[The King gives him the sword.
J. S. Villain, I say, give me the sword thou bearest up,
For that's the thing I tell thee I affect.
New. This sword belongs unto my lord the king.
Tis none of mine, nor shalt thou have the same.
Proud rebel, wert but thou and I alone,
Thou durst not ask it thus boldly at my hand,
For all the wealth this Smithfield doth contain.
J. S. By him that died for me, I will not dine,
Till I have seen thee hanged or made away.
King. Alas, Lord Mayor! Newton is in great danger,
And force cannot prevail amongst the rout.
Mayor. Old Rome, I can remember I have read,
When thou didst flourish for virtue and for arms,
What magnanimity did abide in thee!
Then, Walworth, as it may become thee well,
Deserve some honour at thy prince's hand,
And beautify this dignity of thine
With some or other act of consequence!
[Aside. Advances.
Villain, I say, whence comes this rage of thine?
How darest thou, a dunghill bastard born,
To brave thy sovereign and his nobles thus?
Villain, I do arrest thee in my prince's name!
Proud rebel as thou art, take that withal;
[Here he stabs him.