The True and Honorable History of the Life of Sir John Oldcastle, the Good Lord Cobham.
Page: 16

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--
and a handsome woman that is his niece, that he says he has
some suit in law for; and as they go up & down to London,
sometimes they lie at my house.

HARPOOLE.
What, is he here in thy house now?

ALE MAN.
She is, sir. I promise you, sir, he is a quiet man; and because
he will not trouble too many rooms, he makes the woman lie
every night at his bed's feet.

HARPOOLE.
Bring her forth! Constable, bring her forth! let's see her, let's
see her.

ALE MAN.
Dorothy, you must come down to Master Constable.


DOLL.
Anon, forsooth.

[She enters.]

HARPOOLE.
Welcome, sweet lass, welcome.

DOLL.
I thank you, good Master serving-man, and master
Constable also.

HARPOOLE.
A plump girl by the mass, a plump girl! Ha, Doll, ha!
Wilt thou forsake the priest, and go with me?

CONSTABLE.
A! well said, Master Harpoole; you are a merry old man,
yfaith. Yfaith, you will never be old. Now, by the mack,
a pretty wench indeed!

HARPOOLE.
Ye old mad merry Constable, art thou advised of that. Ha,
well said, Doll! fill some ale here.

DOLL.
[Aside.] Oh, if I wist this old priest would not stick to me,
by Jove, I would ingle this old serving-man.

HARPOOLE.
Oh you old mad colt! yfaith, I'll feak you! fill all the pots in
the house there.

CONSTABLE.
Oh, well said, Master Harpoole! you are heart of oak when
all's done.

HARPOOLE.
Ha, Doll, thou hast a sweet pair of lips, by the mass.