“Alack, sweet maid, here 's news!” exclaimed the Mayor. “I 've been busied propping the kingdom.‘ And to the men he said: ’On! he is not here.”
But one of the men answered him: “The fellow was seen o' Cornhill within the hour. Is a most arrant knave. This house were safest in all London, seeing he hath shed blood in it. Let us enter!”
So they went in and threw wide the window and the doors, for that the room was dark. And some mounted to the chamber under the roof. Then the man that craved leave to enter went and stood by the great chest in the lower room; and presently he had lifted the lid and thrust in his hand, and all they heard a terrible squawk. The man had Jack Straw by the leg, and flung him out on the floor.
“O thou vile murderer!” cried Calote. “Coward, without shame! Dost shelter thee on this hearth thou hast defiled? O craven dog!”
There were deep shadows in the eyes of Calote. This horror of her mother's death was yet upon her. Moreover, she knew what it was to fail.
“Do not let the clerk come at me!” Jack Straw prayed the Mayor. He shivered; he was all of a sweat. “Wherefore do ye take me? Thrust thy fingers in my breast, the King's pardon is there. Hark ye,—I 'll say it. I have it by heart. 'Know that of our special grace we have manumitted'—hearken, 'freed him of all bondage, and made him quit by these presents.' I be free man, pardoned of all felonies, treasons, transgressions, and extortions. Look ye, masters,—'t is writ here.—Bind not my hands! Read!—'And assure him of our summa pax.' I 'm free man. Read!—'Dated June the fourteenth, anno regni quarto.' I had it of yonder clerk, learned me the Latin the while he writ. I 'm free man. Will,—speak for me! Will!—Will!—I meant no harm,—she came between and I knew 't not. Will, thou knowest I meant no harm to Kitte. Speak! Is 't for this I 'm ta'en? The Lord is leech of love, Will, forgiveth his enemies. I 'm thy friend, Will;—was ever.”
“Have him forth!” shouted Langland above this din. “Have him forth swift,—else must ye bind me likewise. O Christ—give me leave!—Avenge her, Christ Jesus!”
Then Jack Straw, being 'ware that here was no hope, turned him at the threshold and said:—
“There be others, prisoners, mistress, and thy peddler is one. I saw him borne to Tower yester e'en. Thy fine esquire 's like to lose his head as soon as I.”
“Set a gag twixt his teeth,” said Walworth. So they did, and bore him through London streets. And if any man was his friend, he went and hid himself.