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?