DICK
[Takes a stick from wall, notches it with his knife, and shows
it to Bottlejohn.]
Sixpence, sir, three farthings.
[Dick then goes to the cellar door. As he opens it, he is grabbed within by the Miller, handed breathlessly to the Shipman, who claps his hands over the boy’s mouth, and disappears with him below. The door then is closed, but at intervals it opens and the Miller’s head is seen cautiously to emerge.]
MERCHANT
This Wycliffe’s gab hath hurt good trade. ’Twas him,
Six year ago, whose preaching made the poor folk
March up to London-town with Wat the Tyler,
And burn the gentry’s houses.
DYER