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John Old…castle To the King's use。 Let her go in no more； To fetch so
much as her apparel out。 There is your warrant from his majesty。
LORD WARDEN。 Good my Lord Bishop； pacify your wrath Against
the Lady。
BISHOP。 Then let her confess Where Old…castle her husband is
concealed。
LORD WARDEN。 I dare engage mine honor and my life； Poor
gentlewoman； she is ignorant And innocent of all his practises； If any evil
by him be practised。
BISHOP。 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。 Shew him his highness' warrant； Master Shrieve。
LORD WARDEN。 I am sorry for the noble gentleman
＇Enter Old…castle and Harpoole。＇
BISHOP。 Peace； he comes here； now do your office。
COBHAM。 Harpoole； what business have we here in hand？ What
makes the Bishop and the Sheriff here？ I fear my coming home is
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dangerous； I would I had not made such haste to Cobham。
HARPOOLE。 Be of good cheer； my Lord： if they be foes； we'll
scramble shrewdly with them： if they be friends； they are welcome。
One of them （my Lord Warden） is your friend； but me thinks my lady
weeps； I like not that。
CROAMER。 Sir John Old…castle； Lord Cobham； in the King's
majesty's name； I arrest ye of high treason。
COBHAM。 Treason； Master Croamer？
HARPOOLE。 Treason； Master Shrieve？ sblood； what treason？
COBHAM。 Harpoole； I charge thee； stir not； but be quiet still。 Do ye
arrest me； Master Shrieve； for treason？
BISHOP。 Yea； of high treason； traitor； heretic。
COBHAM。 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。
BISHOP。 What thou art the king's hand shall testify： Shewt him； Lord
Warden。
COBHAM。 Jesu defend me！ Is't possible your cunning could so
temper The princely disposition of his mind； To sign the damage of a loyal
subject？ Well； the best is； it bears an antedate； Procured by my absence；
and your malice； But I； since that； have shewd my self 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。
BISHOP。 We are not bound to do king offices For any traitor；
schismatic； nor heretic。 The king's hand is our warrant for our work； Who
is departed on his way for France； And at Southhampton doth repose this
night。
HARPOOLE。 O that it were the blessed will of God； that thou and I
were within twenty mile of it； on Salisbury plan！ I would lose my head if
ever thou broughtst thy head hither again。
＇Aside。＇
COBHAM。 My Lord Warden o' the cinque Ports； & my Lord of
Rochester； ye are joint Commissioners： favor me so much； On my
expence to bring me to the king。
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BISHOP。 What； to Southhampton？
COBHAM。 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； Master Shrieve； entreat。
＇Here the Lord Warden； and Croamer uncover the Bishop； and secretly
whispers with him。＇
Come hither； ladynay； sweet wife； forbear To heap one sorrow on
another's neck： Tis grief enough falsely to be accused； And not permitted
to acquit my self； Do not thou with thy kind respective tears； Torment thy
husband's 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 sister's house： That being near
me； you may comfort me。 One solace find I settled in my soul； That I am
free from treason's very thought： Only my conscience for the Gospel's
sake Is cause of all the troubles I sustain。
LADY COBHAM。 O my dear Lord； what shall betide of us？ You to
the Tower； and I turned out of doors； Our substance seized unto his
highness' use； Even to the garments longing to our backs。
HARPOOLE。 Patience； good madame； things at worst will mend； And
if they do not； yet our lives may end。
BISHOP。 Urge it no more； for if an Angel spake； I swear by sweet
saint Peter's blessed keys； First goes he to the Tower； then to the stake。
CROAMER。 But by your leave； this warrant doth not stretch To
imprison her。 BISHOP。 No； turn her out of doors；
＇Lord Warden and Old…castle whisper。＇
Even as she is； and lead him to the Tower； With guard enough for fear
of rescuing。
LADY COBHAM。 O； God requite thee； thou blood…thirsty man。
COBHAM。 May it not be； my Lord of Rochester？ Wherein have I
incurred your hate so far； That my appeal unto the King's denied？
BISHOP。 No hate of mine； but power of holy church； Forbids all favor
to false heretics。
COBHAM。 Your private malice； more than public power； Strikes most
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at me； but with my life it ends。
HARPOOLE。 O that I had the Bishop in that fear；
＇Aside。＇
That once I had his Sumner by our selves！
CROAMER。 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。
BISHOP。 This old iniquity； this heretic？ That； in contempt of our
church discipline； Compelled my Sumner to devour his process！ Old
Ruffian past…grace； upstart schismatic； Had not the King prayed us to
pardon ye； Ye had fried for it； ye grizzled heretic。
HARPOOLE。 Sblood； my lord Bishop； ye do me wrong。 I am neither
heretic nor puritan； but of the old church： I'll 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
whitsontide。
CROAMER。 A merry； mad； conceited knave； my lord。
HARPOOLE。 That knave was simply put upon the Bishop。
BISHOP。 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。
COBHAM。 God bless my soul from such cold charity！
BISHOP。 Too th' 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。
LORD WARDEN。 Yes； my lord。
＇Enter the Sumner with books。＇
BISHOP。 What bringst thou there？ what； books of heresy？
SUMNER。 Yea； my lord； here's not a latin book； no； not so much as
our lady's Psalter。 Here's the Bible； the testament； the Psalms in meter；
the sickman's salve； the treasure of gladness； and all in English； not so
much but the Almanac's English。
BISHOP。 Away with them； to the fire with them； Clun！ Now fie upon
these upstart heretics。 All English！ burn them； burn them quickly； Clun！
HARPOOLE。 But do not； Sumner； as you'll answer it； for I have there
English books； my lord； that I'll not part with for your Bishopric： Bevis
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of Hampton； Owlglass； the Friar and the Boy； Eleanor Rumming； Robin
hood； and other such godly stories； which if ye burn； by this flesh； I'll
make ye drink their ashes in Saint Marget's ale。
＇Exeunt。＇
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SCENE IV。 The entrance of the Tower。
＇Enter Bishop of Rochester with his men in livery coats。＇
FIRST SERVANT。 Is it your honor's pleasure we shall stay；