my citation upon his door; so my lord of Rochester bade me : but methinks here comes one of his men.

Enter HARPOOL.

Har. Welcome, good fellow, welcome: who would'st thou speak with?

Sum. With my lord Cobham I would speak, if thou be one of his men.

Har. Yes, I am one of his men but thou can'st not speak with my lord.

Sum. May I send to him then?

Har. I'll tell thee that, when I know thy errand. Sum. I will not tell my errand to thee. Har. Then keep it to thyself, and walk like a knave as thou cam'st.

Sum. I tell thee, my lord keeps no knaves, sirrah.

Har. Then thou servest him not, I believe. What lord is thy master?

Sum. My lord of Rochester.

Har. In good time: And what would'st thou have with my lord Cobham?

Sum. I come, by virtue of a process, to cite him to appear before my lord in the court at Rochester.

Har. [Aside.] Well, God grant me patience! I could eat this couger. 6 My lord is not at home; therefore it were good, Sumner, you carried your process back.

Sam. Why if he will not be spoken withal, then will I leave it here; and see that he take knowledge of it. [Fixes a citation on the Gate.

Har. 'Zounds, you slave, do you set up your thou know what thou dost? Dost thou know on bills here? Go to; take it down again. Dost whom thou servest a process?

Sum. Yes, marry do I; on Sir John Oldcastle, lord Cobbam.

Har. I am glad thou knowest him yet. And, sirrah, dost thou not 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's that to my process?

Har. Marry this, sir; is this process parchment?

Sum. Yes, marry is it.

Har. And this seal wax?
Sum. It is so.

Har. 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 Sumner, dispatch; devour, sirrah, devour. 7

Sum. I am my lord of Rochester's sumner; I came to do my office, and thou shalt answer it.

Har. Sirrah, no railing, but betake yourself to your teeth. Thou shalt eat no worse than thou bring'st with thee. Thou bring'st 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.

6

7

Sum. I cannot eat it.

Har. Can you not? 'sblood, I'll beat you till you have a stomach. [Beats him. Sum. O hold, hold, good master serving-man; I will eat it.

Har. Be champing, be chewing, sir, or I'll chew you, you rogue. Tough wax is the purest of the honey.

Sum. The purest of the honey!-O, Lord, sir! oh! oh!

[Eats. Har. Feed, feed; 'tis wholsome, rogue, wholsome. Cannot you, like an honest sumner, walk with the devil your brother, to fetch in your bailift's rents, but you must come to a nobleman's house with process? if thy seal were as broad as the lead that covers Rochester church, thou should'st eat it.

Sum. O, I am almost choked, I am almost choked.

Har. Who's within there? will you shame my lord? is there no beer in the house? Butler, I say. Enter Butler.

But. Here, here. Hur. Give him beer. There; tough old sheepskin's bare dry meat. [The Sumner drinks. Sum. O, sir, let me go no farther; I'll eat my word.

Har. Yea, marry, sir, I mean you shall eat more than your own word; for I'll make you eat all the words in the process. Why, you drabmonger, 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'll cite you.A cup of sack for the sumner.

But. Here, sir, here.

Har. Here, slave, I drink to thee.
Sum. I thank you, sir.

Har. Now, if thou find'st thy stomach well, because thou shalt see my lord keeps meat in his house, if thou wilt go in, thou shalt have a piece of beef to thy breakfast.

Sum. No, I am very well, good master servingman, I thank you; very well, sir.

Har. I am glad on't: then be walking towards Rochester to keep your stomach warm. And, sumner, if I do 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 wi' you, master serving-man. [Exit Sumner.

Har. Farewell, sumner.

Enter Constable.

Con. Save you, master Harpool. Hur. Welcome constable, welcome constable; what news with thee?

Con. An't please you, master Harpool, I am to make hue and cry for a fellow with one eye, that has robb'd two clothiers; and am to clave your

they say there was a woman in the company. Har. Hast thou been at the ale-house? hast thou sought there?

Con. I durst not search in my lord Cobham's liberty, except I had some of his servants for my

warrant.

Har. An honest constable: Call forth him that keeps the ale-house there.

Con. Ho, who's within there?

Enter Ale-man.

Ale-man. Who calls there? Oh, is't you, master constable, and master Harpool? you're welcome with all my heart. What make you here so early this morning?

Har. Sirrah, what strangers do you lodge? there is a robbery done this morning, and we are to search for all suspected persons.

Ale-man. Gods-bore, I am sorry for't. I'faith, sir, I lodge nobody, but a good honest priest, call'd sir John a Wrotham, 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.

Har. What, is she here in thy house now? Ale-man. 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 bed's feet.

Har. Bring her forth, constable; bring her forth; let's see her, let's see her.

Ale-man. Dorothy, you must come down to master constable.

Enter DOROTHY:

Doll. Anon forsooth.

Har. Welcome, sweet lass, welcome. Doll. I thank you, good sir, and master constable also.

Har. A plump girl by the mass, a plump girl. Ha, Doll, ha! Wilt thou forsake the priest, and go with me, Doll?

Con. Ah! well said, master Harpool; you are a merry old man, i'faith; you will never be old. Now by the mack, a pretty wench indeed!

Har. You old mad merry constable, art thou advised of that? Ha, well said, Doll; fill some ale here.

Doll. Oh, if I wist this old priest would not stick to me, by Jove I would ingle this old serving-man. [Aside. Har. O you old mad colt, i'faith I'll ferk you; fill all the pots in the house there.

Con. Oh! well said, master Harpool; you are a heart of oak when all's done.

Hur. Ha, Doll, 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.

Har. Fill, sweet Doll, I'll drink to thee.