ACT II. |
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SCENE— BLACKHEATH. |
1sd |
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TYLER, HOB, &c. |
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SONG. |
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' When Adam delv'd, and Eve span, |
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' Who was then the gentleman?' |
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Wretched is the infant's lot, |
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Born within the straw-roof'd cot! |
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Be he generous, wise, or brave, |
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He must only be a slave. |
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Long, long labour, little rest, |
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Still to toil to be oppress'd; |
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Drain'd by taxes of his store, |
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Punish'd next for being poor; |
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This is the poor wretch's lot, |
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Born within the straw-roof'd cot. |
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While the peasant works— to sleep; |
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What the peasant sows— to reap; |
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On the couch of ease to lie, |
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Rioting in revelry; |
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Be he villain, be he fool, |
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Still to hold despotic rule, |
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Trampling on his slaves with scorn; |
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This is to be nobly born. |
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' When Adam delv'd, and Eve span, |
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' Who was then the gentleman?' |
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JACK STRAW. |
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The mob are up in London— the proud courtiers |
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Begin to tremble. |
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TOM MILLER. |
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Aye, aye, 'tis time to tremble; |
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Who'll plow their fields, who'll do their drudgery now? |
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And work like horses, to give them the harvest? |
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JACK STRAW. |
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I only wonder we lay quiet so long. |
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We had always the same strength, and we deserved |
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The ills we met with for not using it. |
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HOB. |
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Why do we fear those animals called lords? |
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What is there in the name to frighten us? |
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Is not my arm as mighty as a Baron's? |
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Enter PIERS and JOHN BALL. |
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PIERS (to TYLER). |
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Have I done well, my father?— I remember'd |
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This good man lay in prison. |
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TYLER. |
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My dear child, |
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Most well; the people rise for liberty, |
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And their first deed should be to break the chains |
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That bind the virtuous:— O thou honest priest— |
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How much has thou endured! |
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JOHN BALL. |
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Why aye, my friend! |
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These squalid rags bespeak what I have suffered. |
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I was revil'd— insulted— left to languish |
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In a damp dungeon; but I bore it cheerily— |
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My heart was glad— for I have done my duty. |
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I pitied my oppressors, and I sorrowed |
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For the poor men of England. |
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TYLER. |
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They have felt |
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Their strength—look round this heath! 'tis thronged with men. |
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Ardent for freedom; mighty is the event |
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That waits their fortune. |
51 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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I would fain address them. |
52 |
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TYLER. |
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Do so, my friend, and teach to them their duty; |
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Remind them of their long withholden rights. |
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What ho there! silence! |
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PIERS. |
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Silence there, my friends, |
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This good man would address you. |
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HOB. |
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Aye, aye, hear him— |
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He is no mealy mouthed court orator, |
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To flatter vice, and pamper lordly pride. |
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JOHN BALL. |
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Friends! Brethren! for ye are my brethren all; |
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Englishmen met in arms to advocate |
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The cause of freedom! hear me! pause awhile |
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In the career of vengeance; it is true |
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I am a priest; but, as these rags may speak, |
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Not one who riots in the poor man's spoil, |
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Or trades with his religion. I am one |
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Who preach the law of Christ, and in my life, |
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Would practice what he taught. The son of God |
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Came not to you in power: humble in mien, |
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Lowly in heart, the man of Nazareth |
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Preach'd mercy, justice, love: "Woe unto ye, |
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Ye that are rich:—if that ye would be saved, |
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Sell that ye have, and give unto the poor." |
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So taught the Saviour: oh, my honest friends! |
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Have ye not felt the strong indignant throb |
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Of justice in your bosoms, to behold |
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The lordly Baron feasting on your spoils? |
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Have you not in your hearts arraign'd the lot |
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That gave him on the couch of luxury |
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To pillow his head, and pass the festive day |
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In sportive feasts, and ease, and revelry? |
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Have you not often in your conscience ask'd |
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Why is the difference, wherefore should that man, |
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No worthier than myself, thus lord it over me, |
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And bid me labour, and enjoy the fruits? |
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The God within your breasts has argued thus! |
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The voice of truth has murmur'd; came ye not |
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As helpless to the world? Shines not the sun |
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With equal ray on both?— Do ye not feel |
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The self same winds of heaven as keenly parch ye? |
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Abundant is the earth—the Sire of all, |
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Saw and pronounc'd that it was very good. |
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Look round: the vernal fields smile with new flowers, |
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The budding orchard perfumes the soft breeze, |
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And the green corn waves to the passing gale. |
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There is enough for all, but your proud Baron |
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Stands up, and arrogant of strength exclaims, |
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"I am a Lord—by nature I am noble: |
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These fields are mine, for I was born to them, |
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I was born in the castle—you, poor wretches, |
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Whelp'd in the cottage, are by birth my slaves." |
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Almighty God! such blasphemies are utter'd! |
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Almighty God! such blasphemies believ'd! |
104 |
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TOM MILLER. |
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This is something like a sermon. |
105 |
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JACK STRAW. |
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Where's the bishop |
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Would tell you truths like these? |
107 |
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HOB. |
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There was never a bishop among all the apostles. |
108 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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My brethren! |
109 |
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PIERS. |
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Silence, the good priest speaks. |
110 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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My brethren, these are truths, and weighty ones: |
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Ye are all equal: nature made ye so. |
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Equality is your birth-right;—when I gaze |
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On the proud palace, and behold one man |
114 |
In the blood-purpled robes of royalty, |
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Feasting at ease, and lording over millions, |
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Then turn me to the hut of poverty, |
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And see the wretched lab'rer worn with toil, |
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Divide his scanty morsel with his infants, |
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I sicken, and indignant at the sight, |
120 |
" Blush for the patience of humanity." |
121 |
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JACK STRAW. |
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We will assert our rights. |
122 |
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TOM MILLER. |
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We'll trample down |
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These insolent oppressors. |
124 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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In good truth |
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Ye have cause for anger: but, my honest friends, |
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Is it revenge or justice that ye seek? |
127 |
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MOB. |
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Justice, justice! |
128 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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Oh then remember mercy; |
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And though your proud oppressors spar'd not you, |
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Shew you excel them in humanity. |
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They will use every art to disunite you, |
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To conquer separately, by stratagem, |
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Whom in a mass they fear— but be ye firm— |
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Boldly demand your long-forgotten rights, |
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Your sacred, your inalienable freedom— |
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Be bold—be resolute—be merciful! |
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And while you spurn the hated name of slaves, |
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Shew you are men! |
139 |
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MOB. |
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Long live our honest priest! |
140 |
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JACK STRAW. |
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He shall be made archbishop. |
141 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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My brethren, I am plain John Ball, your friend, |
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Your equal: by the law of Christ enjoined |
143 |
To serve you, not command. |
144 |
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JACK STRAW. |
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March we for London. |
145 |
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TYLER. |
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Mark me, my friends—we rise for liberty— |
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Justice shall be our guide: let no man dare |
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To plunder in the tumult. |
148 |
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MOB |
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Lead us on— |
149 |
Liberty!—Justice! |
150 |
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(Exeunt, with cries of Liberty— no Poll Tax — no War.) |
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SCENE CHANGES TO THE TOWER. |
150sd |
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KING RICHARD, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, |
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SIR JOHN TRESILIAN, |
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WALWORTH, PHILPOT. |
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KING |
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What must we do? the danger grows more imminent— |
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The mob increases— |
152 |
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PHILPOT. |
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Every moment brings |
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Fresh tidings of our peril. |
154 |
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KING. |
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It were well |
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To yield them what they ask. |
156 |
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ARCHBISHOP. |
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Aye, that my liege |
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Were politic. Go boldly forth to meet them, |
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Grant all they ask—however wild and ruinous— |
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Mean time the troops you have already summoned, |
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Will gather round them. Then my Christian power |
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Absolves you of your promise. |
162 |
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WALWORTH. |
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Were but their ringleaders cut off—the rabble |
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Would soon disperse. |
164 |
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PHILPOT. |
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United in a mass |
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There's nothing can resist them—once divide them, |
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And they will fall an easy sacrifice. |
167 |
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ARCHBISHOP. |
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Lull them by promises—bespeak them fair— |
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Go forth, my liege—spare not, if need requires, |
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A solemn oath, to ratify the treaty. |
171 |
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KING |
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I dread their fury. |
172 |
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ARCHBISHOP. |
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'Tis a needless dread, |
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There is divinity about your person; |
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It is the sacred privilege of Kings, |
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Howe'er they act, to render no account |
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To man. The people have been taught this lesson, |
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Nor can they soon forget it. |
178 |
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KING. |
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I will go— |
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I will submit to everything they ask; |
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My day of triumph will arrive at last. |
181 |
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(Shouts without.) |
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Enter Messenger. |
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MESSENGER. |
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The mob are at the city gates. |
182 |
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ARCHBISHOP. |
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Haste, haste, |
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Address them ere too late. I'll remain here, |
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For they detest me much. |
185 |
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(Shouts again. ) |
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Enter another Messenger. |
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MESSENGER. |
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The Londoners have opened the city gates, |
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The rebels are admitted. |
187 |
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KING. |
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Fear then must give me courage; my Lord Mayor, |
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Come you with me. |
189 |
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(Exeunt. Shouts without.) |
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SCENE— SMITHFIELD. |
189sd |
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WAT TYLER, JOHN BALL, PIERS, &c. Mob. |
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PIERS. |
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So far triumphant are we: how these nobles, |
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These petty tyrants, who so long oppress'd us, |
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Shrink at the first resistance! |
192 |
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HOB. |
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They were powerful |
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Only because we fondly thought them so. |
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Where is Jack Straw? |
195 |
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TYLER. |
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Jack Straw is gone to the tower |
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To seize the king, and so to end resistance. |
197 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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It was well judg'd: fain would I spare the shedding |
198 |
Of human blood: gain we that royal puppet, |
199 |
And all will follow fairly: depriv'd of him, |
200 |
The nobles lose their pretext, nor will dare |
201 |
Rebel against the people's majesty. |
202 |
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Enter Herald. |
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HERALD. |
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Richard the Second, by the grace of God, |
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Of England, Ireland, France, and Scotland, King, |
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And of the town of Berwick upon Tweed, |
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Would parley with Wat Tyler. |
206 |
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TYLER. |
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Let him know |
207 |
Wat Tyler is in Smithfield. |
208 |
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(Exit Herald.) |
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I will parley |
209 |
With this young monarch; as he comes to me |
210 |
Trusting my honour, on your lives I charge you |
211 |
Let none attempt to harm him. |
212 |
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JOHN BALL |
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The faith of courts |
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Is but a weak dependence! You are honest— |
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And better is it even to die the victim |
215 |
Of credulous honesty, than live preserved |
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By the cold policy that still suspects. |
217 |
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Enter KING, WALWORTH, PHILPOT, &c. |
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KING. |
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I would speak to thee, Wat Tyler: bid the mob |
218 |
Retire awhile. |
219 |
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PIERS. |
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Nay, do not go alone— |
220 |
Let me attend you. |
221 |
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TYLER. |
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Wherefore should I fear? |
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Am I not arm'd with a just cause?—retire, |
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And I will boldly plead the cause of Freedom. |
224 |
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(Advances.) |
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KING. |
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Tyler, why have you kill'd my officer? |
225 |
And led my honest subjects from their homes, |
226 |
Thus to rebel against the Lord's anointed? |
227 |
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TYLER. |
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Because they were oppress'd. |
228 |
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KING. |
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Was this the way |
229 |
To remedy the ill?— you should have tried |
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By milder means—petition'd at the throne— |
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The throne will always listen to petitions. |
232 |
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TYLER. |
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King of England, |
233 |
Petitioning for pity is most weak, |
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The sovereign people ought to demand justice. |
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I kill'd your officer, for his lewd hand |
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Insulted a maid's modesty: your subjects |
237 |
I lead to rebel against the Lord's anointed, |
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Because his ministers have made him odious: |
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His yoke is heavy, and his burden grievous. |
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Why do we carry on this fatal war, |
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To force upon the French a king they hate; |
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Tearing our young men from their peaceful homes; |
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Forcing his hard-earn'd fruits from the honest peasant; |
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Distressing us to desolate our neighbours? |
245 |
Why is this ruinous poll tax imposed, |
246 |
But to support your court's extravagance, |
247 |
And your mad title to the crown of France? |
248 |
Shall we sit tamely down beneath these evils |
249 |
Petitioning for pity? |
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King of England! |
251 |
Why are we sold like cattle in your markets— |
252 |
Deprived of every privilege of man? |
253 |
Must we lie tamely at our tyrant's feet, |
254 |
And, like your spaniels, lick the hand that beats us? |
255 |
You sit at ease in your gay palaces, |
256 |
The costly banquet courts your appetite, |
257 |
Sweet music sooths your slumbers; we the while, |
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Scarce by hard toil can earn a little food, |
259 |
And sleep scarce shelter'd from the cold night wind: |
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Whilst your wild projects wrest the little from us |
261 |
Which might have cheer'd the wintry hour of age: |
262 |
The Parliament for ever asks more money: |
263 |
We toil and sweat for money for your taxes: |
264 |
Where is the benefit, what food reap we |
265 |
From all the councils of your government? |
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Think you that we should quarrel with the French? |
267 |
What boots to us your victories, your glory? |
268 |
We pay, we fight, you profit at your ease. |
269 |
Do you not claim the country as your own? |
270 |
Do you not call the venison of the forest, |
271 |
The birds of heaven your own?—prohibiting us, |
272 |
Even tho' in want of food, to seize the prey |
273 |
Which nature offers?—King! is all this just? |
274 |
Think you we do not feel the wrongs we suffer? |
275 |
The hour of retribution is at hand, |
276 |
And tyrants tremble—mark me, King of England. |
277 |
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WALWORTH. |
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(Comes behind him, and stabs him.) |
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Insolent rebel, threatening the King! |
278 |
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PIERS. |
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Vengeance! vengeance! |
279 |
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HOB. |
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Seize the King. |
280 |
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KING. |
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I must be bold. (Advancing.) |
281 |
My friends and loving subjects, |
282 |
I will grant all you ask: you shall be free— |
283 |
The tax shall be repeal'd— all, all you wish. |
284 |
Your leader menaced me, he deserv'd his fate. |
285 |
Quiet your angers; on my royal word |
286 |
Your grievances shall all be done away. |
287 |
Your vassalage abolish'd.—A free pardon |
288 |
Allow'd to all: so help me God it shall be. |
289 |
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JOHN BALL. |
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Revenge, my brethren, beseems not Christians. |
290 |
Send us these terms sign'd with your seal of state. |
291 |
We will await in peace: deceive us not.— |
292 |
Act justly, so to excuse your late foul deed. |
293 |
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KING. |
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The charter shall be drawn out: on mine honour, |
294 |
All shall be justly done. |
295 |
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END OF ACT THE SECOND. |
295sd |
Textual Notes
75 So taught the Saviour:
See Matthew 19:21-22, which tells the story of the rich young man: "Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me. But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful: for he had great possessions."
93 pronounc'd that it was very good:
Recalling Genesis 1, which gives an account of the Biblical creation including God's judgment on what he had created: he "saw that it was good."
108 There was never a bishop among all the apostles:
The status of bishops in the church of Protestant England was much contested, and bishops were seen often as representatives of unwanted and unsanctioned hierarchy. Hob's statement, expressing that there were no bishops in the original church established by Christ, was often used as an argument against them. In the years following the French Revolution, British radicals opposed hierarchy in most of its forms, though still fearing mob rule.
136 Your sacred, your inalienable freedom:
Southey's use of the phrase "inalienable freedom" in Wat Tyler is anachronistic. The Oxford English Dictionary places the earliest uses of "unalienable" and "inalienable" in the early seventeenth century. Southey here echoes the language of the American Declaration of Independence (1776) and Thomas Paine's Rights of Man (1791-2).
150 Sir John Tresilian:
The King's sergeant at the beginning of Richard II's reign, made chief justice in 1381. He tried the Essex rebels at Chelmsford, and on July 14 he tried and sentenced John Ball. In 1387 he was hanged at Tyburn for treason.
150 Philpot:
Sir John Philpot (also Philipot, died 1384) was a wealthy merchant and a member of the Grocers' Company of London. With Nicholas Brembre and William Walworth, he headed the opposition to John of Gaunt. In 1377, Philpot and Walworth were appointed as joint-treasurers for the taxes collected for the war efforts in France. He and Walworth loaned the King a substantial sum of money against the security of several crowns and royal jewels. Mayor of London 1378-9, Philpot was knighted for his subsequent involvement in the suppression of the rebels in 1381.
161 Then my Christian power:
Here the Archbishop offers absolution for the King while advising him to break his promise.
175 sacred privilege of Kings:
Referring to the doctrine of the divine right of kings, which held that kings received their authority from God at birth, were representatives of God on earth, and were answerable only to God.
186 city gates:
Referring to London's seven gates: Ludgate, Newgate, Aldersgate, Cripplegate, Moorgate, Bishopsgate, Aldgate.
240 His yoke is heavy:
Invoking Matthew 11:28-30: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
268 boots:
matters.
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