  Collector, Jack Straw. Coll. Now such a murmuring to rise, upon so trifling a thing, In all my life never saw I before: And yet I have been officer this seven year and more. The Tiler and his wife are in a great rage, Affirming their daughter to be under age. J. S. Art thou the collector of the king's task? Coll. I am, Jack Straw; J. S. Because thou goest beyond the commission of the king; We grant to his highness pleasure in everything. Thou hast thy task-money for all that be here, My daughter is not fourteen years old, therefore she goes clear. Coll. And because thou sayest so, I should believe thee? J. S. Choose whether thou wilt or no, thou gettest no more of me; For I am sure thy office doth not arm thee with such authority, Thus to abuse the poor people of the country. But chiefest of all, vile villain as thou art, To play so unmanly and beastly a part, As to search my daughter thus in my presence! Coll. Why, base villain, wilt thou teach me what to do? Wilt thou prescribe me mine office, and what belongs thereto? [Offers to strike him. J. S. What, villain, dost strike me? I swear by the rood, As I am Jack Straw, thou shalt buy it with thy blood. There lie, and be well paid for thy pain. [Throws him on the ground. Coll. O help, help, the king's officer is slain! [Dies.
W. T. How now, Jack Straw, doth anybody abuse thee? J. S. Alas, Wat! I have killed the king's officer in striking rashly. T. M. A small matter to recover a man that is slain: Blow wind in his tail, and fetch him again? Par. Content thee, 'tis no matter, and Jack Straw, God-a-mercy, Herein thou hast done good service to thy country: Were all inhuman slaves so served as he, England would be civil, and from all such dealings free. Nobs. By Gog's blood, my master, we will not put up this so quietly; We owe God a death, and we can but die: And though the fairest end of a rebel is the gallows, Yet, if you will be ruled by me, We'll so deal of ourselves as we'll revenge this villainy. J. S. The king, God wot, knows not what's done by But we'll make him know it, if you will be ruled by me. Here's Parson Ball, an honest priest, and tells us that in charity We may stick together in such quarrels honestly. T. M. What, is he an honest man? The devil he is! he is the parson of the town; You think there's no knavery hid under a black gown? Find him in a pulpit but twice in the year, And I'll find him forty times in the ale-house tasting strong beer. Par. Neighbours, neighbours! the weakest now-a-days goes to the wall; But mark my words, and follow the counsel of John Ball. England is grown to such a pass of late, That rich men triumph to see the poor beg at their gate. But I am able, by good Scripture, before you to prove That God doth not this dealing allow nor love. But when Adam delved, and Eve span, Who was then a gentleman? Brethren, brethren, it were better to have this community, Than to have this difference in degrees: The landlord his rent, the lawyer his fees. So quickly the poor man's substance is spent, But merrily with the world it went, When men ate berries of the hawthorn-tree: And thou help me, I'll help thee: There was no place for surgery, And old men knew not usury. Now 'tis come to a woful pass, The widow, that hath but a pan of brass, And scarce a house to hide her head; Must pay her landlord many a groat, Or 'twill be pulled out of her throat. Brethren mine, so might I thrive, As I wish not to be alive, To see such dealings with extremity, The rich have all, the poor live in misery: But follow the counsel of John Ball. I promise you, I love ye all; And make division equally Of each man's goods indifferently, And rightly may you follow arms To rid you from these civil harms. J. S. Well said, parson, so may it be, As we purpose to prefer thee: We will have all the rich men displaced, And all the bravery of them defaced; And as rightly as I am Jack Straw, In spite of all the men of law, Make thee Archbishop of Canterbury And Chancellor of England, or I'll die. How sayest thou, Wat, shall it be so? W. T. Ay, Jack Straw, or else I'll bide many a foul blow. It shall be no other but he, That thus favours the commonalty. Stay we no longer prating here, But let us roundly to this gear. 'Tis more than time that we were gone, We'll be lords, my masters, every one. T. M. And I, my masters, will make one, To fight when all our foes be gone; Well shall they see, before we'll lack, We'll stuff the gallows till it crack. J. S. I hope we shall have men enou', To aid us herein, Wat; how thinkest thou? Par. Tag and rag, thou needst not doubt. W. T. But who shall be captain of the rout? Par. That shall you two, for all our Kentish men. J. S. Fellow-captain, welcome, let's about it. W. T. Agreed, fellow-captain; to London. [Exeunt all but Nobbs. Nobbs. Here's even work towards for the hangman: did you ever see such a crew. After so bad a beginning, what's like to ensue? Faith, even the common reward for rebels, Swingledom. Swangledom, you know as well as I. But what care they? ye hear them say they owe God a death, and they can but die. 'Tis dishonour for such as they to die in their bed, And credit to caper under the gallows, all save the head; And yet, by my fay, the beginning of this riot May chance cost many a man's life, before all be at quiet: And i' faith I'll be amongst them, as forward as the best, And if ought fall out but well, I shall shift amongst the rest, And being but a boy, may hide me in the throng. Tyburn, stand fast; I fear you will be loden, ere it be long. [Exit.
L. T. And yet, Lord Archbishop, your grace doth know That, since the latest time of parliament, Wherein this task was granted to the king By general consent of either house, To help his wars, which he intends to France, For wreak and just recovery of his right, How slow their payment is in every place, Than be beholding to ungrateful minds. Arch. Lord Treasurer, it seemeth strange to me, That, being won with reason and regard Of true-succeeding prince, the common sort Should be so slack to give, or grudge the gift That is to be employed for their behoof. Hard and unnatural be the thoughts of theirs That suck the milk, and will not help the well. The king himself, being now but young of age, If things should fall out otherwise than well, The blame doth fall upon the councillor. And if I take my aim not all awry, The Multitude, a beast of many heads, Of misconceiving and misconstruing minds, Reputes this last benevolence to the king, Given at high court of parliament, A matter more required for private good, Than help or benefit of commonweal, Wherein how much they wrong the better sort, My conscience beareth witness in the cause. Sec. My lords, because your words not worthless are, Because they stand on reason's surest ground, And tend unto the profit of the king, You give me leave, in reverence to the cause, To speak my mind touching this question: When such as we do see the people's hearts, Expressed as far as time will give them leave, With heartiness of their benevolence, Methinks it were for others' happiness, That hearts and purses should together go: Misdeem not, good my lords, of this my speech, Sith well I wot the noble and the slave, And all, do live but for a commonweal, Which commonweal, in other terms, is the king's. Messenger. The Justices and Sheriffs of Kent Sends greetings to your Honours here by me. [Delivers a letter. Arch. My lords, A dangerous task to us and all our trains, With speed let us impart the news Unto my lord the king, the fearful news That, whilst the flame doth but begin, Sad policy may serve to quench the fire: The Commons now are up in Kent; let us not Suffer this first attempt too far. Treas. My friend, what power have they assembled in the field? Mess. My lord, a twenty thousand men or thereabout. Sec. See here the peril, that was late foreseen, Ready to fall on this unhappy land! What barbarous minds for grievance more than needs Unnaturally seek wreak on Their true, anointed prince, their lawful king; Lay violent hands, they wot not why nor where But be thou still, as best becometh thee, To stand in quarrel with thy natural liege, The sun may sometimes be eclips'd with clouds, But hardly may the twinkling stars obscure, Or put him out, of whom they borrow light. [Exeunt.
J. S. So he did, till I fetch'd him out by force; and I have his wife and children pledges for his speedy return from the king, to whom he is gone with our message. H. C. Captain Straw, how many men have we in the field? J. S. Marry, Captain Carter, about fifty thousand men. H. C. Where shall we pitch our tents to lie in safety? J. S. Marry, Hob, upon Blackheath beside Greenwich, there we'll lie; And if the king will come thither to know our pleasure, so it is; if not, I know what we'll do. W. T. Gog's blood, Jack, have we the cards in our hands? Let's take it upon us, while we have it. [Exeunt, except Nobs. Nobs. Ay, marry, for you know not how long you shall hold it, Fifty thousand men they have already in arms that will draw together; If we hang together as fast, some of us shall repent it. [Exit.
Q. M. This strange, unwelcome, and unhappy news, Of these unnatural rebels and unjust, That threaten wrack unto this wretched land; Ay me, affrights my woman's 'mazed mind, Burdens my heart, and interrupts my sleep, That now, unless some better tidings come Unto my son, their true anointed king, Surcharged with a heavy load of thoughts. E. of S. Madam, your grace's care in this I much commend, For, though your son, my lord the king, be young. Yet he will see so well unto himself, That he will make the proudest rebel know What 'tis to move or to displease a king; And though his looks bewray such lenity, Yet at advantage he can use extremity: Your grace may call to mind that, being a king, He will not put up any injury, Especially of base and common men, Which are not worthy but with reverence To look into the princely state of kings. A king sometimes will make a show of courtesy, Only to fit a following policy: And it may be the king determines so, That he will try, before he trust, a foe. Usher. True, madam; for your grace's son the King Is so well ruled by divers of his peers, As that I think the proudest foe he hath Shall find more work than he will take in hand, That seeks the downfal of his Majesty. I hope the Council are too wise for that, To suffer rebels in aspiring pride, That purpose treason to the prince and state. In good time see where my lord the king Doth come, accompanied with the Bishop and Lord Treasurer. King. I marvel much, my lords, what rage it is That moves my people, whom I love so dear, Under a show of quarrel good and just, To rise against us thus in mutinies, But if it be, as we are given to know By letters and by credible report, A little spark hath kindled all this fire, Which must be quench'd with circumspect regard, Before we feel the violence of the flame. Meanwhile, sweet lady mother, be content, And think their malice shall not injure you; For we have tools to crop and cut them off, Ere they presume to touch our royal self, And thus resolve, that you secure shall be, What hard mishap soever fall to me.
Mes. Health and good hap befall your Majesty! Usher. My lord, here is a messenger from Kent, That craves access unto your Majesty. King. Admit him near, for we will hear him speak: 'Tis hard, when 'twixt the people and the king Such terms of threats and parlies must be had! Would any gentleman or man of worth Be seen in such a cause, without offence Both to his God, his country, and his prince, Except he were enforced thereunto? Queen. I cannot think so good a gentleman As is that knight, Sir John Morton I mean, Would entertain so base and vile a thought: That, were it not for fear or policy, So true a bird would file so fair a nest; But here he comes. O, so my longing mind Desires to know the tidings he doth bring.
Mor. The Commons of Kent salute your Majesty, And I am made their unhappy messenger: My lord, a crew of rebels are in field, And they have made commotions late in Kent, And drawn your people to a mutiny; And if your grace see not to it in time, Your land will come to ruin by their means. Yet may your grace find remedy in time, To qualify their pride, that thus presume. Bishop. Who are the captains of this rebel rout, That thus do rise 'gainst their anointed king? What, be they men of any worth, or no? If men of worth, I cannot choose but pity them. Mor. No, my good lord, They be men of no great account, for they Be none but tilers, thatchers, millers, and such like, That in their lives did never come in field, Before this mutiny did call them forth; And for security of my back-return, Upon this message which I showed the king, They keep my wife and children for a pledge, And hold me out from forth my castle at Rochester, And swore me there to come unto your Majesty; And, having told you their minds, I hope your grace will pardon me for all: In that I am enforced thereunto. King. How many men have they assembled in the field? Mor. I think, my lord, about twenty thousand men; But, if your grace would follow my advice, Thus would I deal with these rebellious men: I would find time to parley with some of them, And know what in their minds they do intend, For being armed with such treacherous thoughts, They may perform more than your grace expects. King. With speed return to those unnatural men, And see, Sir John, you greet them thus from us: Tell them that we ourselves will come to them, To understand their meaning and their minds; And tell them, if they have any evil sustained, Ourselves will see sufficient recompense: Go, good Sir John, and tell them upon the Thames Ourselves will meet with them, there to confer Concerning their avail; And kindly recommend us to them all. Mor. We shall fulfil your grace's mind in this; And thus I take my congÉ of your majesty, Wishing your grace thrice Nestor's years to reign, To keep your land, and guard your royal train. Queen. Farewell, good knight, and as thou darest, Remember them, though they forget themselves. [Exit Morton. Bishop. Your grace herein is very well advised. With resolution fitting your degree, Your grace must show yourself to be a king, And rule like God's vicegerent here on earth, The looks of kings do lend both life and death, His sentence should be irrevocable. Your grace herein hath shown your princely mind, In that you hate to prey on carrion flesh; Such prey befits not kings to prey upon, That may command and countermand their own. I hope, my lord, this message so will prove, That public hate will turn to private love. And therefore I say, my lord, you have answered well, The task was given your grace by Act of Parliament, And you have reason to demand your due. King. My lord, I hope we shall not need to fear To meet those men, that thus do threaten us. We will, my lord to-morrow meet with them, And hear, my lord, what 'tis that they demand. Mother, your grace shall need to take no care, For you shall in our Tower of London stay Till we return from Kent to you again. My lord, see everything prepared for us; And, mother, thus I leave your majesty, You to the Tower, and I must hence to Kent. Treas. My lord, if so you please, take my advice herein, That speaks in love and duty to your grace: I shall in every matter privilege Your majesty and all your lordly train. I mean against your manor of Greenwich town, And so amidst the stream may hover safe, Meanwhile they send some few and chosen men, To give your grace to understand their minds, And thus, my lords, I have adventured To show your majesty my mind herein. [Exeunt. |
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