BISHOP.
Your husband is a dangerous schismatic,
Traitor to God, the King, and common wealth:
And therefore, master Croamer, shrieve of Kent,
I charge you take her to your custody,
And seize the goods of Sir John Old-castle
To the King’s use. Let her go in no more,
To fetch so much as her apparel out.
There is your warrant from his majesty.
LORD WARDEN.
Good my Lord Bishop, pacify your wrath
Against the Lady.
BISHOP.
Then let her confess
Where Old-castle her husband is concealed.
LORD WARDEN.
I dare engage mine honor and my life,
Poor gentlewoman, she is ignorant
And innocent of all his practises,
If any evil by him be practised.
BISHOP.
If, my Lord Warden? nay, then I charge you,
That all the cinque Ports, whereof you are chief,
Be laid forthwith, that he escape us not.
Shew him his highness’ warrant, Master Shrieve.
LORD WARDEN.
I am sorry for the noble gentleman—
[Enter Old-castle and Harpoole.]
BISHOP.
Peace, he comes here; now do your office.
COBHAM.
Harpoole, what business have we here in hand?
What makes the Bishop and the Sheriff here?
I fear my coming home is dangerous,
I would I had not made such haste to Cobham.
HARPOOLE. Be of good cheer, my Lord: if they be foes, we’ll scramble shrewdly with them: if they be friends, they are welcome. One of them (my Lord Warden) is your friend; but me thinks my lady weeps; I like not that.