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  • Title: The History of Sir John Oldcastle (Folio 3, 1664)
  • Editor: Michael Best

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Authors: Anonymous, Michael Drayton, Richard Hathway, Antony Munday, William Shakespeare, Robert Wilson
    Editor: Michael Best
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    The History of Sir John Oldcastle (Folio 3, 1664)


    the good Lord Cobham.
    37
    Many on both sides hurt: and for an hour
    The broil by no means could be pacified,
    Untill the Judges rising from the bench,
    480Were in their persons forc'd to part the fray.
    Cob. I hope no man was violently slain.
    Pow. Faith none I trust, but the Lord Herberts self,
    Who is in truth so dangerously hurt,
    As it is doubted he can hardly scape.
    485Cob. I am sorry, my good Lord, of these ill news.
    Pow. This is the cause that drives me into Kent,
    To shrowd my self with you so good a friend,
    Untill I hear how things do speed at home.
    Cob. Your Lordship is most welcome unto Cobham:
    490But 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 lye in wait
    To take the vantage of the smallest thing.
    495But you are welcome, and repose your Lordship,
    And keep your self here secret in my house,
    Untill we hear how the Lord Herbert speeds:
    Enter Harpool.
    Here comes my man: sirrah, what news?
    500Har. Yonder's one M. Butler of the privie Chamber,
    is sent unto you from the King.
    Pow. Pray God the Lord Herbert be not dead, and
    the King hearing whether I am gone, hath sent for me.
    Cob. Comfort your self, my Lord, I warrant you,
    505Har. Fellow, what ayls thee? do'st thou quake? do'st
    thou shake? do'st thou tremble? ha?
    Cob. Peace, you old fool: sirrah, convey this Gentleman
    in the back way, and bring the other into the walk.
    Har. Come, sir, y'are welcome, if you love my Lord.
    510Pow. Gramercy, gentle friend.
    Exeunt.
    Cob. I thought as much, that it would not be long before
    I heard of something from the King, about this matter.

    Enter Harpool with M. Butler.
    Har. Sir, yonder my Lord walks, you see him;
    515I'le have your men into the seller the while.
    Cob. Welcome, good M. Butler.
    But.Thanks, my good Lord: his Majesty doth com-
    mend his love unto your Lordship, and wills you to repair
    unto the Court.
    520Cob. God bless his Highness, and counfound his ene-
    mies, I hope his Majestie is well?
    But. In good health, my Lord.
    Cob. God long continue it: me thinks you look as
    though you were not well, what ayle ye, sir?
    525But. Faith I have had a foolish odde mischance, that
    angers me: coming over Shooters hill, there came one
    to me like a Sailor, and askt me money; and whilst I
    staid my horse to draw my purse, he takes th'advantage
    of a little bank, and leaps behind me, whips my purse a-
    530way, and with a sudden jerk, I know not how, threw me
    at least three yards out of my saddle; I never was so rob'd
    in all my life.
    Cob. I am very sorry, sir, for your mischance; we will
    send our warrant forth, to stay such suspitious persons
    535as shall be found, they M. Butler we'll attend you.
    But. I humbly thank your Lordship, I will att
    end you.

    Enter the Sumner.
    Sum. I have the Law to warrant what I do, and though
    the Lord Cobham be a Nobleman, that dispenses not with
    540Law, I dare serve a Process were he five Noble men,
    though we Sumners make sometimes a mad slip in a cor-
    ner with a pretty wench, a Sumner must not go alwaies
    by seeing: a man may be content to hide his eyes where
    he may feel his profit. Well, this is Lord Cobham's house,
    545if I cannot speak with him, I'le clap my citation upon's
    door, so my Lord of Rochester bad me; but me thinks
    here comes one of his men.
    Har. Welcome good fellow, welcome, who would'st
    thou speak with?
    550Sum. 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?
    555Har. I'le tell thee that, when I know thy errand,
    Sum. I will not tell my errand to thee.
    Har. Then keep it to thy self, and walk like a knave
    as thou camest.
    Sum. I'tell thee, my Lord keeps no knaves, sirrah.
    560Har. 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?
    565Sum. I come by vertue of a Process, to scite him to
    appear before my Lord in the Court at Rochester.
    Har. aside. Well, God grant me patience, I could eat
    this Counger. My Lord is not at home, therefore it
    were good Sumner, you carried your Process back.
    570Sum. Why, if he will not be spoken withall, then will
    I leave it here, and see that he take knowledge of it.
    Hnr. Zounds you slave, do you set up your bills here;
    go too, take it down again. Do'st thou know what thou
    do'st? Do'st thou know on whom thou servest a Process?
    575Sum. Yes marry do I, on Sir John Oldcastle, Lord
    Cobham.
    Har.I am glad thou knowest him yet; and sirrah,
    do'st not know that the Lord Cobham is a brave Lord,
    that keeps good Beef and Beer in his house, and every
    580day feeds a hundred poor people at's 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.
    585Har. 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,
    590dispatch, devour sirrah, devour.
    Sum. I am my Lord of Rochester's Sumner, I came to
    to do my office, and thou shalt answer it.
    Har.Sirrah, no railing; but betake your self to your
    teeth, thou shalt eat no worse then thou bring'st with thee,
    595thou bring'st it for my Lord, and wilt thou bring my
    Lord worse then thou wilt eat thy self?
    Sum. Sir, I brought it not my Lord to eat.
    Har. O do you sir me now; all's one for that, I'le
    make you eat it, for bringing it.
    600Sum. I cannot eat it.
    Har. Can you not? sbloud I'le beat you till you have
    a stomack.
    Beats him.
    Sum. O hold, hold, good M. Servingman, I will eat it.
    Har. Be champing, be chawing, sir, or I'le chaw you,
    605you rogue, the purest of the honey.
    Sum. Tough wax is the purest hony.
    A3[r]
    Har. O