Puslapio vaizdai
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ACTI SCENE I.

Enter Sheriff, Lord Herbert, Lord Powis, Owen, Bailiff, Gough, and Davy.

M

SHERIFF.

Y Lords, I charge ye in his Highness Name to keep the Peace, you and your Follow

ers.

Her. Good Mafter Sheriff, look unto your felf.

Pow. Do fo, for we have other Bufinefs.

[Proffer to fight again. Sher. Will ye disturb the Judges, and the Affize?

Hear the King's Proclamation, ye were best.

Pow. Hold then let's hear it.

Her. But be brief, ye were beft.

Bail. O yes.

Davy. Coffone, make shorter O, or fhall mar your Yes.

Bail. O yes.

Owen.

Owen. What, has her nothing to fay, but O yes?
Bail. O Yes.

Davy. O nay, py cofs plut, down with her, down with her. A Powis, a Powis.

Gough. A Herbert, a Herbert, and down with Powis.
Helter skelter again.

Sher. Hold in the King's Name, hold.

Owen. Down with a Kanaves Name, down.

[In the fight the Bailiff is knock'd down, and the Sheriff
and the other run away.

Her. Powis, I think thy Welth and thou do fmart.
Pow. Herbert, I think my Sword came near thy Heart.
Her. Thy Heart's beft Blood fhall pay the lofs of mine.
Gough. A Herbet, a Herbet.

Davy. A Powis, a Powis.

As they are fighting, Enter the Mayor of Hereford, his
Officers and Townsmen with Clubs.

May. My Lords, as you are Liegemen to the Crown,
True Noblemen, and Subjects to the King,
Attend his Highness Proclamation.

Commanded by the Judges of Affize,

For keeping Peace at this Affembly.

Her. Good Mafter Mayor of Hereford, be brief, May. Serjeant, without the Ceremonies of O yes, Pronounce aloud the Proclamation.

Ser. The King's Juftices perceiving what publick Mifchief may enfue this private Quarrel; in his Majesty's Name, do ftraitly charge and command all Perfons, of what Degree foever, to depart this City of Hereford, except fuch as are bound to give attendance at this Affize, and that no Man prefume to wear any Weapon, especially Welfh-Hooks, Forest Bills.

Owen. Haw? No pill nor Wells hoog? ha?

May. Peace, and hear the Proclamation.

Ser. And that the Lord Powis do prefently difperfe and discharge his Retinue, and depart the City in the King's Peace, he and his Followers, on pain of Imprisonment. Davy. Haw? pud her Lord Powis in Prifon? A Powis, a Powis. Coffoon, her will live and tye with her Lord. Gough. A Herbert, a Herbert.

In this fight the Lord Herbert is wounded, and falls to the Ground, the Mayor and his Company cry for Clubs: Powis runs away, Gough and Herbert's Faction are busie about him. Enter the two Judges, the Sheriff and his Bailiffs afore them, &c.

1 Judge. Where's the Lord Herbert? Is he hurt or flain? Sher. He's here, my Lord.

2 Judge. How fares his Lordship, Friends?

Gough. Mortally wounded, fpeechlefs, he cannot live.
I Judge. Convey him hence, let not his Wounds take
Air,

And get him dreft with Expedition.

[Exit L. Herbert and Gough.

Mafter Mayor of Hereford, Mafter Sheriff o'th' Shire,
Commit Lord Powis to fife Cuftody,

To answer the difturbance of the Peace,

Lord Herbert's Peril, and his high contempt

Of us, and you the King's Commiffioners,

See it be done with Care and Diligence,

Sher. Please it your Lordship, my Lord Powis is gone

past all recovery.

2 Fudge. Yet let fearch be made,

To apprehend his Followers that are left.

Sher. There are fome of them: Sirs, lay hold of them. Owen. Of us? and why? what has her done, I pray. you?

Sher. Difarm them, Bailiffs.

May. Officers affift.

Davy. Here you, Lord Shudge, what reffon for this? Owen. Coffoon, pe-pufe for fighting for our Lord ? 1 Judge. Away with them.

Davy. Harg you, my Lord.

Owen. Gough my Lord Herbert's Man's a fhitten Kanave. Davy. Ice live and tye in good Quarrel.

Owen. Pray you do fhuftice, let awl be Prison.

Davy. Prifon, no,

Lord Shudge, I wool give you Pale, good Surety.

VOL. VI.

A a

2 Fudge

2 Judge. What Bail? what Sureties!

Davy. Her Cozen ap Rice, ap Evan, ap Morice, ap Mor gan, ap Lluellyn, ap Madoos ap Meredith, ap Griffin, ap Davy, ap Owen, ap Shinken Shones.

2 Judge. Two of the moft fufficient are enow.

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Sher. And't please your Lordship these are all but one. I Judge. To Goal with them, and the Lord Herbert's Men.

We'll talk with them, when the Affize is done. [Exeunt.
Riotous, audacious, and unruly Grooms,

Muft we be forc'd to come from the Bench,
To quiet Brawls, which every Conftable
In other civil Places can fupprefs?

2 Judge. What was the quarrel that caus'd all this ftir?
Sher. About Religion, as I heard, my Lord.
Lord Powis's detracted from the Pow'r of Rome,
Affirming Wickliff's Doctrine to be true,

And Rome's Erroneous: Hot reply was made
By the Lord Herbert, they were Traitors all
That would maintain it. Powis anfwer'd,
They were as true, as noble, and as wife
As he, that would defend it with their Lives,
He nam'd for inftance Sir John Oldcastle
The Lord Cobham: Herbert reply'd again,
He, thou and all are Traitors that fo hold.
The Lie was giv'n, the several Factions drawn,
And fo enrag'd, that we could not appease it.

I Judge. This cafe concerns the King's Prerogative, And 'tis dangerous to the State and Commonwealth. Gentlemen, Juftices, Mafter Mayor, and Master Sheriff, It doth behove us all, and each of us

In general and particular, to have care,
For the fuppreffing of all Mutinies,

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And all Affemblies, except Soldiers Mufters,
For the King's Preparation into France.
We hear of fecret Conventicles made,
And there is doubt of fome Confpiracies,
Which may break out into rebellious Arms
When the King's gone, perchance before he go:
Note as an inftance, this one perillous Fray,

What

What Factions might have grown on either part,
To the deftruction of the King and Realm:
Yet, in my Confcience, Sir John Oldcastle's
Innocent of it, only his Name was us'd.
We therefore from his Highness give this charge:
You Mafter Mayor, look to your Citizens,
You Mafter Sheriff, unto your Shire, and you
As Juftices in every ones Precinc

There be no Meetings. When the vulgar Sort
Sit on their Ale-Bench, with their Cups and Cans,
Matters of State be not their common talk,
Nor pure Religion by their Lips prophan'd.
And there examine further of this Fray.

Enter a Bailiff and a Serjeant.

Sher. Sirs, have ye taken the Lord Powis yet?
Bail. No, nor heard of him.

Ser. No, he's gone far enough.

2 Judge. They that are left behind, shall answer all.

[Exeunt

Enter the Duke of Suffolk, Bishop of Rochester, Master Butler, Sir John the Parfon of Wrotham.

Suf. Now, my Lord Bishop, take free Liberty To speak your Mind; what is your Suit to us? Roch. My noble Lord, no more than what you know,

And have been oftentimes invefted with:

Grievous Complaints have paft between the Lips
Of envious Perfons to upbraid the Clergy,
Some carping at the Livings which we have;
And others fpurning at the Ceremonies
That are of ancient Custom in the Church.
Amongst the which, Lord Cobham is a Chief:
What Inconvenience may proceed hereof,
Both to the King, and to the Commonwealth,
May eafily be difcern'd, when like a frenfie
This Innovation fhall poffefs their Minds.
Thefe Upftarts will have Followers to uphold
Their damn'd Opinion, more than Harry fhall,
To undergo his quarrel 'gainft the French.
Suf. What proof is there against them to be had,
That what you fay the Law may juftifie?
A a 2

Roche

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