864King. 'Tis not enough, Lord Cobham, to submit,

865You must forsake your grosse opinion;

866The Bishops find themselves much injured,

867And though for some good service you have done,

868We for our part are pleas'd to pardon you,

869Yet they will not so soon be satisfied.

870Cob. My gracious L rd, unto your Majesty,

871Next unto my God, I owe my life;

872And what is mine, either by Natures gift,

873Or fortunes bounty, all is at your service.

874But for obedience to the Pope of Rome,

875I ow him none; nor shall his shaveling Priests

876That are in England, alter my belief.

877If out of holy Scripture they can prove

878That I am in an error, I will yield,

879And gladly take instruction at their hands:

880But otherwise, I do beseech your Grace,

881My conscience may not be incroach'd upon.

882King. We would be loath to press our subjects bodies.

883Much lesse their souls, the deer redeemed part

884Of him that is the Ruler of us all:

885Yet let me counsel you, that might command;

886Do not presume to tempt them with ill words,

887Nor suffer any meetings to be had

888Within your house, but to the uttermost

889Disperse the flocks of this new gathering sect.

890Cob. My Liege, if any breath that dares come forth,

891And say, my life in any of these points

892Deserves th'attainder of ignoble thoughts:

893Here stand I, craving no remorse at all,

894But even the utmost rigour may be shown.

895King. Let it suffice we know your loyalty,

896What have you there?

897Cob. A Deed of clemency,

898Your highnesse pardon for Lord Powess life,

899Which I did beg, and you my Noble Lord,

900Of gracious favour did vouchsafe to grant.

901King. But yet it is not signed with our hand.

902Cob. Not yet, my Liege.

903King. The fact you say was done

904Not of pretensed malice, but by chance.

906King. There is his pardon, bid him make amends,

907And cleanse his soul to God for his offence,

908What we remit, is but the bodies scourge.

910Bish. Justice dread Soveraigne,

911As thou art King, so grant I may have Justice.

912King. What means this exclamation? Let us know.

913Bish. Ah, my good Lord, the State's abus'd,

914And our Decrees most shamefully prophan'd.

915King. How? Or by whom?

916Bish. Even by this Heretick,

917This Jew, this Traitor to your Majesty.

918Cob. Prelate, thou lyest, even in thy greasie maw,

919Or whosoever twit's me with the name

920Of either Traitor, or of Heretick.

921King. Forbear I say: and Bishop, shew the cause

922From whence this late abuse hath been deriv'd.

923Bish. Thus mighty King: by general consent

924A messenger was sent to scite this Lord

925To make appearance in the Consistory:

926And coming to his house, a Ruffian slave,

927One of his daily followers, met the man,

928Who knowing him to be a Parator

929Assaults him first, and after in contempt

930Of us, and our proceedings, makes him eat

931The written Process, parchment, Seal and all:

932Whereby this matter neither was brought forth,

933Nor we but scorn'd for our authority.

934King. When was this done?

935Bish. At six a clock this morning.

936King. And when came you to Court?

937Cob. Last night, my Liege.

938King. By this it seems he is not guilty of it,

939And you have done him wrong t'accuse him so.

940Bish. But it was done, my Lord, by his appointment,

941Or else his man durst not have been so bold.

942King. Or else you durst be bold ot interrupt

943And fill our ears with frivolous complaints.

944Is this the duty you do bear to us?

945Was't not sufficient we did Passe our word

946To send for him, but you misdoubting it,

947Or which is worse, intending to forestall

948Our Regal power, must likewise summon him?

949This savours of Ambition, not of zeal,

950And rather proves you malice his estate,

951Then any way that he offends the Law.

952Go too, we like it not: and he your Officer

953Had his desert for being insolent,

955That was imployed so much amisse herein.

956So Cobham when you please, you may depart.

958King. Farewell: what's the news by Huntington?

959Hun. Sir Roger Acton, and a crew (my Lord)

960Of bold sedetious Rebells, are in Armes,

961Intending reformation of Religion.

962And with their Army they intend to pitch

963In Ficket field, unlesse they be repuls't.

964King. So near our presence? Dare they be so bold?

965And will proud War and eager thirst of bloud,

966Whom we had thought to entertain far off,

967Press forth upon us in our Native bounds?

968Must we be forc'd to hansel our sharp blades

969In England here, which we prepar'd for France?

970Well, a Gods name be it. What's their Number? say,

971Or who's the chief Commander of this Rowt?

972Hun. Their number is not known, as yet my Lord,

973But 'tis reported, Sir John Oldcastle

974Is the chief man, on whom they do depend.

975 King.How? the Lord Cobham?

976Hun. Yes, my gracious Lord.

977Bish. I could have told your Majesty as much

978Before he went, but that I saw your Grace

979Was too much blinded by his flattery.

980Suf. Send post, my Lord, to fetch him back again.

981But. Traitor unto his Country, how he smooth'd

982And seem'd as innocent as Truth it self?

983King. I cannot think it yet he would be false:

984But if he be, no matter, let him go,

985We'll meet both him and them unto their woe.

986Bish. This falls out well, and at the last I hope