LORD MAYOR.
How now! what news?
MESSENGER.
My lord, the rebels have broke open Newgate,
From whence they have delivered many prisoners,
Both felons and notorious murderers,
That desperately cleave to their lawless train.
LORD MAYOR.
Up with the drawbridge, gather some forces
To Cornhill and Cheapside:—and, gentlemen,
If diligence be weighed on every side,
A quiet ebb will follow this rough tide.
[Enter Shrewsbury, Surrey, Palmer, and Cholmley.]
SHREWSBURY.
Lord Mayor, his majesty, receiving notice
Of this most dangerous insurrection,
Hath sent my lord of Surrey and myself,
Sir Thomas Palmer and our followers,
To add unto your forces our best means
For pacifying of this mutiny.
In God’s name, then, set on with happy speed!
The king laments, if one true subject bleed.
SURREY.
I hear they mean to fire the Lombards’ houses:
Oh power, what art thou in a madman’s eyes!
Thou makest the plodding idiot bloody-wise.
MORE.
My lords, I doubt not but we shall appease
With a calm breath this flux of discontent:
To call them to a parley, questionless—
PALMER.
May fall out good: tis well said, Master More.
MORE.
Let’s to these simple men; for many sweat
Under this act, that knows not the law’s debt
Which hangs upon their lives; for silly men
Plod on they know not how, like a fool’s pen,
That, ending, shows not any sentence writ,
Linked but to common reason or slightest wit:
These follow for no harm; but yet incur
Self penalty with those that raised this stir.
A God’s name, on, to calm our private foes
With breath of gravity, not dangerous blows!