[Enter Harpoole with Master Butler.]
HARPOOLE. Sir, yonder my lord walks, you see him; I'll have your men into the Cellar the while.
COBHAM. 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.
COBHAM. God bless his Highness, and confound his enemies! I hope his Majesty is well.
BUTLER. In health, my lord.
COBHAM. God long continue it! Me thinks 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 stayed my horse To draw my purse, he takes th' 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.
COBHAM. 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.
ACT II. SCENE I. The same.
[Enter the Sumner.]
SUMNER. 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 Sumners make sometimes a mad slip in a corner with a pretty wench, a Sumner 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 Cobham's house if I can devise to speak with him; if not, I'll clap my citation upon's door: so my lord of Rochester bid me. But me thinks here comes one of his men.
[Enter Harpoole.]
HARPOOLE. Welcome, good fellow, welcome; who wouldst thou speak with?
SUMNER. With my lord Cobham I would speak, if thou be one of his men.
HARPOOLE. Yes, I am one of his men, but thou canst not speak with my lord.
SUMNER. May I send to him then?
HARPOOLE. I'll tell thee that, when I know thy errand.
SUMNER. I will not tell my errand to thee.
HARPOOLE. Then keep it to thy self, and walk like a knave as thou camest.
SUMNER. I tell thee, my lord keeps no knaves, sirra.
HARPOOLE. Then thou servest him not, I believe: what lord is thy master?
SUMNER My lord of Rochester.
HARPOOLE. In good time! And what wouldst thou have with my lord Cobham?
SUMNER. I come, by virtue of a process, to ascite him to appear before my lord in the court at Rochester.
HARPOOLE. [Aside.] Well, God grant me patience! I could eat this conger. My lord is not at home; therefore it were good, Sumner, you carried your process back.
SUMNER. Why, if he will not be spoken withal, then will I leave it here; and see you that he take knowledge of it.
HARPOOLE. Swounds, you slave, do you set up your bills here! go to; take it down again. Doest thou know what thou dost? Dost thou know on whom thou servest process?
SUMNER. Yes, marry, do I; Sir John Old-castle, Lord Cobham.
HARPOOLE. I am glad thou knowest him yet: and, sirra, 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's gate, and keeps a hundred tall fellows?
SUMNER. What's that to my process?
HARPOOLE. Marry, this, sir! is this process parchment?
SUMNER. Yes, marry.
HARPOOLE. And this seal wax?
SUMNER. It is so.
HARPOOLE. If this be parchment, & this wax, eat you this parchment and this wax, or I will make parchment of your skin, and beat your brains into wax: Sirra Sumner, dispatch; devour, sirra, devour.
SUMNER. I am my lord of Rochester's Sumner; I came to do my office, and thou shalt answer it.
HARPOOLE. Sirra, no railing, but betake you to your teeth. Thou shalt eat no worse than thou bringst with thee: thou bringst it for my lord, and wilt thou bring my lord worse than thou wilt eat thy self?
SUMNER. Sirra, I brought it not my lord to eat.