COBHAM.
No more, I say; peace, lest he should suspect it.
BISHOP. Sir John, I am come unto you from the lords of his highness’ most honorable counsel, to know if yet you do recant your errors, conforming you unto the holy church.
COBHAM.
My lord of Rochester, on good advise,
I see my error, but yet, understand me,
I mean not error in the faith I hold,
But error in submitting to your pleasure;
Therefore, your lordship, without more to do,
Must be a means to help me to escape.
BISHOP.
What means, thou heretic?
Darst thou but lift thy hand against my calling?
COBHAM.
No, not to hurt you for a thousand pound.
HARPOOLE. Nothing but to borrow your upper garments a little; not a word more, for if you do, you die: peace, for waking the children. There; put them on; dispatch, my lord. The window that goes out into the leads is sure enough, I told you that before: there, make you ready; I’ll convey him after, and bind him surely in the inner room.
[Carries the bishop into the Tower, and returns.]
COBHAM.
This is well begun; God send us happy speed,
Hard shift you see men make in time of need, Harpoole.
[Puts on the bishop’s cloak.]
HARPOOLE.
Here my Lord; come, come away.