Sir Thomas More | Page 8

our wives in quiet, And yet
leave us in, to discharge their diet.
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.
DOLL. Peace there, I say! hear Captain Lincoln speak; keep silence, till
we know his mind at large.
CLOWN. Then largely deliver; speak, bully: and he that presumes to
interrupt thee in thy oration, this for him.
LINCOLN. Then, gallant bloods, you whose free souls do scorn To
bear the