MORE.
My lord, farewell: new days begets new tides;
Life whirls bout fate, then to a grave it slides.
[Exeunt severally.]
ACT III.
SCENE I. Cheapside.
[Enter Master Sheriff, and meet a Messenger.]
SHERIFF.
Messenger, what news?
MESSENGER.
Is execution yet performed?
SHERIFF.
Not yet; the carts stand ready at the stairs,
And they shall presently away to Tibourne.
MESSENGER.
Stay, Master Shrieve; it is the council’s pleasure,
For more example in so bad a case,
A gibbet be erected in Cheapside,
Hard by the Standard; whether you must bring
Lincoln and those that were the chief with him,
[Enter Officers.]