The Life of Sir John Oldcastle [7]
Yes, marry.
HARPOOLE.
And this seal wax?
SUMNER.
It is so.
HARPOOLE.
If this be parchment, & this wax, eat you this
parchment and this wax, or I will make parchment
of your skin, and beat your brains into wax: Sirra
Sumner, dispatch; devour, sirra, devour.
SUMNER.
I am my lord of Rochester's Sumner; I came to do
my office, and thou shalt answer it.
HARPOOLE.
Sirra, no railing, but betake you to your teeth. Thou
shalt eat no worse than thou bringst with thee: thou
bringst it for my lord, and wilt thou bring my lord
worse than thou wilt eat thy self?
SUMNER.
Sirra, I brought it not my lord to eat.
HARPOOLE.
O, do you sir me now? all's one for that: but I'll make
you eat it, for bringing it.
SUMNER.
I cannot eat it.
HARPOOLE.
Can you not? sblood I'll beat you until you have a
stomach.
[He beats him.]
SUMNER.
O hold, hold, good master serving-man! I will eat it.
HARPOOLE.
Be champing, be chawing, sir; or I'll chaw you, you
rogue! the purest of the honey! Tough wax is the
purest of the honey.
SUMNER.
O Lord, sir! oh! oh!
[He eats.]
HARPOOLE.
Feed, feed! wholesome, rogue, wholesome! Cannot you,
like an honest Sumner, walk with the devil your brother,
to fetch in your Bailiffs' rents, but you must come to a
noble man's house with process? Sblood! if thy seal were
as broad as the lead that covers Rochester church, thou
shouldst eat it.
SUMNER.
O, I am almost choked! I am almost choked!
HARPOOLE.
Who's within there? will you shame my Lord? is there
no beer in the house? Butler! I say.
[Enter Butler.]
BUTLER.
Here, here.
HARPOOLE.
Give him Beer.
[He drinks.]
There; tough old sheepskin's bare, dry meat.
SUMNER.
O sir, let me go no further; I'll eat my word.
HARPOOLE.
Yea, marry, sit! so I mean: you shall eat more than your
own word, for I'll make you eat all the words in the process.
Why, you drab monger, cannot the secrets of all the wenches
in a shire serve your turn, but you must come hither with a
citation? with a pox! I'll cite you. [He has then done.] A
cup of sack for the Sumner.
BUTLER.
Here, sir, here.
HARPOOLE.
Here, slave, I drink to thee.
SUMNER.
I thank you, sir.
HARPOOLE.
Now if thou findst thy stomach well--because thou shalt
see my Lord keep's meat in's house--if thou wilt go in,
thou shalt have a piece of beef to the break fast.
SUMNER.
No, I am very well, good Master serving-man, I thank
you; very well sir.
HARPOOLE.
I am glad on't. Then be walking towards Rochester to keep
your stomach warm; and Sumner, if I may know you disturb
a good wench within this Diocese; if I do not make thee eat
her petticoat, if there were four yards of Kentish cloth in't,
I am a villain.
SUMNER.
God be with you, Master serving-man.
[Exit.]
HARPOOLE.
Farewell, Sumner.
[Enter Constable.]
CONSTABLE.
God save you Master Harpoole.
HARPOOLE.
Welcome, Constable, welcome, Constable; what news with thee?
CONSTABLE.
And't please you, Master Harpoole, I am to make hue and cry,
for a fellow with one eye that has robbed two Clothiers, and am
to crave your hindrance, for to search all suspected places; and
they say there was a woman in the company.
HARPOOLE.
Hast thou been at the Alehouse? hast thou sought there?
CONSTABLE.
I durst not search, sir, in my Lord Cobham's liberty, except I
had some of his servants, which are for my warrant.
HARPOOLE.
An honest Constable! an honest Constable! Call forth him
that keeps the Alehouse here.
CONSTABLE.
Ho! who's within there?
[Enter Ale-man.]
ALE MAN.
Who calls there? come near a God's name! Oh, is't you,
Master Constable and Master Harpoole? you are welcome
with all my heart. What make you here so early this morning?
HARPOOLE.
Sirra, what strangers do you lodge? there is a robbery done
this morning, and we are to search for all suspected persons.
ALE MAN.
God's bores! I am sorry for't: yfaith, sir, I lodge no body but
a good honest merry priest,--they call him sir John a Wrotham--