SHREWSBURY. My lord, our catours shall not use the market For our provision, but some stranger now Will take the vittailes from him he hath bought: A carpenter, as I was late informed, Who having bought a pair of doves in Cheap, Immediately a Frenchman took them from him, And beat the poor man for resisting him; And when the fellow did complain his wrongs, He was severely punished for his labor.
SURREY. But if the English blood be once but up, As I perceive their hearts already full, I fear me much, before their spleens be cold, Some of these saucy aliens for their pride Will pay for 't soundly, wheresoere it lights: This tide of rage that with the eddy strives, I fear me much, will drown too many lives.
CHOLMLEY. Now, afore God, your honors, pardon me: Men of your place and greatness are to blame. I tell ye true, my lords, in that his majesty Is not informed of this base abuse And daily wrongs are offered to his subjects; For, if he were, I know his gracious wisdom Would soon redress it.
[Enter a Messenger.]
SHREWSBURY. Sirrah, what news?
CHOLMLEY. None good, I fear.
MESSENGER. My lord, ill news; and worse, I fear, will follow, If speedily it be not looked unto: The city is in an uproar, and the Mayor Is threatened, if he come out of his house. A number poor artificers are up In arms and threaten to avenge their wrongs.
CHOLMLEY. We feared what this would come unto: This follows on the doctors publishing The bill of wrongs in public at the Spittle.
SHREWSBURY. That Doctor Beale may chance beshrew himself For reading of the bill.
PALMER. Let us go gather forces to the Mayor, For quick suppressing this rebellious route.
SURREY. Now I bethink myself of Master More, One of the sheriffs, a wise and learned gentleman, And in especial favour with the people: He, backed with other grave and sober men, May by his gentle and persuasive speech Perhaps prevail more than we can with power.
SHREWSBURY. Believe me, but your honor well advises: Let us make haste; for I do greatly fear Some of their graves this morning's work will bear.
[Exeunt.]
ACT II.
SCENE I. Cheapside.
[Enter three or four Apprentices of trades, with a pair of cudgels.]
HARRY. Come, lay down the cudgels. Ho, Robin, you met us well at Bunhill, to have you with us a Maying this morning.
ROBIN. Faith, Harry, the head drawer at the Miter by the great Conduit called me up, and we went to breakfast into St. Anne lane. But come, who begins? in good faith, I am clean out of practise. When wast at Garrets school, Harry?
HARRY. Not this great while, never since I brake his ushers head, when he played his scholars prize at the Star in Bread-street. I use all to George Philpots at Dowgate; he's the best backswordman in England.
KIT. Bate me an ace of that, quoth Bolton.
HARRY. I'll not bate ye a pin on 't, sir; for, by this cudgel, tis true.
KIT. I will cudgel that opinion out of ye: did you break an ushers head, sir?
HARRY. Aye, marry, did I, sir.
KIT. I am very glad on 't: you shall break mine too, and ye can.
HARRY. Sirrah, I prithee, what art thou?
KIT. Why, I am a prentice as thou art; seest thou now? I'll play with thee at blunt here in Cheapside, and when thou hast done, if thou beest angry, I'll fight with thee at sharp in Moore fields. I have a sword to serve my turn in a favor. . . . come Julie, to serve . . . .
SCENE II. Saint Martins-le-Grand.
[Enter Lincoln, two Bettses, Williamson, Sherwin, and other, armed; Doll in a shirt of mail, a headpiece, sword, and buckler; a crew attending.]
CLOWN. Come, come; we'll tickle their turnips, we'll butter their boxes. Shall strangers rule the roost? yes; but we'll baste the roost. Come, come; a flaunt, a flaunt!
GEORGE. Brother, give place, and hear John Lincoln speak.
CLOWN. Aye, Lincoln my leader, And Doll my true breeder, With the rest of our crew, Shall ran tan tarra ran; Do all they what they can. Shall we be bobbed, braved? no: Shall we be held under? no; We are freeborne, And do take scorn To be used so.