BISHOP.
Thus, mighty King:—By general consent,
A messenger was sent to cite this Lord,
To make appearance in the consistory;
And coming to his house, a ruffian slave,
One of his daily followers, met the man,
Who, knowing him to be a parroter,
Assaults him first and after, in contempt
Of us and our proceedings, makes him cate
The written process, parchment, scale and all:
Whereby his master neither was brought forth,
Nor we but scorned for our authority.
KING.
When was this done?
BISHOP.
At six a clock this morning.
KING.
And when came you to court?
COBHAM.
Last night, my Lord.
KING.
By this it seems, he is not guilty of it,
And you have done him wrong t’accuse him so.
BISHOP.
But it was done, my lord, by his appointment,
Or else his man durst ne’er have been so bold.
KING.
Or else you durst be bold to interrupt,
And fill our ears with frivolous complaints.
Is this the duty you do bear to us?
Was’t not sufficient we did pass our word
To send for him, but you, misdoubting it,
Or—which is worse—intending to forestall
Our regal power, must likewise summon him?
This savors of Ambition, not of zeal,
And rather proves you malice his estate,
Than any way that he offends the law.
Go to, we like it not; and he your officer,
That was employed so much amiss herein,
Had his desert for being insolent.
[Enter Huntington.]
So, Cobham, when you please you may depart.