GOUGH.
A Herbert! a Herbert!
[In this fight the Lord Herbert is wounded, and falls to the ground; the Mayor and his company go away, crying clubs; Powesse runs away; Gough and other of Herbert’s faction busy themselves about Herbert; enter the two Judges in their robes, the Sheriff and his Bailiffs afore them, &c.]
FIRST JUDGE.
Where’s the Lord Herbert? is he hurt or slain?
SHERIFF.
He’s here, my Lord.
SECOND JUDGE.
How fares his Lordship, friends?
GOUGH.
Mortally wounded, speechless; he cannot live.
FIRST JUDGE.
Convey him hence; let not his wounds take air,
And get him dressed with expedition.
[Ex. Herbert & Gough.]
Master Mayor of Hereford, Master Shrieve o’ the shire,
Commit Lord Powesse to safe custody,
To answer the disturbance of the peace,
Lord Herbert’s peril, and his high contempt
Of us, and you the King’s commissioners.
See it be done with care and diligence.
SHERIFF.
Please it your Lordship, my Lord Powesse is gone
Past all recovery.