Enter Messenger.
Mes. Health and good hap befall your Majesty!
Usher. My lord, here is a messenger from Kent,
That craves access unto your Majesty.
King. Admit him near, for we will hear him speak:
'Tis hard, when 'twixt the people and the king
Such terms of threats and parlies must be had!
Would any gentleman or man of worth
Be seen in such a cause, without offence
Both to his God, his country, and his prince,
Except he were enforced thereunto?
Queen. I cannot think so good a gentleman
As is that knight, Sir John Morton I mean,
Would entertain so base and vile a thought:
Nor can it sink into my woman's head
That, were it not for fear or policy,
So true a bird would file so fair a nest;
But here he comes. O, so my longing mind
Desires to know the tidings he doth bring.
Enter Sir John Morton.
Mor. The Commons of Kent salute your Majesty,
And I am made their unhappy messenger:
My lord, a crew of rebels are in field,
And they have made commotions late in Kent,
And drawn your people to a mutiny;
And if your grace see not to it in time,
Your land will come to ruin by their means.
Yet may your grace find remedy in time,
To qualify their pride, that thus presume.
Bishop. Who are the captains of this rebel rout,
That thus do rise 'gainst their anointed king?
What, be they men of any worth, or no?
If men of worth, I cannot choose but pity them.
Mor. No, my good lord,
They be men of no great account, for they
Be none but tilers, thatchers, millers, and such like,
That in their lives did never come in field,
Before this mutiny did call them forth;
And for security of my back-return,
Upon this message which I showed the king,
They keep my wife and children for a pledge,
And hold me out from forth my castle at Rochester,
And swore me there to come unto your Majesty;
And, having told you their minds,
I hope your grace will pardon me for all:
In that I am enforced thereunto.