“Cock-a-doodle-do!”
“Up, all slug-a-beds! St. George and the King!”
They took up the cry.
“Ha, for King Richard and the Commons! Send us out our King.”
Other great lords joined Knollys and Walworth on the platform of the White Tower. They stood in a group, close to the drooping standard, listening to the cries of the mob. Their faces were very grave and grim.
“To-day’s game is a game of chess, sirs, and it is the King’s move. Knights, castles, and bishops are of no account.”
“All hangs on the courage of a bastard!”
“A good hawk or I’m no judge. Let’s fly him.”
Salisbury struck the standard pole with his fist.
“St. George and King Richard for Merrie England! That is our cry. The lad shall serve. Let these hinds march to Mile End, and meet the King face to face. We will send our trumpeters to the outer gate. Now God in heaven alone knows what this day will bring.”