And cleanse his soul to God for his offence.
What we remit, is but the body’s scourge—
[Enter Bishop.]
How now, Lord Bishop?
BISHOP.
Justice, dread Sovereign!
As thou art King, so grant I may have justice.
KING.
What means this exclamation? let us know.
BISHOP.
Ah, my good Lord, the state’s abused,
And our decrees most shamefully profaned.
KING.
How? or by whom?
BISHOP.
Even by this heretic,
This Jew, this Traitor to your majesty.
COBHAM.
Prelate, thou liest, even in thy greasy maw,
Or whosoever twits me with the name
Of either traitor, or of heretic.
KING. Forbear, I say: and, Bishop, shew the cause >From whence this late abuse hath been derived.