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John Ball. I am John Ball; but I am not a rebel. Take ye the name, who, arrogant in strength, Rebel against the people's sovereignty.

Sir John. John Ball, you are accused of stirring up The poor deluded people to rebellion,

Not having the fear of God and of the king

Before your eyes; of preaching up strange notions, Heretical and treasonous, such as saying

That kings have not a right from Heaven to govern;
That all mankind are equal; and that rank
And the distinctions of society,

Ay, and the sacred rights of property,

Are evil and oppressive. Plead you guilty
To this most heavy charge?

John Ball.

If it be guilt

To preach what you are pleased to call strange

notions,

That all mankind as brethren must be equal;

That privileged orders of society

Are evil and oppressive; that the right

Of property is a juggle to deceive

The poor, whom you oppress,

I plead me guilty.

Sir John. It is against the custom of this court That the prisoner should plead guilty.

John Ball.

Why, then, put you

The needless question? Sir Judge, let me save

The vain and empty insult of a trial:

What I have done, that I dare justify.

Sir John. Did you not tell the mob they were oppressed,

And preach upon the equality of man,

With evil intent, thereby to stir them up
To tumult and rebellion?

John Ball.

That I told them

That all mankind are equal, is most true:
Ye came as helpless infants to the world,
Ye feel alike the infirmities of nature,
And at last moulder into common clay.
Why, then, these vain distinctions? Bears not the
Food in abundance? Must your granaries

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O'erflow with plenty, while the poor man starves?
Sir Judge, why sit you there, clad in your furs?
Why are your cellars stored with choicest wines,
Your larders hung with dainties, while your vassal,
As virtuous, and as able too by nature,
Though by your selfish tyranny deprived
Of mind's improvement, shivers in his rags,
And starves amid the plenty he creates ?
I have said this is wrong, and I repeat it;

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And there will be a time when this great truth
Shall be confessed, -be felt by all mankind.
The electric truth shall run from man to man,
And the blood-cemented pyramid of greatness
Shall fall before the flash.

Sir John.

Audacious rebel!

How darest thou insult this sacred court,
Blaspheming all the dignities of rank?
How could the government be carried on
Without the sacred orders of the king
And the nobility?

John Ball.

Tell me, Sir Judge,

What does the government avail the peasant? Would not he plough his field, and sow the corn, Ay, and in peace enjoy the harvest too,

Would not the sun shine, and the dews descend, Though neither king nor parliament existed? Do your court politics aught matter him? Would he be warring even unto death

With his French neighbors? Charles and Richard contend;

The people fight and suffer. Think ye, sirs,
If neither country had been cursed with a chief,
The peasants would have quarrelled?

King.
This is treason:
The patience of the court has been insulted.
Condemn the foul-mouthed, contumacious rebel.
Sir John. John Ball, whereas you are accused
before us

Of stirring up the people to rebellion,

And preaching to them strange and dangerous doctrines;

And whereas your behavior to the court
Has been most insolent and contumacious,
Insulting majesty; and since you have pleaded
Guilty to all these charges,—I condemn you
To death. You shall be hanged by the neck,
But not till you are dead; your bowels opened;
Your heart torn out, and burnt before your face;
Your traitorous head be severed from your body;
Your body quartered, and exposed upon

The city gates, - a terrible example:

And the Lord God have mercy on your soul! John Ball. Why, be it so. I can smile at your

vengeance,

For I am armed with rectitude of soul.

The truth, which all my life I have divulged,
And am now doomed in torments to expire for,
Shall still survive. The destined hour must come
When it shall blaze with sun-surpassing splendor,
And the dark mists of prejudice and falsehood
Fade in its strong effulgence. Flattery's incense
No more shall shadow round the gore-dyed throne;
That altar of oppression, fed with rites
More savage than the priests of Moloch taught,
Shall be consumed amid the fire of Justice;

The rays of truth shall emanate around,

And the whole world be lighted.

Drag him hence!

King. Away with him to death! Order the troops Now to give quarter, and make prisoners; Let the blood-reeking sword of war be sheathed, That the law may take vengeance on the rebels.

POEMS CONCERNING THE SLAVE

TRADE.

SONNET I.

--

HOLD your mad hands! For ever on your plain
Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood?
For ever must your Niger's tainted flood
Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain?
Hold your mad hands! and learn at length to know,
And turn your vengeance on the common foe, -
Yon treacherous vessel, and her godless crew.
Let never traders with false prétext fair
Set on your shores again their wicked feet:
With interdict and indignation meet
Repel them, and with fire and sword pursue.
Avarice, the white, cadaverous fiend, is there,
Who spreads his toils accursed wide and far,
And, for his purveyor, calls the demon War.

SONNET II.

WHY dost thou beat thy breast, and rend thine hair, And to the deaf sea pour thy frantic cries?

Before the gale, the laden vessel flies;

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