KING. God else forbid: why, Suffolk, is there Any new rupture to disquiet them?
SUFFOLK. 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.
KING. 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.
BISHOP. But in his name the quarrel did begin, About the opinion which he held, my liege.
KING. How if it did? was either he in place, To take part with them, or abet them in it? If brabling fellows, whose inkindled blood, Seethes in their fiery veins, will needs go fight, Making their quarrels of some words that past Either of you, or you, amongst their cups, Is the fault yours, or are they guilty of it?
SUFFOLK. With pardon of your Highness, my dread lord, Such little sparks, neglected, may in time Grow to a might flame: but that's not all; He doth, beside, maintain a strange religion, And will not be compelled to come to mass.
BISHOP. We do beseech you, therefore, gracious prince, Without offence unto your majesty, We may be bold to use authority.
KING. As how?
BISHOP. To summon him unto the Arches, Where such offences have their punishment.
KING. To answer personally? is that your meaning?
BISHOP. It is, my lord.
KING. How, if he appeal?
BISHOP. He cannot, my Lord, in such a case as this.
SUFFOLK. Not where Religion is the plea, my lord.
KING. I took it always, that our self stood out, As a sufficient refuge, unto whom Not any but might lawfully appeal. But we'll not argue now upon that point. For Sir John Old-castle, whom you accuse, Let me entreat you to dispence awhile With your high title of pre-eminence.
[In scorn.]
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.]
SIR JOHN. How now, my lord, why stand you discontent? In sooth, me thinks the King hath well decreed.
BISHOP. Yea, yea, 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.
SIR JOHN. Why, then, I'll tell you what y'are bets 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 't, howsoe'er it fall.
BISHOP. And well remembered! I will have it so. A Sumner shall be sent about it straight.
[Exit.]
SIR JOHN. Yea, do so. In the mean space this remains For kind sir John of Wrotham, honest Jack. Me thinks the purse of gold the Bishop gave Made a good show; it had a tempting look. Beshrew me, but my fingers' ends to itch To be upon those rudduks. Well, tis thus: I am not as the world does take me for; If ever wolf were clothed in sheep's coat, Then I am he,--old huddle and twang, yfaith, 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 be spared, 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 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.