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⌉