The Life of Sir John Oldcastle [25]
And fittest for our purpose to dispatch him.
GRAY.
But yet there may be doubt in their delivery.
Harry is wise; therefore, Earl of Cambridge,
I judge that way not so convenient.
SCROOP.
What think ye then of this? I am his bedfellow,
And unsuspected nightly sleep with him.
What if I venture in those silent hours,
When sleep hath sealed up all mortal eyes,
To murder him in bed? how like ye that?
CAMBRIDGE.
Herein consists no safety for your self,
And, you disclosed, what shall become of us?
But this day (as ye know) he will aboard--
The winds so fair--and set away for France.
If, as he goes, or entering in the ship,
It might be done, then it were excellent.
GRAY.
Why any of these, or, if you will, I'll cause
A present sitting of the Counsel, wherein
I will pretend some matter of such weight
As needs must have his royal company,
And so dispatch him in the Counsel chamber.
CAMBRIDGE.
Tush, yet I hear not any thing to purpose.
I wonder that lord Cobham stays so long;
His counsel in this case would much avail us.
[They rise from the table, and the King steps in
to them, with his Lords.]
SCROOP.
What, shall we rise thus, and determine nothing?
KING.
That were a shame indeed; no, sit again,
And you shall have my counsel in this case.
If you can find no way to kill this King,
Then you shall see how I can further ye:
Scroop's way of poison was indifferent,
But yet, being bed-fellow unto the King,
And unsuspected sleeping in his bosom,
In mine opinion, that's the likelier way,
For such false friends are able to do much,
And silent night is Treason's fittest friend.
Now, Cambridge, in his setting hence for France,
Or by the way, or as he goes abroad,
To do the deed, what was indifferent too,
Yet somewhat doubtful, might I speak my mind.
For many reasons needless now to urge.
Mary, Lord Gray came something near the point:
To have the King at counsel, and there murder him,
As Caesar was, amongst his dearest friends:
None like to that, if all were of his mind.
Tell me, oh tell me, you, bright honor's stains,
For which of all my kindnesses to you,
Are ye become thus traitors to your king,
And France must have the spoil of harry's life?
ALL.
Oh pardon us, dread lord.
[All kneeling.]
KING.
How, pardon ye? that were a sin indeed.
Drag them to death, which justly they deserve,
[They lead them away.]
And France shall dearly buy this villainy,
So soon as we set footing on her breast.
God have the praise for our deliverance;
And next, our thanks, Lord Cobham, is to thee,
True perfect mirror of nobility.
[Exeunt.]
ACT V. SCENE II. A high road near St. Albans.
[Enter Priest and Doll.]
SIR JOHN.
Come, Doll, come; be merry, wench.
Farewell, Kent, we are not fond for thee.
Be lusty, my lass, come, for Lancashire,
We must nip the Boung for these crowns.
DOLL.
Why, is all the gold spent already that you had the
other day?
SIR JOHN.
Gone, Doll, gone; flown, spent, vanished: the devil,
drink and the dice has devoured all.
DOLL.
You might have left me in Kent, that you might, until
you had been better provided, I could have stayed at
Cobham.
SIR JOHN.
No, Doll, no, I'll none of that; Kent's too hot, Doll,
Kent's too hot. The weathercock of Wrotham will
crow no longer: we have pluckt him, he has lost
his feathers; I have pruned him bare, left him thrice;
is moulted, is moulted, wench.
DOLL.
Faith, sir John, I might have gone to service again;
old master Harpoole told me he would provide me a
mistress.
SIR JOHN.
Peace, Doll, peace. Come, mad wench, I'll make thee
an honest woman; we'll into Lancashire to our friends:
the troth is, I'll marry thee. We want but a little money
to buy us a horse, and to spend by the way; the next
sheep that comes shall lose his fleece, we'll have these
crowns, wench, I warrant thee.
[Enter the Irish man with his master slain.]
Stay, who comes here? some Irish villain, me thinks,
that has slain a man, and draws him out of the way to
rifle him. Stand close, Doll,