Tell me but this: What rebel captain,

As mutinies are incident, by his name

Can still the rout? Who will obey a traitor?

Or how can well that proclamation sound

When there is no addition but ‘a rebel’

To qualify a rebel? You’ll put down strangers,

Kill them, cut their throats, possess their houses,

And lead the majesty of law in lyam

To slip him like a hound. Alas, alas! Say now the King,

As he is clement if th’offender mourn,

Should so much come too short of your great trespass

As but to banish you: whither would you go?

What country, by the nature of your error,

Should give you harbour? Go you to France or

Flanders,

To any German province, Spain or Portugal,

Nay, anywhere that not adheres to England:

Why, you must needs be strangers. Would you be

pleased

To find a nation of such barbarous temper

That, breaking out in hideous violence,

Would not afford you an abode on earth,

Whet their detested knives against your throats,

Spurn you like dogs, and like as if that God

Owed not nor made not you, nor that the elements

Were not all appropriate to your comforts,

But chartered unto them? What would you think

To be thus used? This is the strangers’ case,

And this your mountainish inhumanity.

ALL CITIZENS Faith, a says true. Let us do as we may be done by.

ALL CITIZENS LINCOLN We’ll be ruled by you, Master More, if you’ll stand our friend to procure our pardon.

MORE

Submit you to these noble gentlemen,

Entreat their mediation to the King,

Give up yourself to form, obey the magistrate,

And there’s no doubt but mercy may be found

If you so seek it.

[Addition 11 (Shakespeare)]

[Original Text (Munday)]

ALL CITIZENS We yield, and desire his highness’ mercy. They lay by their weapons

MORE

No doubt his majesty will grant it you.

But you must yield to go to several prisons

Till that his highness’ will be further known.

ALL CITIZENS Most willingly, whither you will have us.

SHREWSBURY

Lord Mayor, let them be sent to several prisons,

And there, in any case, be well entreated.

My lord of Surrey, please you to take horse

And ride to Cheapside, where the aldermen

Are with their several companies in arms.

Will them to go unto their several wards,

Both for the stay of further mutiny

And for the apprehending of such persons

As shall contend.

SURREY

I go, my noble lord.

Exit

SHREWSBURY

We’ll straight go tell his highness these good news.

Withal, Sheriff More, I’ll tell him how your breath

Hath ransomed many a subject from sad death. Exit

LORD MAYOR

Lincoln and Sherwin, you shall both to Newgate,

The rest unto the Counters.

PALMER

Go, guard them hence. A little breath well spent

Cheats expectation in his fair’st event.

DOLL Well, Sheriff More, thou hast done more with thy good words than all they could with their weapons. Give me thy hand. Keep thy promise now for the King’s pardon, or, by the Lord, I’ll call thee a plain cony-catcher.

LINCOLN

Farewell, Sheriff More. And as we yield by thee

So make our peace; then thou deal’st honestly.

CLOWN BETTS Ay, and save us from the gallows, else a deals double honestly.

[The Citizens] are led away

LORD MAYOR

Master Sheriff More, you have preserved the city

From a most dangerous fierce commotion.

For if this limb of riot here in St Martin’s

Had joined with other branches of the city

That did begin to kindle, ’twould have bred

Great rage. That rage much murder would have fed.

PALMER

Not steel but eloquence hath wrought this good.

You have redeemed us from much threatened blood.

MORE

My lord, and brethren, what I here have spoke

My country’s love and, next, the city’s care

Enjoined me to; which since it thus prevails,

Think God hath made weak More His instrument

To thwart sedition’s violent intent.

I think ’twere best, my lord, some two hours hence

We meet at the Guildhall, and there determine

That thorough every ward the watch be clad

In armour. But especially provide

That at the city gates selected men,

Substantial citizens, do ward tonight,

For fear of further mischief.

LORD MAYOR It shall be so.

Enter Shrewsbury

But yon, methinks, my lord of Shrewsbury.

SHREWSBURY

My lord, his majesty sends loving thanks

To you, your brethren, and his faithful subjects

Your careful citizens. But Master More, to you

A rougher yet as kind a salutation.

Your name is yet too short. Nay, you must kneel.

A knight’s creation is this knightly steel.

⌈More kneels⌉

Rise up Sir Thomas More.

⌈He knights More⌉

MORE ⌈rising⌉

I thank his highness for thus honouring me.

SHREWSBURY

This is but first taste of his princely favour,

For it hath pleased his high majesty,

Noting your wisdom and deserving merit,

To put this staff of honour in your hand,

For he hath chose you of his Privy Council.

⌈He gives More a staff of office⌉