Tom Miller. These insolent oppressors. John Ball. Ye have cause for anger; Mob. Justice! justice! John Ball. We'll trample down In good truth, but, my honest friends, ye seek? Oh! then, remember mercy; And, though your proud oppressors spare not you, Show you excel them in humanity. They will use every art to disunite you; To conquer separately, by stratagem, And, while you spurn the hated name of slaves, Mob. Long live our honest priest! Jack Straw. He shall be made archbishop. John Ball. My brethren, I am plain John Ball, your friend, Your equal; by the law of Christ, enjoined To serve you, not command. Jack Straw. March we for London. Tyler. Mark me, my friends! we rise for Liberty: Justice shall be our guide; let no man dare To plunder in the tumult. Mob. Lead us on. Liberty! justice! [Exeunt, with cries of "Liberty! No poll-tax! No war!" SCENE II. The Tower. KING RICHARD, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, Sir John TreSILIAN, WALWORTH, PHILPOT. King. What must we do? The danger grows more imminent. Were politic. Go boldly forth to meet them; Grant all they ask, however wild and ruinous : Meantime, the troops you have already summoned Will gather round them. Then my Christian power Absolves you of your promise. Walworth. Were but their ringleaders cut off, the rabble Would soon disperse. Philpot. United in a mass, There's nothing can resist them: once divide them, And they will fall an easy sacrifice. Archbishop. Lull them by promises; bespeak them fair. Go forth, my liege; spare not, if need requires King. I dread their fury. Archbishop. 'Tis a needless dread; There is divinity about your person; Howe'er they act, to render no account To man. The people have been taught this lesson, Nor can they soon forget it. King. I will go; I will submit to every thing they ask. My day of triumph will arrive at last. [Shouts without. Enter Messenger. Messenger. The mob are at the city gates. Haste! haste! [Shouts again. Address them ere too late. I'll remain here, Archbishop. For they detest me much. Enter another Messenger. Mess. The Londoners have opened the city gates; The rebels are admitted. King. Fear, then, must give me courage. My WAT TYLER, JOHN BALL, PIERS, &c., Mob. Piers. So far triumphant are we. How these nobles, These petty tyrants, who so long oppressed us, Hob. They were powerful Only because we fondly thought them so. Where is Jack Straw? Tyler. Jack Straw is gone to the Tower To seize the king, and so to end resistance. John Ball. It was well judged fain would I spare the shedding Of human blood. Gain we that royal puppet, And all will follow fairly; deprived of him, Enter Herald. Herald. Richard the Second, by the grace of God, Of England, Ireland, France, and Scotland, King, And of the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, Would parley with Wat Tyler. Tyler. Let him know Wat Tyler is in Smithfield. [Exit Herald.]-I will parley With this young monarch. As he comes to me, Trusting my honor, on your lives I charge you Let none attempt to harm him. John Ball. The faith of courts Is but a weak dependence. You are honest; And better is it even to die the victim Of credulous honesty, than live preserved By the cold policy that still suspects. Enter King, Walworth, Philpot, &c. King. I would speak to thee, Wat Tyler: bid the Am I not armed with a just cause? Retire, And I will boldly plead the cause of Freedom. [Advances. King. Tyler, why have you killed my officer, And led my honest subjects from their homes, Thus to rebel against the Lord's anointed? Tyler. Because they were oppressed. King. Was this the way Petitioning for pity is most weak: The sovereign people ought to demand justice. To force upon the French a king they hate, Tearing our young men from their peaceful homes, Forcing his hard-earned fruits from the honest peasant, |