This service is brought to you today by:
deck balusters /
mud flaps /
power slider /
injection molded plastic part /
ford truck /
bushwacker /
agr power steering /
federal contract dispute /
Ford Truck Fan / Public Safety Equipment
The True and Honorable History of the Life of Sir John Oldcastle, the Good Lord Cobham. Page: 12
POWIS.
Faith, none, I trust, but the lord Herbert's self,
Who is in truth so dangerously hurt,
As it is doubted he can hardly scape.
COBHAM.
I am sorry, my good lord, of these ill news.
POWIS.
This is the cause that drives me into Kent,
To shroud my self with you, so good a friend,
Until I hear how things do speed at home.
COBHAM.
Your lordship is most welcome unto Cobham;
But I am very sorry, my good lord,
My name was brought in question in this matter,
Considering I have many enemies,
That threaten malice, and do lie in wait
To take advantage of the smallest thing.
But you are welcome: and repose your lordship,
And keep your self here secret in my house,
Until we hear how the lord Herbert speeds.
Here comes my man.
[Enter Harpoole.]
Sirra, what news?
HARPOOLE.
Yonder's one master Butler of the privy chamber,
is sent unto you from the King.
POWIS.
I pray God the lord Herbert be not dead,
And the King, hearing whither I am gone,
Hath sent for me.
COBHAM.
Comfort your self my lord, I warrant you.
HARPOOLE.
Fellow, what ails thee? doost thou quake? dost thou
shake? dost thou tremble? ha?
COBHAM.
Peace, you old fool! Sirra, convey this gentleman
in the back way, and bring the other into the walk.
HARPOOLE.
Come, sir; you are welcome, if you love my lord.
POWIS.
God have mercy, gentle friend.
[Exeunt.]
COBHAM.
I thought as much: that it would not be long,
Before I heard of something from the King
About this matter.
[Enter Harpoole with Master Butler.]
HARPOOLE.
Sir, yonder my lord walks, you see him;
I'll have your men into the Cellar the while.
COBHAM.
Welcome, good master Butler.
BUTLER.
Thanks, my good lord: his Majesty doth commend
His love unto your lordship,
And wills you to repair unto the court.
COBHAM.
God bless his Highness, and confound his enemies!
I hope his Majesty is well.
BUTLER.
In health, my lord.
COBHAM.
God long continue it! Me thinks you look
As though you were not well: what ails you, sir?
BUTLER.
Faith, I have had a foolish odd mischance,
|