CAMBRIDGE. Why so, lord Cobham? See you not our claim? And how imperiously he holds the crown?
SCROOP. Besides, you know your self 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.
COBHAM. 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 the men? where's power and furniture To order such an action? We are weak; Harry, you know's a mighty potentate.
CAMBRIDGE. Tut, we are strong enough: you are beloved, And many will be glad to follow you; We are the like, and some will follow us. Besides, there is hope from France: here's an ambassador That promiseth both men and money too. The commons likewise (as we hear) pretend A sudden tumult; we will join with them.
COBHAM. 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 Scroop, whom oftentimes He maketh choice of for his bedfellow; And you, lord Gray, are of his privy counsel: Is not this a train to entrap my life?
CAMBRIDGE. Then perish may my soul! What, think you so?
SCROOP. We'll swear to you.
GRAY. Or take the sacrament.
COBHAM. Nay, you are noble men, and I imagine, As you are honorable 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.
CAMBRIDGE. With all our hearts. Who hath any pen and ink?
SCROOP. My pocket should have one: yea, here it is.
CAMBRIDGE. Give it me, lord Scroop.--There is my name.
SCROOP. And there is my name.
GRAY. And mine.
COBHAM. Sir, let me crave, That you would likewise write your name with theirs, For confirmation of your master's word, The king of France.
CHARTRES. That will I, noble Lord.
COBHAM. So now this action is well knit together, And I am for you. Where's our meeting, lords?
CAMBRIDGE. Here, if you please, the tenth of July next.
COBHAM. In Kent? agreed: now let us in to supper. I hope your honors will not away to night.
CAMBRIDGE. Yes, presently; for I have far to ride, About soliciting of other friends.
SCROOP. And we would not be absent from the court, Lest thereby grow suspicion in the king.
COBHAM. Yet taste a cup of wine before ye go.
CAMBRIDGE. Not now, my lord, we thank you: so farewell.
[Exeunt all but Cobham.]
COBHAM. 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'll 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 COBHAM. You are welcome home, my Lord. Why seem ye so disquiet in your looks? What hath befallen you that disquiets your mind?
LADY POWIS. Bad news, I am afraid, touching my husband.
COBHAM. Madam, not so: there is your husband's pardon. Long may ye live, each joy unto the other.
POWIS. So great a kindness as i know not how To make reply; my sense is quite confounded.
COBHAM. 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 COBHAM. 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 Powis, bear with me, And madam, think your welcome ne'er the worse: My house is at your use. Harpoole, away.
HARPOOLE. Shall I attend your lordship to the court?
COBHAM. Yes, sir; your gelding! mount you presently.
[Exeunt.]
LADY COBHAM. I prithee, Harpoole, look unto thy Lord. I do not like this sudden posting back.