L. T. And yet, Lord Archbishop, your grace doth know
That, since the latest time of parliament,
Wherein this task was granted to the king
By general consent of either house,
To help his wars, which he intends to France,
For wreak and just recovery of his right,
How slow their payment is in every place,
That better a king not to command at all,
Than be beholding to ungrateful minds.
Arch. Lord Treasurer, it seemeth strange to me,
That, being won with reason and regard
Of true-succeeding prince, the common sort
Should be so slack to give, or grudge the gift
That is to be employed for their behoof.
Hard and unnatural be the thoughts of theirs
That suck the milk, and will not help the well.
The king himself, being now but young of age,
If things should fall out otherwise than well,
The blame doth fall upon the councillor.
And if I take my aim not all awry,
The Multitude, a beast of many heads,
Of misconceiving and misconstruing minds,
Reputes this last benevolence to the king,
Given at high court of parliament,
A matter more required for private good,
Than help or benefit of commonweal,
Wherein how much they wrong the better sort,
My conscience beareth witness in the cause.
Sec. My lords, because your words not worthless are,
Because they stand on reason's surest ground,
And tend unto the profit of the king,
Whose profit is the profit of the land.
You give me leave, in reverence to the cause,
To speak my mind touching this question:
When such as we do see the people's hearts,
Expressed as far as time will give them leave,
With heartiness of their benevolence,
Methinks it were for others' happiness,
That hearts and purses should together go:
Misdeem not, good my lords, of this my speech,
Sith well I wot the noble and the slave,
And all, do live but for a commonweal,
Which commonweal, in other terms, is the king's.
Messenger. The Justices and Sheriffs of Kent
Sends greetings to your Honours here by me.
[Delivers a letter.
Arch. My lords,[437] this brief doth openly unfold
A dangerous task to us and all our trains,
With speed let us impart the news
Unto my lord the king, the fearful news
That, whilst the flame doth but begin,
Sad policy may serve to quench the fire:
The Commons now are up in Kent; let us not
Suffer this first attempt too far.
Treas. My friend, what power have they assembled in the field?
Mess. My lord, a twenty thousand men or thereabout.
Sec. See here the peril, that was late foreseen,
Ready to fall on this unhappy land!
What barbarous minds for grievance more than needs
Unnaturally seek wreak on[438] their lord,
Their true, anointed prince, their lawful king;
So dare this blind, unshamefac'd multitude
Lay violent hands, they wot not why nor where
But be thou still, as best becometh thee,
To stand in quarrel with thy natural liege,
The sun may sometimes be eclips'd with clouds,
But hardly may the twinkling stars obscure,
Or put him out, of whom they borrow light.
[Exeunt.
Enter Jack Straw, Wat Tyler, Hob Carter, Tom Miller, and Nobs.