THE FIRST AND SECOND parts of King Edward the fourth.  
Containing his merry pastime with the Tanner of Tamwoorth, as also his love to fair Mistress Shore, her great promotion, fall and misery, and lastly the lamentable death of both her and her husband.  
Enter King Edward, the Duchess of York, the Queen, the Lord Howard, and sir Thomas Sellinger. Duchess. 
son, I tell ye you have done you know not what:  King. 
I have married a woman, else I am deceived mother.  Dutch. 
Married a woman? married indeed,  
Here is a marriage that befits a King:  
It is no matudile it was done in haste,  
Here is a Bridal and with hell to boot,  
You have made work?  King. 
Faith mother some we have indeed, but ere long you shall see us make work for an heir apparent I doubt not, nay, nay, come-come, Gods will what chiding still  Dutch. 
O God that e'er I lived to see this day.  King. 
By my faith mother, I hope you shall see the night too, and in the morning I will be bold to bid you to the christening Grandmother, and Godmother to a Prince of Wales, tut mother, 'tis a stirring world.  Dutch. 
Have you sent Warwick into France for this?  King. 
No by my faith mother I sent Warwick into France for another, but this by chance being nearer hand, and coming in the way I cannot tell how, we concluded, and now (as you see) are going about to get a young King.  Dutch. 
But tell me son how will you answer this?  
be't possible your rash unlawful act,  
Should not breed mortal hate betwixt the Realms  
What may the French King think when he shall hear  
That whilst you send to entreat about his daughter,  
Basely to take a subject of your own?  
What may the Princess Bona think of this?  
Our noble cousin Warwick that great Lord,  
That Center-shaking thunderclap of war,  
That like a Colum propped the house of York:  
And boar our white Rose bravely in his top,  
When he shall hear his embassage abuser,  
In this but made an instrument by you,  
I know his soul will blush within his bosom,  
And shame will sit in Scarlet on his Brew,  
To have his honor touched with this foul blemish  
Son, son I tell you that is done by you,  
Which yet the child that is unborn shall rue.  King. 
Tush mother you are deceived, all true subjects shall have cause to thank God, to have their King borne of a true English woman, I tell you it was never well since we matched with strangers, so our children have been still like Chickens of the half kind but where the rock and the hen be both of one breed, there is like to be birds of the game: hear you mother, hear you, had I gone to it by fortune, I had made your sons George and Dick to have stood gaping after the crown: this wench mother is a widow, and hath made proof of her valour, and for any thing I know, I am as like to do the deed as John Grey her husband was, I had rather the people prayed to bless mine heir, then selide me an heir: hold your peace, if you can see, there was never mother had a to warder son, why cousin Howard and Tom Sellinger heard you ever such a coil about a wife?  How. 
My sovereign Lord with patience bear her 'splain  
Your princely mother's zeal is like a river,  
That from the free abundance of the waters,  
Breaks out into this inundation,  
From her abundant care this rage proceeds,  
O'er swollen with the extremity of love.  Sel. 
My Lord, my Lord, avoid a woman's humour,  
If you resist this tumour of her will,  
Here you shall have her dwell upon this passion,  
Until she lade and dull our ears again:  
Seem you but sorry for what you have done,  
And straight she'll put the finger in the eye,  
With comfort now, since it cannot be helped:  
But make you show to justify the act  
If ever other language in her lips,  
Then out upon it, it is abominable, I dare be hanged,  
Say any thing it makes no matter what,  
Than thus be wearied with a woman's chat.  Dutch. 
ay, ay, you are the spaniels of the Court,  
And thus you fawn and soothe your wanton king,  
But Edward hadst thou prized thy majesty,  
Thou never wouldst have stained thy princely state,  
with the base leavings of a subjects bed:  
Nor borne the blemish of her Bigamy.  
A widow, be't not a goodly thing?  
Gray's children come ask blessing of the King.  Qu. 
Nay I beseech your Grace my Lady York,  
Even as you are a Princess and a widow,  
Think not so meanly of my widowhood,  
A spotless virgin came I first to Grey,  
With him I lived a true and faithful wife:  
And since his high imperial majesty,  
Hath pleased to bless my poor dejected state  
With the high Sovereign title of his Queen,  
I here protest before the host of heaven,  
I came as chaste a widow to his bed,  
As when a virgin I to Grey was wed.  King. 
Come, come have done, now have you chid enough, God's foot, we were as merry ere she came, as any people in Christendom, I with the mistress, and these with the maids: only we have no fiddlers at our feast, but mother you have made a fit of mirth: welcome to Grafton mother, by my troth you are even just come as I wished you here, let us go to supper, and in Charity give us your blessing ere we go to Bed.  Dutc. 
O Edward, Edward, fly and leave this place,  
Wherein poor Gllie King thou art enchanted,  
This is her dam of Bedford's work her mother,  
That hath bewitched thee Edward my poor child,  
Dishonour not the Princes of thy land,  
To make the them kneel with reverence at her feet,  
That ere thou dost empale with sovereignty,  
They would have scorned to have looked upon,  
There's no such difference twixt the greatest Peer,  
And the poor silliest kitchen maid that lives,  
Aais bet wirt thy worthiness and hers.  Quee. 
I do confess it, yet my Lady York,  
My mother is a duchess as you are,  
A Princess borne, the Duke of Bedford's wife,  
And as you know, a daughter and a sister,  
Unto the royal blood of burgundy.  
But you cannot so basely think on me,  
As I do think of these vain worldly titles,  
God from soul my sin as far divide.  
As I am far from boasting in this pride,  Selling. 
Madam, she is the mirror of her kind,  
Had she but so much spleen as hath a gnat,  
Her spirits would startle to abide your taunts,  
She is a Saint, and Madam you blaspheme,  
to wrong so sweet a Lady.  Duch. 
Thou art a minion and a flatterer.  Sellin. 
Madam but that you are my sovereign's mother,  
I would let you know you wrong a Gentleman,  Howard. 
Good cousin Sellinger have patience,  
Her grace's rage by too much violence,  
Hath spent itself already into air:  
Dear Madam I beseeth you on my knee,  
Tender that loving kindness to the Queen,  
That I dare swear she doth in soul to you.  Edw. 
Well said good coz, I pray thee make them friends, why how now Bess, what weep? nay then i'll chide you: what sudden news comes by this messenger?  Enter a Messenger. Mes. 
My sovereign Lord, the bastard Falconbridge,  
Of late hath stirred rebellion in the South,  
Encouraging his forces to deliver,  
King henry late deposed out of the Tower,  
To him the malcontented commons flock,  
From every part of Sussex, Kent, and Esier,  
His army waxed twenty thousand strong.  
And as it is supposed by circumstance,  
Mean to take London, if not well defended.  Ed. 
Well let this Phaeton that is mounted thus,  
Look he sit surely, or by England's George,  
I'll break his neck, this is no new evasion,  
I surely thought that one day I should see,  
That bastard Falcon take his wings to mount,  
Into our Eagle airy, methought I saw,  
Black discontent sit ever on his brow,  
And now I see I calculated well,  
Good cousin Howard, and Tom Sellinger,  
This night we'll spend in feast and jollity,  
With our new Queen, and our beloved mother,  
Tomorrow you shall have commission,  
To raise up power against this haughty rebel:  
Sirrah depart not till you know our pleasure,  
You shall convey us letters back to London,  
Unto the Maior, Recorder, and our friends,  
Is supper ready? come by my bonny Bess,  
Welcome mother, we are all your guests.  Exeunt. Enter Falconbridge with his troops marching, Spicing, Smoke, Chub, and others. Fal. 
Hold drum,  1. Spi. 
Hold drum and be hanged,  2. Smoke. 
Hold drum hold, peace then ho, silence to the 3 proclamation.  1. Spi. 
You lie you rogue, 'tis to the Oration,  Chub. 
Nay then you all lie, it is to the coblication,  Fal. 
True hearted English and our valiant friends,  all. 
Do brave general i'faith.  Spi. 
Peace there you rogues, or I will split your chaps:  Fal. 
De are countrymen, I publicly proclaim,  
If any wronged discontented English,  
Touched with true feeling of King Hens wrongs,  
henry the firt the lawful King of England,  
Who by that tyrant Edward the usurper,  
Is held a wretched prisoner in the Lower,  
If any man that fain would be enfranchised,  
From the sad yoke of Yorkish servitude,  
Under which we toil like naked galley-slaves,  
Know he that Thomas Nevill the Lord Falconbridge:  all. 
I &, a Falconbridge a falconbridge:  Spi. 
Peace ye clamorous rogues, on General on with poor  
Oration, peace there,  Fal. 
Pitying King Henry's poor distressed case,  
Armed with his title, and a subjects zeal,  
Takes up just arms against the house of Yorks:  
And do proclaim our ancient liberty:  all. 
Liberty, liberty, liberty, general liberty.  Fal. 
We do not rise like Tiler, Cade, and Straw,  
Blewbeard, & other of that rascal rout,  
Bascly like Linkers, or such muddle slaves,  
For mending measures, or the price of corn,  
Or for some common in the wild of Kent,  
That's by some greedy Cormorant enclosed:  
But in the true and ancient lawful right,  
Of the redoubted house of Lancaster.  
Our blood is noble, by our birth a Nevill,  
And by our lawful line Lord Falconbridge,  
whose's here that's of so dull a leaden temper,  
That is not fired with a Nevil's name?  All. 
A Nevill, a Nevill, a Nevill.  Fa. 
Our quarrel like ourself is honourable,  
The law our warrant.  Smoke. 
ay, ay, the law is on our side.  Chub. 
ay, the law is in our own hands,  Spi. 
Peace you rogues.  Fal. 
And more, a blessing by the word proposed,  
To those that aid a true anointed King,  
Courage brave spirits and cry a Falconbridge,  All. 
A Falconbridge, a Falconbridge.  Fal. 
We will be masters of the mint ourselves,  
And set our own stamp on the golden coin:  
we'll shoe our neighing coursers with no worse  
Than the purest silver that is sold in Cheap.  
At Leaden hall we'll sell pearls by the peck,  
As now the mealemen use to sell their meal:  
In Westminster we'll keep a solemn court,  
And build it bigger to receive our men,  
Cry Falconbridge my heart's liberty,  All. 
Falconbridge and liberty, &c.  Smoke. 
Peace ye slaves, or I will smoke ye else,  Chub. 
Peace ye slaves, or I will chub your chaps, but indeed thou mayst well smoke them, because thy name is Smoke.  Smoke. 
Why sirrah, I hope Smoke the Smith of Chepsted, is as good a man as Chubb the Chandler of Sandwich.  Spicing. 
Peace ye rogues, what are you quarreling? and now list to Captain Spicing.  
You know Cheapside there are the mercer's shops,  
Where we will measure velvet by the pikes:  
And Silks and satins by the streets whole breadth:  
we'll take the Tankards from the Conduit cocks,  
To fill with hippocras and drink carouse.  
Where chains of gold and plate shall be as plenty,  
As wooden dishes in the wild of Kent:  Smoke. 
Oh bravely said Ned Spicing, the honestest Lad that ever pounded spice in a mortar, now speaks Captain Smoke.  
Look Lads for from this hill ye may discern,  
The lovely town which we are marching to,  
That same is London Lads ye look upon,  
Range all a-row my hearts and stand at gaze,  
As do the herds of Dear at some strange sight:  
Or as a troop of hungry travelers,  
That fire their eyes upon a furmentied feast,  
Look how the Tower doth 'tice us to come on,  
To take out Henry the sixth there prisoner,  
See how S. Katherine's smokes, wipe slaves your eyes  
And whet your stomachs for the good malt pies.  Chub. 
Why then belike I am nobody: room and avoidance, for now speaks Captain Chubb:  
No sooner in London will we be,  
But the Bakers for you, the Brewers for me,  
Birchin lane shall suit us, the costermonger's fruit us:  
The Poulters send us in soul,  
And butcher's meat without control:  
And ever when we sup or dine,  
The Vintners freely bring us in wine:  
If anybody ask who shall pay,  
Cut off his head and send him away.  
This is Captain Chubb's law whosoever say nay.  Fal. 
Bravely resolved, so march we forward all,  
And boldly say, good luck shall us befall.  Exeunt. Enter the Lord Maior, M. Shoare. M. josseline, in their velvet coats, and gorgets, and leading staves. Ma. 
This is well done, thus should good Citizens,  
Fashion themselves as well for war as peace:  
Have ye commanded that in every street,  
They hang forth lights as soon as night comes one  
Say Colin Shore that was referred to you.  
Shore 〈◊〉 have my Lord, beside from every hall  
There is at least two hundred men in arms.  Ma. 
It cheers my heart to hear this readiness,  
Let never rebels put true Subjects down,  
Come when they will, their welcome shall be such,  
As they had better kept them further off.  
But where is M. Recorder? his advise,  
Must not be wanting in these high affairs.  Sho. 
About an hour ago, and somewhat more,  
I left him fortifying the bridge my Lord,  
Which done he purposed to meet you here:  Ma. 
A discreet painful Gentleman he is,  
And we must all of us be so inclined:  
If we intend to have the City safe,  
Or look for thanks, and credit with the King,  
I tell ye masters, aged though I be,  
I (for my part) will to no bed this night.  Ioss. 
Why is it thought the Bastard is so near?  Ma. 
How mean ye M. josseline by near?  
He neither comes from Italy nor Spain:  
But out of Kent, and Essex which you know,  
Are both so near, as nearer cannot be.  Ioss. 
Nay, by your patience good my Lord a word,  
Simple though I am, yet I must confess,  
A mischief further off, would, and so forth,  
You know my meaning, things not seen before,  
Are, and so forth, yet in good sadness,  
I would that all were well, and perchance,  
It may be so, what, were it not for hope,  
The heart, and so forth, but to the matter,  
You mean and purpose, ay, ay, am sure ye do?  Ma. 
Well M. josseline, we are sure ye mean well  
Although somewhat defective in your utterance.  Ios. 
ay, ay, my Lord Maior, I am you know,  
Willing ready, & so forth, tut, tut, for me, ha, ha,  
My Manston is at Ham, and thence you know,  
I come to help you in this needful time:  
When rebels are so busy, and so forth,  
What masters, age must never be despised,  
You shall find me my Lord, still, and so forth.  Enter Urswick the Recorder. Sho. 
My Lord, now here comes M. Recorder.  Re. 
Good even my good Lord Maior, the streets are chained,  
The bridge well manned & every place prepared,  
Shall we now go together and consult.  
What else there is to be determined of?  Ma. 
Your coming M. Recorder was the thing  
We all desired, therefore let us consult,  
And now what say ye, if with half our power,  
we issue forth, and give the rebels fight?  Recor. 
Before they do provoke us nearer hand  
There were no way to that, if all be pleased,  
What's your opinion M. josseline?  Ios. 
Good sooth my L. Maior, and M. Recorder,  
You may take your choice, but in my conceit,  
Issue if you will, or else stay if you will,  
A man can never be too wary and so forth,  
Yet as to issue will not be the worst,  
Even so to tarry, well, you may think more on't,  
But all is one, we shall be sure to fight,  
And you are wise enough, to see your time, ay, ay, a God's name.  Rec. 
My Lord accept his meaning better than his counsel.  Ma. 
ay, so we do, or else we were to blame,  
What if we stop the passage of the Thames,  
With such provision as we have of ships?  Recor. 
Its doubtful yet my Lord, whether the rebels,  
Purpose that way to seek our detriment,  
Rather me seemeth they will come by land,  
And either make assault at London bridge,  
Or else at Algate, both which entrances,  
Were good they should be strongly fortified.  Ios. 
Well said master Recorder, you do, I I, isle warrant  Recor. 
As for the other, the whole companies  
Of Mercers, Grocers, Drapers, and the rest,  
Are drawn together for their best defence,  
Beside the Tower, a neighbour to that place,  
As on the one side it will clear the river,  
So on the other with their ordinance,  
It may repulse and beat them from the gate,  Ma. 
What noise is this? provide ye suddenly:  A noise within. 
And every man betake him to his charge.  Enter a Messenger. Sho. 
Soft who is this, how now my friend what news?  Mes. 
My master the Lieutenant of the Tower, gives ye to understand, he hath descried the army of the rebels.  Recor. 
Which may come they?  Mes. 
From Essexward, and therefore 'tis his mind,  
You guard both Algate well, and Bishopsgate.  Ma. 
Saint George away, and let us all resolve,  
Either to vanquish this rebellious rout,  
Preserve our goods, our children and our wives,  
Or seal our resolution with our lives.  Exeunt. Enter Falconbridge, Spicing, with his troops. Fal. 
Summon the City, and command our entrance,  
Which if we shall be stubbornly denied,  
Our power shall rush like thunder through the walls,  Spi. 
Open your gates slaves when I command ye,  
Spicing beats on the gates, and then enters the Lord Maior and his associates with prentices.  Ma 
What's he that beats thus at the City gates,  
commanding entrance as he were a King?  Fa. 
He that will have releasement for a King:  
I Thomas Nevell the Lord Falconbridge.  Spi 
Ha sirrah, you, clapper, ●che, bolt,  
Or I'll bolt you if I get in, stand you preaching with a poor?  Ma. 
We have no warrant I ho. Falconbridge,  
To let your armed troops into our City,  
Considering you have taken up these arms,  
Against our sovereign and our country's peace.  Fal. 
I tell thee Mawr, and know he tells thee so,  
That cometh armed in a king's defence,  
That I crave entrance in Kings Henry's name,  
In right of the true line of Lancaster,  
methinks that word spoke from a Nevil's mouth  
Should like an earthquake rend your chained gates,  
And tear in pieces your portcullises,  
I thunder it again into you ears,  
You stout and brave courageous Londoners,  
In Henry's name I crave my entrance in.  R. 
Should Henry's name command thee entrance here  
We should deny allegiance unto Edward,  
Whose true and faithful subjects we are sworn,  
And in whose presence is our sword up borne.  Fal. 
I tell thee traitor than thou bear'st thy sword  
Against thy true undoubted King.  Sho. 
Nay then I tell thee bastard Falconbridge,  
My Lord Major bears his sword in his defence,  
That put the sword into the arms of London,  
Made the Lord majors for ever after Knights,  
Richard, deposed... henry Bolingbroke,  
From whom the house of York doth claim their right.  Fal. 
What's he that answers us thus saucily  Smo. 
Sirrah your name, that we may know ye hereafter,  Sho. 
My name is Shore, a Goldsmith by my trade,  Fal. 
What not that Shore that hath the dainty wife,  
shores wife, the flower of London for her beauty.  Sho. 
Yes rebel even the very same.  Spi. 
Run rascal and fetch thy wife to our General presently, or else all the Gold in Cheapside cannot ransom her: wilt thou not stir when I bid thee.  Fal. 
Shore listen me, thy wise is mine that's flat,  
This night in thine own house she sleeps with me,  
Now Crosbie Lord Maior shall we enter in?  Ma. 
Crosbie the Lord Maior tells thee proud rebel no.  Fal. 
No Crosbie shall I not: then doting Lord,  
I cram the name of rebel down thy throat,  
There's not the poorest rascal of my camp,  
But if he chance to meet thee in Cheapside  
Upon thy foot-cloth, he shall make thee light,  
And hold his stirrup while he mount thy horse,  
Than lackey him which way he please to go,  
Crosbie I'll make the Citizens be glad,  
To send thee and the Aldermen thy brethren,  
All manacled, and chained like Galley slaves,  
To ransom them, and to redeem the City.  M. 
Nay then proud rebel, pause & hear me speak,  
There's not the poorest and meanest Citizen,  
That is a faithful subject to the King.  
But in despite of thy rebellious rout,  
Shall walk to Bow, a small wand in his hand  
Although thou lie encamped at Mile-end Green,  
And not the proudest rebel of you all,  
Shall dare to touch him for his damned soul.  
Come, we will pull up our portcullises,  
And let me see thee enter if thou dare.  Fal. 
Spoken like a man, and true Velvet jacket,  
And we will enter or strike by the way.  Exeunt. Enter Lord Major, Recorder, and Josseline. Ma. 
Where's master Recorder, and master josseline?  Recor. 
Here my Lord Maior, we now have mand the walls, and fortified such places as were needful,  Ma. 
Why it is well, brothers and Citizens,  
Stick to your City as good men should do,  
Think that in Richard's time even such a rebel,  
Was then by Walworth the L. Maior of London,  
Stabbed dead in Smithfield:  
Then show yourselves as it be fits the time.  
And let this find a hundredth Walworth, now,  
Dare stab a rebel were he made of brass,  
And Prentices stick to your officers,  
For you may come to be as we are now,  
God and our King against an arrant rebel,  
Brothers away, let us defend our walls:  1. Pren 
My Lord your words are able to infuse,  
A double courage in a coward's breast,  
Then fear not us although our chins be bare,  
Our hearts are good, the trial shall be seen,  
Against these rebels on this champion green.  2. Pre. 
We have no tricks nor policies of war,  
But by the ancient custom of our Fathers,  
we'll soundly lay it on, takte off that will.  
And London Prentices be ruled by me,  
Die ere ye lose fair London's liberty.  S. 
How now my flatcaps, are you grown so brave?  
'tis but your words, when matters come to propose  
You'll scud as 'twere a company of sheep,  
My counsel therefore is to keep your shops,  
What lack you, better will beseem your mouths,  
Than terms of war, in sooth you are too young:  Pr. 
Sirrah go too, you shall not find it so,  
Flatcaps thou call'st us, we scorn not the name,  
And shortly by the virtue of our swords,  
we'll make your cap so sit unto your crown,  
As sconce and cap and all kiss the ground.  2. Pr. 
You are those desperate idle swaggering mates,  
That haunt the suburbs in the time of peace,  
And raise up alehouse brawls in the street,  
And when the rumor of the war begins,  
You hide your heads, and are not to be found,  
Thou termest it better that we keep our shops,  
It's good indeed we should have such a care,  
But yet for all our keeping now and then,  
Your pilfering fingers break into our locks,  
Until at Tyburn you acquit the fault:  
Go to, albeit by custom we are mild,  
As those that do profess civility,  
Yet being moved, a nest of angry hornets  
Shall not be more offensive then we will,  
we'll fly about your ears and sting your hearts.  Ioss. 
He tells you truth my friends, and so forth.  Fa. 
Who can endure to be so vrauce by boys?  1. Pr. 
Nay scorn us not that we are Prentices,  
The Chronicles of England can report,  
What memorable actions we have done,  
To which this days achievement shall be knit,  
To make the volume larger than it is.  Ma. 
Now of mine honour, ye do cheer my heart  
Brave English offsprings, valiantly resolved.  2. Pre. 
My Lord return you back, let us alone,  
You are our Masters, give us leave to work,  
And if we do not vanquish them in fight,  
Let us go supperless to bed at night.  Exeunt all but Spicing, Smoke, and their crew. Spi. Sm. 
Get thee up on the top of S. Buttolph's steeple, and make a proclamation.  Smoke. 
What a plague should I proclaim there?  Spi. 
That the hells be rung backward,  
And cutting of throats be cried havoc,  
No more calling of lantern and candlelight,  
That maidenheads be valued at just nothing:  
And Sack be sold by the Salad.  
That no piddling slave stand to pick a lock, but slash me off the hinges, as one would slit up a cows paunch.  Spicing. 
Let no man have less than a warehouse to his wardrobe: cry a fig for a Sergeant, and walk by the Counter like a Lord, pluck out the clapper of Bow bell, and hang up all the Sextons in the City.  Smoke. 
Rantam-scantam, Rogues follow your leader, Cavalero Spicing the maddest slave that ere pund spice in a mortar.  Spi. 
Take me an Usurer by the greasy pouch, and shake out his Crowns, as a hungry dog would shake a haggis, Bar foul play Rogues, and live by honest filching and stealing, he that hath a true finger, let him forfeit his face to the frying-pan.  
Follow your Leader Rogues, follow your Leader.  Smoke. 
Assault, Assault, and cry a Falconbridge.  josseline on the walls cries to them. Ios. 
Sirrah Spicing, if Spicing be thy name, we are here for matters and causes as it might ●me for the King, therefore it were good, and so forth.  Spi. 
Open the gates, or if we be the picklocks, ye Rogues we'll play the Mastiff dogs amongst you: If I worry not a thousand of you with my teeth, let me be hanged in a packthread, and so forth.  Ios. 
Fond fellow, justice is to be used, I marry is it, and law in some sort as it were is to be followed, oh God forbid else, this our Magistrate hath power as might seem, and so forth, for duty is to be observed, and Officers must be obeyed, in sort and calling, and so forth.  Spi. 
we'll talk more anon, good M. and so forth.  Here is a very fierce assault on all sides, wherein the Prentices do great service. Enter Falconbridge angry with his men. Fal. 
Why this it is to trust to these base Rogues.  
This dirty scum of rascal peasantry:  
This heartless rout of base rascality;  
A plague upon you all, you cowardly Rogues;  
You cravand curs, you say muddy clowns,  
Whose courage but consists in multitude,  
Like sheep and neat that follow one another,  
Which if one run away, all follow after:  
This hedge-bred rascal, this filthy fry of ditches,  
A vengeance take you all, this 'tis to lead you,  
Now do you cry and shriek at every shock,  
A hot consuming mischief follow you.  Spi. 
'swounds scale rogues, scale, a Falconbridge, a Falconbridge.  Enter Lord Maior and histraine. Ma. 
Set open the gates, nay then we'll sally out,  
It never shall be said when I was Maior,  
The Londoners were shut up in the City,  
Then cry King Edward, and let's us issue out.  Fal. 
Now if ye be true hearted Englishmen,  
The gates set open and the portcullis up:  
Let's Pel Mell in, to stop their passage out,  
He that first enters, be possessed of Cheap,  
I give him it freely, and the chiefest wench.  Spi. 
That he can find, let that lie in the bargain.  Exeunt. The Lord Maior and the Citizens having valiantly repulsed the Rebels from the City: Enters Falconbridge and Spicing and their train wounded and dismayed. Spi. 
Hear'st thou General, there's hot drinking at the mouth of Bishopsgate, for our soldiers are all Mouth, they lie like Rascals with their brains beaten out, therefore since we are all like to feed hogs in Houndsditch, let us retire our troops, and save our maimed men, or if we issue further, we are put to the sword every mother's son of us.  Fal. 
Art thou that villain in whose damned mouth,  
Was never heard of any word but wounds?  
Whose recreant limbs are notched with gaping scars,  
Thicker than any carking craftman's score,  
Whose very scalp is scratched and crazed and broken,  
Like an old mazzer beaten on the stones,  
And standest thou now to save our maimed men?  
A plague upon thee coward.  Spi. 
Why how now base Thomas? 'swounds, wert thou a base Vial, thou art but a rascal and a rebel as I am, hearest thou, if I do not turn true subject and leave thee, let me be worried with dogs, 'swounds dost thou impeach my manhood? Tom Nevill thou hadst as good to have damned thyself as uttered such a word, flatly I forsake thee, and all that love Ned Spicing follow me.  Here the rest offer to follow. Fal. 
Come come ye testy soul, thou seest me grieved,  
Yet canst not bear with mine infirmity,  
Thou knowest I hold thee for as tall a man  
As any lives or breathes our English air,  
I know there lives not a more fiery spirit,  
A more resolved dalliant, a plague upon it,  
Thou knowest I love thee, yet if a word escape  
My lips in anger, how tasty than thou art?  
I had rather all men left me then thyself,  
Thou art my soul, thou art my Genius:  
I cannot live without thee not an hour,  
Thus must I still be forced against my will,  aside, 
To soothe this dirty slave, this cowardly rascal.  
Come, come be friends, ye tasty firebrand,  
We must retire there is no remedy.  Spi. 
Nay Tom, if thou wilt have me mount on the walls,  
And cast myself down headlong on their pikes,  
He do it, but to impeach my valour,  
Had any man but thou spoke half so much,  
I would have spilled his heart, still be ware  
My valour, such words go hardly down,  
Well, I am friends, thou thoughtest not as thou spak'st.  Fal. 
No on my soul, thou thinkest not that I did,  
Sound a retreat there I command ye straight,  
But whither shall we retire  Spi. 
To Mile-end Green, there's no fitter place.  Fal. 
Then let us back retire to Mile-end Green,  
And there expect fresh succour from our friends,  
With such supply as shall ere long assure  
The city is our own, march on, away.  Exeunt. Enter the L. Maior with his train and Prentices. Maior. 
Ye have bestead ye like good Citizens,  
And she wne yourselves true subjects to your king,  
You worthily prentice bestirred yourselves,  
That it did there my heart to see your valour,  
The rebels are retired to Mileend Green,  Re. 
Where so we may not suffer them to rest.  
But issue forth upon them with fresh force.  los. 
My L. Maior, diligence doth well, and so forth. Matters must be looked into as they ought, indeed should they, when things are well done, they are, and so forth, for causes and things must indeed be looked into.  Ma. 
Well sir, we very well conceive your meaning,  
And you have shown yourself a worthy gentleman:  
See that our walls be kept with courts of guard,  
And well defended against the enemy,  
For we will now withdraw us to Guildhall,  
To take advise what further must be done.  Exeunt. Enter Master Shoare and janc his wife. Shore. 
Be not afraid (sweet heart) the worst is past,  
God have the praise, the victory is ours,  
We have prevailed, the rebels are repulsed,  
And every street of London soundeth joy,  
Canst thou then (gentle janc) be sad alone?  Ianc. 
I am not sad now you are here with me,  
My toy, my hope, my comfort, and my love,  
My dear, dear husband, kindest Mathew shore,  
But when these arms the circles of my soul,  
Were in the fight so forward as I heard,  
How could I choose, sweet heart, but be afraid?  Sho. 
Why dost thou tremble now, when peril's past  Ia. 
I think upon the horror of the tune,  
But tell me why you fought so desperately?  Sho. 
First to maintain King Edward's royalty,  
Next to defend the City's liberty,  
But chiefly ta'en to keep thee from the foil,  
Of him that to my face did how thy spoil,  
Had he prevailed, where then had been our lives,  
Dishonoured our daughters, ravished our fair wives,  
Possessed our goods, and set our servants free,  
Yet all this nothing to the loss of thee.  Ia. 
Of me sweet heart? why how should I be lost?  
Were I by thousand storms of fortune tossed?  
And should endure the poorest wretched life,  
Yet jane will be thy honest loyal wife,  
The greatest Prince the sun did ever see,  
Shall never make me prove untrue to thee:  Sh. 
I fear not fair means, but a rebel's force,  Ia. 
These hands shall make this body a dead corpse,  
ere force or flattery shall mine honour stain,  Sh. 
True fame survives, when death the flesh hath slain.  Enter an Officer from the Lord Maior. Of. 
God save ye master Shore, and mistress by your leave,  
Sir my L. Maior sends for ye by Major,  
And prates your speedy presence at Guildhall,  
There's news the rebels have made head again,  
And have ensconced themselves upon Mile-end,  
And presently our armed men must out,  
You being Captain of two companies  
In honour of your valour and your skill,  
Must lead the vaward, God & right stand with ye.  Sh. 
Friend tell my Lord i'll wait upon him straight.  Ia. 
Friend tell my Lord he does my husband wrong,  
To set him foremost in the danger still,  
Ye shall not go if I may have my will,  S. 
Peace wife, no more, friend I will follow ye,  Exit. Ia. 
i'faith ye shall not, prithee do not go.  Sh. 
Not go sweet heart? that were a coward's trick,  
A traitor's part to shrink when others fight,  
Envy shall never say that Mathew Shore  
The Goldsmith stayed, when other men went out,  
To meet his Kings and country's enemy,  
No jane 'gainst all the rebels on Mile-end,  
I dare alone K. Edward's right defend.  Ia. 
If you be slain, what shall become of me?  Sh. 
Kite well my wench, I now will marry thee,  
I leave thee worth at least five thousand pound.  Ia. 
Marry again. that word my heart doth wound,  
I'll never marry, nor I will not live,  She weeps. 
If thou be killed, let me go with thee Mat.  Sh. 
'tis idle talk good jane, no more of that,  
Go to my Lady Majoress and the rest,  
As you are still companion with the best,  
With them be merry, and pray for our good speed,  Ia. 
To part from thee my very heart doth bleed.  Exeunt. Enter Falconbridge with his troops marching, as being at Mile-end. Fa. 
Yet stand we in the sight of upreared Troy,  
And suck the air she draws: our every breath  
Flies from our nostrils warm unto the walls,  
We beard her bristling spires, her battled towers,  
And proudly stand and gaze her in the face,  
Look on me, and I doubt not ye imagine,  
My worth as great as any one of yours,  
My fortunes, would I basely fawn on Edward,  
To be as fair as any man's in England,  
But he that keeps your sovereign in the Tower,  
Hath seized my land, and robbed me of my right:  
I am a Gentleman as well as he,  
What he hath got, he holds by tyranny,  
Now if you faint, or cowardly should fly,  
There is no hope for any one to live,  
We hear the Londoners will leave the City,  
And bid us battle here on Mile-end Green,  
Whom if we vanquish, than we take the town,  
And ride in triumph thorough Cheap to Paul's,  
The Mint is ours, Cheap, Lombard street our own  
The meanest soldier wealthier than a king.  Spi. 
March fair ye rogues, all kings or capknitters: dost thou hear Tom Falconbridge? I pray thee grant me one boon I shall ask thee.  Fa. 
What is it Ned: it's hard I should deny thee.  Spi. 
Why that when we have won the Cry, as we cannot choose but win it, that I may have the knighting of all these rogues and rascals.  Fal. 
What then?  Spi. 
What then? Zounds I scorn your scurvy way mouthed, what then? now a poor take me it I fight a blow.  Fal. 
Why this is fine, go to, knight whom thou wilt:  Spi. 
Who, I knight any of them? I'll see them hanged first for a company of tattered ragged rascals, if I were a king, I would not knight one of them?  Chub. 
What not me Cavalero Chubb?  Spi. 
Yes, I care not if I knight thee: and yet i'll see thee hanged ere i'll honour thee so much: I care not so much for the matter, but I would not be denied my humour.  Fal. 
Why what a perverse fellow art thou Ned?  Spi. 
Ho my fine Tom, my brave Falconbridge, my mad Greek, my lusty Nevill: thou art a king, a Cesar, a plague on thee, I love thee not, and yet i'll die with thee.  Enter the Lord Maior, Recorder, josseline, Shoare, and their Soldiers marching. Maior. 
See how rebellion can exalt itself,  
Pruning the feathers of sick discipline.  Recer. 
They think they can outlook our truer looks,  Sho. 
Mark but the scornful eye of Falconbridge.  Ma. 
I rather think 'tis fear upon his cheek,  
Deciphers pale disturbance in his heart.  Ios. 
Our coming forth hath, well, I say no more,  
But shall we take occasion, and so forth,  
Rebellion should have no respite, oh my Lord,  
The time hath been, but all is one for that.  Spi. 
How like a troop of rank o'erridden jades,  
You hu●se bearded Citizens appear?  Chub. 
Nay, rather so many men in the Moon,  
And every one a frozen bush in his mouth.  Spi. 
The four and twenty wards? now fair befall them,  
Would any one have thought before this hour,  
There had been such increase of muddy slaves?  Spi. 
Peace soldiers, they are resolute you see,  
And not to flatter us, nor favour them,  
Such haughty sto●hs seldom have been seen,  
Embodied in the breasts of Citizens,  
How sternly in their own peculiar strength,  
Without the assistance of their lingering king,  
Did they of late repulse us from their walls?  
And now again how expeditiously,  
And unexpected they have met us here?  
Were we more deadly incensed than we are,  
I would not but commend their chivalry.  Spi. 
Captain, shall we go challenge them to fight?  
'sblood we burn daylight, they'll think anon,  
We are afraid to see their glittering swords.  Ch. 
Tell them they come in steed of pudding pies,  
And Stratford cakes to makes a banquet here.  Fal. 
Soft give me leave, I will devise with words,  
To weaken and abash their fortitude,  Re. 
The bastard offers to come forth my Lord.  Ma. 
I am the man intend to answer him.  Fa. 
Crosbie.  Ma. 
Traitor.  all 
Traitor? zounds down with him.  Fa. 
Be patient, give me leave I say to speak,  
I doubt not but the traitor's name shall rest  
With those that keeps their lawful K. in bonds:  
Mean time ye men of London once again,  
Behold my warlike colours are displayed,  
Which I have vowed shall never be wrapped up,  
Until your lofty buildings kiss our feet,  
Unless you grant me passage through your streets.  Re. 
Passage, sayst thou? that must be o'er our breasts,  
If any passage thou art like to have.  Fa. 
Why then upon your bodies will I tread,  
And wade through standing pools of your lost blood.  Sh. 
We know thy threats, and reckon them as wind,  
Not of sufficient power to shake a reed.  Spi. 
But we shook your gates not long ago,  
And made your walls to shake like Irish bogs.  Chub. 
ay, and so terrified ye, that not one of ye darest come to fetch a pint of sack at the mouth at Bishopsgate, no not for your lines.  Ios. 
ay but you know what followed, and so forth.  Spi. 
Etcetera? are you there? methinks the sight of the dun Bull, the Nevils honoured crest, should make you leave your broken sentences, and quite forget ever to speak at all.  Sho. 
Nay then look thou upon our cities arms.  
Wherein is a bloody dagger, that is it,  
Where with a rebel like to Falconbridge,  
Had his desert, meet for his treachery,  
Can you behold that, and not quake for fear?  Re. 
Since when, it is successfully decreed,  
Traitors with us shall never better speed.  Spi. 
Captain and fellow soldiers talk no more,  
But draw your meaning forth in down right blows.  Falcon. 
Sound then alarum.  Maior. 
Do the like for us, and where the right is, there attend success.  Ios. 
Stay and be better advised, why countrymen,  
What is this Falconbridge you follow so?  
I could instruct you, but you know my mind.  
And Falconbridge what are these rusticals,  
Thou shouldst repose such confidence in glass,  
Shall I inform thee? no, thou art wise enough,  
Edward of York delays the time you say,  
Therefore he will not come, imagine so,  
The city's weak, hold that opinion still,  
And your pretence King Henry's liberty.  
True, but as how? shall I declare you? no.  
What then? you'll fight, a God's name take your choice,  
I can no more but give you mine advise.  Fal. 
Away with this parentheses of words,  
Crosbie courage thy men, and on this green,  
Whose cause is right, let it be quickly seen.  Maior. 
I am as ready as thou canst desire,  
On then a God's name.  They fight, the rebels drive them back: then Enter Falconbridge and Spicing. Fal. 
This was well fought, now Spicing list to me.  
The Citizens thus having given us ground,  
And therefore somewhat daunted, take a band  
Of Essex soldiers, and with all the speed  
Thou possibly canst make, withdraw thyself,  
And get between the City gates and them.  Spi. 
Oh brave Tom Nevill, gallant Falconbridge,  
Aim at thy intended policy,  
This is thy meaning, while thou art employed,  
And hold'st them battle here on Mile-end Green,  
I must provide as harbinger before,  
There be not only clear and open passage,  
But the best merchants houses to receive  
Us and our retinue, I am proud of that,  
And will not sleep upon thy just command.  Fal. 
Away than I will follow as I may,  
And doubt not but that ours will be the day.  After some excursions, enter Lord Maior and Master Shoare. Ma. 
We have recovered what before we lost,  
And heaven stands with the justice of our cause,  
But this I noted in the fight even now,  
That part of this rebellious crew is sent,  
By what direction, or for what intent,  
I cannot guess, but may suspect the worst,  
And as it seems, they compass it about,  
To hem us in, or get the gate of us,  
And therefore cousin Shore, as I repose  
Trust in thy valour and thy loyalty,  
Draw forth three hundred bowmen, and some pikes,  
And presently encounter their assault.  Sho. 
I have your meaning, and effect my Lord,  
I trust shall disappoint them of their hope.  After an alarum, Enter Spicing with a drum and certain Soldiers. Spi. 
Come on my hearts, we will be kings tonight,  
Carouse in Gold, and sleep with merchants wives,  
While their poor husbands lose their lives abroad,  
We are now quite behind our enemies' backs,  
And there's no let or hindrance in the way,  
But we may take possession of the town,  
Ah you mad rogues, this is the wished hour,  
Follow your leader, and be resolute.  As he marcheth, thinking to enter, Shoare and his soldiers issue forth and repulse him, after excursions, wherein the rebels are dispersed. Enter Maior, Reco. Shoa. josseline, and a Messenger talking with the Maior. Ma. 
ay, my good friend, so certify his grace,  
The Rebels are dispersed all and fled,  
And now his Highness meets with victory.  Exit. Mess. 
Marshal your sclues, and keep in good array:  
To add more glory to this victory:  
The King in person cometh to this place,  
How great an honour have you gained today?  
And how much is this City famed for ever,  
That twice without the help, either of King,  
Or any, but of God, and our own selves,  
We have prevailed against our countries foes?  
Thanks to his majesty assisted us,  
Who always helps true subjects in their need.  The Trumpets sound, then enters king Edward, L. How. Sellenger and the train. King. 
Where is my Lord Maior?  Ma. 
Here dread Sovereign.  
I hold no Lordship nor no dignity,  
In presence of my gracious Lord the King,  
But all I humble at your highness feet,  
With the most happy conquest of proud rebels,  
Dispersed and fled, that now remains no doubt,  
Of ever making head to vex us more.  King. 
You have not ta'en the bastard Falconbridge:  
Or is he slain?  Ma. 
Neither my gracious Lord.  
Although we laboured to our uttermost,  
Yet all our care came over short,  
For apprehending him or Spicing either  
But some are taken, others on proffered grace  
Yielded themselves, and at your mercy stand.  K. 
Thanks good L. Maior, you may condemn us  
Of too much slackness in such urgent need:  
But we assure you on our royal word,  
So soon as we had gathered us a power,  
We dallied not, but mane all haste we could,  
What order have ye ta'en for Falconbridge,  
And his confederates in this rebellion?  Ma. 
Under your leave my Liege, we have proclaimed  
Who bringeth Falconbridge alive or dead,  
Shall be requited with a thousand marks,  
As much for Spicing, others of less worth  
At easier rates are set.  K. 
Well have ye done,  
And we will see it paid from our exchequer.  
Now leave we this and come to you,  
That have so well deserved in these affairs,  
Affairs, I mean of so main consequence.  
Kneel down and all of you receive in field,  
The honour you have merited in field.  There he draws his sword and knights them. 
Arise Sir john Crosbie, L. Maior of London & Knight.  
Arise up Sir Ralph josseline knight.  
Arise Sir Thomas Urswick our Recorder of London, and Knight.  
Now tell me which is M. Shore.  Ma. 
This same my Lord,  
And hand to hand he fought with Falconbridge.  King. 
Shore kneel thou down.  
What call ye else his name?  Recor. 
His name is Mathew Shore my Lord.  K. 
Shore, why kneelest thou not, and at thy sovereign's hand receive thy right?  Shoare. 
Pardon me gracious Lord,  
I do not stand contemptuous or despising  
Such royal favour of my Sovereign,  
But to acknowledge mine unworthiness:  
Far be it from the thought of Mathew Shore,  
That he should be advanced with Aldermen,  
With our L. Maior, & our right grave Recorder.  
If any thing hath been performed by me,  
That may deserve your Highness mean'st respect,  
I have enough, and I desire no more.  
Then let me crave that I may have no more.  King. 
Well, be it as thou wilt, some other way  
We will devise to quittance thy deserts,  
And not to fail therein upon my word.  
Now let me tell ye all my friends at once,  
Your King is married, since you saw him last,  
And haste to help you in this needful time,  
Made me on sudden to forsake my bride.  
But seeing all things are fallen out so well,  
And there remains no further doubt of ill,  
Let me entreat you would go boot yourselves,  
And bring your King a little on his way.  
How say you my Lord, shall it be so?  Ma. 
Now God forbid but that my Lord the King  
Should always have his Subjects at command.  Ios. 
Forbid quotha? I in good sadness, your majesty shall find us always ready, and so forth.  King. 
Why then set forward Gentlemen,  
And come L. Maior, I must confer with you.  Exeunt. Enter Falconbridge and spicing with their weapons in their hands. Spi. 
Art thou the man whose victories drawn at sea,  
Filled every heart with terror of thy name?  
Art thou that Nevill whom we took thee for?  
Thou art a louse, thou bastard Falconbridge?  
Thou baser than a bastard, in whose birth  
The very dregs of servitude appears,  
Why tell me, liver of some rotten sheep,  
After by thy allurements we are brought,  
To undertake this course, after thy promises  
Of many golden mountains to ensue,  
Is this the greatest comfort thou canst give?  
Hast thou ensnared our heedless feet with death,  
And brought us to the gibbet of defame,  
And now dost bid us shift and save ourselves?  
No craven were I sure I should be ta'en,  
I would not stir my feet, until this hand  
Had venged me on thee for misguiding us.  Fal. 
Opprobrious villain, stable excrement,  
That never dreamest of other manhood yet,  
But how to jerk a horse, until my words  
ensued into thee resolutions sire.  
control'st thou me for that wherein thyself,  
Art only the occasion of mishap?  
Hadst thou and they stood to it as well as I,  
The day had been our own, and London now,  
That laughs in triumph, should have wept in tears,  
But being backed by such faint hearted slaves  
No marvel if the Lion go to wrack,  
As though it were not incident to Kings,  
Sometime to take repulse, mine is no more:  
Nor is not for that muddy brain of thine  
To tutor me how to digest my loss,  
Then fly with those that are already fled,  
Or stay behind, and hang all but the head.  Spi. 
Oh prejudice to Spicings conquering name,  
Whose valour even the hacks this sword has made  
Upon the flint, and iron bars at Aldgate:  
Like mouths will publish whiles the City stands  
That I shrunk backe●… that I was never seen  
To show my manly spleen, but with a whip.  
I tell thee Falconbridge the least of these,  
Do challenge blood before they be appeased,  Fal. 
Away ye scoundrel, tempt not my resolve,  
The courage that survives in Falconbridge,  
Scorns the encounter of so base a drudge.  Spi. 
By the pure temper of this sword of mine,  
By this true flesh and blood that gripes the same,  
And by the honour I did win of late,  
Against those frosty bearded Citizens,  
It shall be tried before we do depart,  
Whether accuseth other wrongfully,  
Or which of us two is the better man.  Fal. 
I shall but quit the Hangman of a labour,  
Yet rather than to be upbraided thus,  
The Eagle once will stoop to feed on carrion.  They fight, Enter Chub. Ch. 
Hold if ye be men, if not, hold as ye are: rebels & strong thieves: I bring you news of a proclamation, the King hath promised that whosoever can bring the head of Falconbridge, or Spicing, shall have for his labour a thousand crowns, what mean you then to swagger? save yourselves.  Spi. 
This proclamation comes in happy time,  
I'll vanquish Falconbridge, and with this sword  
Cut off his head, and bear it to the King,  
So not alone shall I be pardoned,  
But have the thousand crowns is promised.  Fal. 
This rascal was ordained to save my life,  
For now when I have overthrown the wretch,  
Even with his head I'll yield me to the King,  
His princely word is past to pardon me,  
And though I were the chief in this rebellion,  
Yet this will be a means to make my peace.  Ch. 
Oh that I knew how to betray them both.  Fal. 
How sayst thou Spi. wilt thou yield thyself?  
For I have vowed either alive or dead  
To bring thee to King Edward?  Spi. 
And I have vowed the like by thee.  
How will these two bad contraries agree?  Chub. 
And I the same by both of you.  Fal. 
Come sir, i'll quickly c●d you of that care.  Spi. 
And what thou 'lottest me, shall be thy share.  Chub. 
Here comes a miller, help to part the fray,  
These are the rebels Falconbridge and Spicing,  
The worst of them is worth a thousand crowns.  Mill. 
Marry and such a booty should I have,  
Submit, submit, it is in vain to strive,  Exit Fal. Spi. 
Why what art thou:  Mill. 
One that will hamper yond,  
But what's the other that is fled away?  Chub. 
Oh miller, that was Falconbridge,  
And this is Spicing his companion.  Spi. 
I tell thee miller thou hast been the means,  
To hinder the most charitable deed,  
whatever honest Christian undertook.  Chub. 
Thou canst bear nigh witness I had fane  
That most notorious rebel but for him.  M. 
But I have taken thee, and the world knows,  
That Spicing is as bad as who is best.  Spi. 
Why thou mistakst, I am a true subject.  Chub. 
Miller he lies, be sure to hold him fast.  Spi. 
Dost thou accuse me? apprehend him too,  
For he's as guilty as any of us.  Mill. 
Come you shall both together answer it,  
Before my Lord Maior, and here he comes.  Enter Lord Maior, josseline, and other attendants. Ma. 
Sir Ralph josseline, have you ever seen a Prince more affable than Edward is? what merry talk he had upon the way.  Ios. 
Doubtless my Lord he'll prove a royal King.  
But how now what are these?  Mill. 
God save your honour,  
Here I present unto you my Lord Maior,  
A pair of rebels, whom I did espy  
As I was busy grinding at my mill,  
And taking them for vagrant idle knaves,  
That had beset some trueman from his house,  
I came to keep the peace, but afterward,  
Found that it was the bastard Falconbridge,  
And this his mate together by the ears,  
The one, for all that I could do, escaped,  
The other standeth at your mercy here.  Ma. 
It is the rebel Spicing.  Spi. 
It is indeed?  
I see you are not blind, you know me then.  Ma. 
Well miller, thou hast done a subjects part,  
And worthily deservest that recompense  
Is publicly proclaimed by the King,  
But what's this other? I have seen his face,  
And as I take it, he is one of them.  Mill. 
I must confess, I took them both together,  
he aided me to apprehend the rest.  Chub. 
'a tells you true my Lord, I am Chubb the Chandler, and I curse the time that ever I saw their faces, for if they had not been, I had lived an honest man in mine own country, and never come to this,  Spi. 
Out rogue, dost thou recant for fear of death?  
I Major, I am he that sought to cut your throat,  
And since I have miscarried in the fact,  
I'll near deny it, do the worst you can.  Ma. 
Bring him a way, he shall have martial law, and at the next tree we do come unto,  
Be hanged to rid the world of such a wretch.  
Miller thy duty is a thousand marks,  
Which must be shared betwixt thee and this poor fellow, that did reveal him. And sirrah, your life is saved on this condition, that you hang up Spicing, how sayst thou, wilt thou do it?  Chub. 
Will I do it? what a question is that?  
I would hang him if he were my father to save mine own life.  Ma. 
Then when ye have done it, come home to my house, and there ye truly shall have your reward.  Spi. 
Well sirrah, than thou must be my hangman?  Chub. 
I by my troth sir, for fault of a better.  Spi. 
Well, commend me to little Pim, and pray her to redeem my pande hose, they lie at the blue Boar for eleven pence, and if my hostess will have the other odd penny, tell her she is a damned bawd, and there is no truth in her score.  Chub. 
Take no thought sir for your panned hose, they are lousy, and not worth the redeeming.  Spi. 
There is a Constable sticks in my mind, he got my sword from me, that night I should have killed black Ralph, if I had lived, I would have been meet with him.  Chub. 
ay sir, but here's a thing shall take an order for that.  Spi. 
commend me to black Luce, bouncing Bess, & lusty Kate, and the other pretty morsels of man's flesh. Farewell Pink and Pinnace, Flibote, and carvel, Turnbull, and Spittle, I die like a man.  Chub. 
Oh Captain Spicing, thy vain enticing, brought me from my trade,  
From good candles making, to this pains taking, a rebel to be made,  
Therefore Ned Spicing, to quit thy enticing, this must be thy hope,  
By one of thy fellows, to be led to the Gallows, to end in a rope.  Exeunt. Enter Hobs the Tanner of Tamworth: Hobs. 
Dudgeon, dost thou he are, look well to brock my mare, drive Dunne and her fair and softly down the hill, and take heed the thorns tear not the horns of my Cow hides, as thou goest near the hedges: ha what sayst thou knave? is the Bulls hide down? why lay it up again, what rare I? He meet thee at the style, and help to set all straight. And yet God help, it's a crooked world, and an unthrifty, for some that have near a shoe, had rather go barefoot, then buy clout-leather to mend the old, when they can buy no new, for they have time enough to mend all, they sit so long between the cup and the wall, well God amend them, God amend them. Let me see by my executor here, my leather pouch, what I have taken, what I have spent, what I have gained. what I have lost, & what I have laid cut: my taking is more than my spending, for here's store left. I have spent but a groat, a penny for my two jades, a penny to the poor, a penny pot of ale, and a penny cake for my man and me, a dicker of cowhides cost me.  Here enter the Queen & Duchess with their riding rods, unpinning their masks, Hobs goes forward. 
Snails who comes here? mistress Ferries, or mistress what call ye her? Put up john Hobs, money tempts beauty.  Du. 
Well met good fellow, sawest thou not the heart?  Ho. 
My heart? God bless me from seeing my heart.  Du. 
Thy heart? the déereman, we demand the decree.  Hobs. 
Do you demand what's dear? mary corn and cow hides, Mass a good smug lass, well like my daughter Nell, I had rather than a bend of leather she and I might smutch together.  Duchess. 
camest thou not down the wood?  Hobs. 
Yes mistress that I did.  Dutch. 
And sawst thou not the dear embossed?  Hobs. 
By my hood ye make me laugh, what the dickens is it love that makes ye prate to me so fondly, by my father's soul I would I had iobd faces with you.  Huntsm. 
Why how now Hobs, so saucy with the Duchess and the Queen?  Hobs. 
Much Queen I trow, these be but women, and one of them is like my wench, I would she had her rags, I would give a load of hair and horns, and a fat of leather, to match her to some justice, by the meghollie.  2. Huntsm. 
Be silent Tanner, and ask pardon of the Queen.  Hobs. 
And ye be the Queen, I cry ye mercy good mistress Queen.  Queen. 
No fault my friend, Madam let's take our bows,  
And in the standing seek to get a shoot.  Dutch. 
Come bend our bows, and bring the herd of dere.  Exeunt. Hobs. 
God send ye good standing, and good striking, and fat flesh, see if all Gentle women be not alike when their black face be on, I took the Queen, as I am true Tanner, for mistress Ferris.  Enter Sellenger and Howard in green. Hobs. 
Soft, who comes here, more knaves yet?  Sel. 
Ho good fellow, sawst thou not the King?  Hobs. 
No good fellow, I saw no King, which King dost thou ask for.  How. 
Why King Edward, what King is there else?  Hob. 
There's another King and ye could hit on him, one harry, one harry, and by our Lady they say, he's the honester man of the two.  Sel. 
Sirrah beware you speak not treason.  Hob. 
What if I do?  Sell. 
Then thou'lt be hanged.  Hob. 
A dog's death, I'll not meddle with it, for by my troth I know not when I speak treason, when I do not, there's such halting betwixt two Kings, that a man cannot go upright, but he shall offend tone of them, I would God had them both for me.  How. 
Well, thou sawst not the King?  Hob. 
No, is he in the country?  How. 
he's hunting here at Drayton Basset.  Hob. 
The devil he is, God bless his Mastership: I saw a woman here that they said was the Queen, she's as like my daughter, but my daughter is the fairer, as ever I see.  Sell. 
Fare well fellow, speak well of the King,  Exeunt. Hob. 
God make him an honest man, I hope that's well spoken, for byth' mouse foot, some give him hard words, whether be serves 'em or not, let him look to that, i'll meddle of my cow hide, and let the world slide.  Enter the king disguised. 
The devil in a dung cart, how these roisters swarm in the country now the King is so near? God liver me from this, for this looks like a cheese, but a man cannot tell amongst these Courtnoles whose true.  K. Ed. 
Holla my friend, good fellow pray thee stay.  Hob. 
No such matter, I have more haste of my way.  K. Ed. 
If thou be a good fellow, let me borrow a word.  Hob. 
My purse thou meanest, I am no good fellow, and I pray God thou be'st not one.  K. Ed. 
Why? dost thou not love a good fellow?  Hobs. 
No, good fellows be thieves.  K. Ed. 
Dost thou think I am one?  Hob. 
Thought is free, and thou art not my ghostly father.  K. Ed. 
I mean thee no harm.  Hob. 
Who knows that but thyself? I pray God he spy not my purse.  K. Ed. 
On my troth I mean she none.  Hob. 
Upon thy oath i'll stay: now, what sayst thou to me? Speak quickly, for my company stays for me beneath at the next style.  K. Ed. 
The King is hunting hereabouts, didst thou see his Majesty?  Hob. 
His majesty, what's that? his horse, or his mare?  K. Ed. 
Tush, I mean his Grace.  Hob. 
Grace quotha? pray God he have any: which King dost thou choir for?  K. Ed. 
Why for King Edward, know'st thou any more Kings than one?  Hob. 
I know not so many, for I tell thee I know none, marry I hear of King Edward.  K. Ed. 
Didst thou see his Highness?  Hob. 
By my holidame, that's the best term thou gav'st him yet, he's high enough, but he has put poor King Harry low enough.  K. Ed. 
How low hath he put him?  Hob. 
Nay, I cannot tell, but he has put him down, for he has got the crown, much good do't him with it.  K. Ed. 
Amen, I like thy talk so well, I would I knew thy name.  Hob. 
Dost thou not know me?  K. Ed. 
No.  Hobs. 
Then thou knowest nobody: didst never hear of john Hobs the Tanner of Tamworth?  K. Ed. 
Not till now I promise thee, but now I like thee well.  Hobs. 
So do not I thee, I fear thou art some out-rider, that lives by taking of purses here on Basset's heath, but I fear thee not, for I have wared all my money in Cowhides, at Colesill market, and my man & my mare are hard by at the hill foot.  K. Ed. 
Is that thy grey mare that's tide at the style with the h●es on her back':  Hobs. 
That's brock my mare, and there's Dun my nag, and Dadgeon my man.  K. Ed. 
There's neither man nor horse, but only one mare.  Hob. 
God's blue bodkin, has the knave served me so? farewell, I may lose his, horns, and mare & all, by prating with thee.  K. Ed. 
Tarry man, tarry, they'll sooner take my gelding than thy gray mare, for I have tide mine by her.  Hobs. 
That will I see afore i'll take your word.  K. Ed. 
I'll bear thee company.  Hob. 
I had as lief go alone:  Exeunt. Enter the two huntsmen again with the Bows. 1 Hunts. 
Now on my troth the Queen shoots passing well.  2. Hunts. 
So did the Duchess when she was as young.  1. Hunts. 
Age shakes the hand, and shoots both wide & short:  2. Hunts. 
What have they given us?  1. Hunts. 
S●re rose nobles lust:  2. Hunts. 
The Queen gave four.  1. Hunts. 
True, and the Duchess twain.  2. Hunts. 
O were we ever so paid for our pain.  1. Hunts. 
Tut, had the King come, as they said he would, he would have rained upon us showers of gold.  2 Hunts. 
Why he is hunting somewhere here about, let's first go drink, and then go seek him out.  Exeunt. Enter King Edward again, and Hobs. K. Ed 
How sayst thou Tanner, wilt thou take my courser for thy mare?  Ho. 
Courser callst thou him? so ill mought I fare, thy skittish jade will never abide, to carry my leather, my horns nor hide. But if I were so mad to scorce, what boot wouldst thou give nice?  K. Ed. 
May boot, that's boot worthy, I look for boot of thee.  Hob. 
Ha, ha, a merry jig, why man, brock my mare knows ha and ree, and will stand when I cry ho, and let me get up and down, and make water when I do.  Ed. 
I'll give thee a Noble if I like her pace, lay thy Cowhides in my saddle, and let's jog towards Drayton.  Hob. 
It's out of my way, but I begin to like thee well.  Ed. 
Thou wilt like me better before we do part,  
I pray thee tell me, what say they of the King?  Hob. 
Of the kings thou mean'st, art thou no blab if I tell thee.  Ed. 
If the King know't not now, he shall never know it for me.  Hob. 
Mass they say King harry's a very adultery man.  King. 
A devout man, and what's King Edward?  Hob. 
he's a frank franion, a merry companion, and loves a wench well, they say he has married a poor widow because she's fair.  King. 
Dost thou like him the worse for that?  Hob. 
No by my feckens, but the better, for though I be a plain Tanner, I love a fair lass myself.  King. 
pray tell me, how love they King Edward?  Hob. 
Faith as poor folks love holidays, glad to have them now and then, but to have them come too often, will undo them, so to see the king now and then t's comfort, but every day would beggar us, and I may to thee, we fear we shallbe troubled to lend him no money, for we doubt he's but needy.  King. 
Wouldst thou lend him no money if he should need?  Hob. 
By my halidom yes, he shall have half my store, and I'll sell sole leather to help him to more.  King. 
Faith whether lovest thou better Harry or Edward.  Hob. 
Nay, that's coúnsel, & two may keep it, if one be a way.  Kin. 
Shall I say my conscience? I think Harry is the true king.  Hob. 
Art advised of that? harry's of the old house of Lancashire, and that progenity do I love.  K. 
And thou dost not hate the house of York?  H. 
Why no, for I am just a kin to Sutton windmill, I can grind which way soe'er the wind blow, if it be harry I can say well fare Lancaster, if it be Edward I can sing, York, York for my monse.  Kin. 
Thou art of my mind, but I say harry's the lawful King, Edward is but an usurper, and a fool and a coward.  H. 
Nay there thou liest, he has wit enough, and courage enough, do thou not speak treason?  King. 
ay, but I know to whom I speak it.  Hob. 
Dost thou? well if I were Constable, I should be forsworn if I set thee not in the stocks for it.  King. 
Well let it go no further, for I did serve King harry and I love him best, though now I serve King Edward.  Hob. 
Thou art the arranter knave to speak ill of thy master, but sirrah what's thy name, what office hast thou? and what will the King do for thee?  King. 
My name is Ned, I am the king's Butler, and he will do more for me, then for any Noble man in the Court.  Hob. 
The devil he will, he's the more fool, and so i'll tell him, if ere I see him, & I would I might see him in my poor house at Tamworth.  K. 
Go with me to the Court and i'll bring thee to the king, & what suit soe'er thou have to him, the warrant thee to speed  H. 
I ha' nothing to do at Court, i'll home with my cowhides, and if the King will come to me he shall be welcome.  K. 
Hast thou no suit touching thy trade, to transport hides or sell leather only in a certain circuit, or about Bark, or such like, to have letters patents?  H. 
By the Mass and the matins I like not those Patents, sirrah they that have them, do as the Priests did in old time, buy and sell the sins of the people, so they make the King believe they mend what's amiss, and for money they make the thing worse than it is, there's another thing in too, the mor is the pity?  K. 
What pity john Hobs? I pray thee say all.  Hobs. 
Faith 'tis pity that one subica should have in his hand that might do good to many through the land.  K. 
Satest thou me so Tanner well let's cast lots whether thou shalt go with me to Drayton, or I go home with thee to Tamworth.  H. 
Lot me no lotting, i'll not go with thee, if thou wilt go with me, cause thart my lieges man (and yet I think be has many honester) thou shalt be welcome to john Hobs, thou shalt be welcome to beef and bacon, and perhaps a bag-pudding, and my daughter Nell shall pop a posset upon thee when thou ghost to bed.  K. 
Here's my hand, i'll but go & see the King served, and I'll be at home as soon as thyself.  H. 
Dost thou hear me Ned? if I shall be thy host,  
Make haste thou art best, for fear thou kiss the Post.  Exit, Hobs. K. 
Farewell john Hobs, the honest true Tanner  
I see plain men by observation,  
Of things that alter in the change of times,  
Daughter knowledge, and the meanest life,  
Proportioned with content sufficiency,  
Is merry then the mighty state of Kings.  Enters How. an Sellinger. 
Now now? what news bring ye sirs,  
Where's the Queen?  Sel. 
Her Highness and your mother my dread Lord,  
Are both invited by Sir Humphrey Bows,  
Where they intend to feast and lodge this night,  
And do expect your grace's presence there.  K. 
Tom Sellinger I have other business;  
Astray from you and all my other train,  
I met a Tanner, such a merry mate,  
So frolic, and so full of good conceit,  
That I have given my word to be his guest,  
Because he knows me not to be the King:  
Good cozen Howard grudge not at the lest,  
But greet my mother and my wife from me,  
Bid them be merry, I must have my humour,  
Let them both sup and sleep when they see time,  
Commend me kindly to Sir Humphrey Bows,  
Tell him at breakfast I will visit him.  
This night Tom Sellinger and I must feast  
With Hobs the Tanner, there plain Ned & Tom.  
No King nor Sellinger for a thousand pound.  Enter a Messenger booted with letters, and kneeling gives them to the King. How. 
The Queen & Duchess will be discontent,  
Because his Highness comes not to the feast.  Sel. 
Sir Humphrey Bows may take the most conceit,  
But what's the end, the King will have his pleasure?  King. 
Good news my boys, harry the sixth is dead, peruse that letter: sirrah, drink you that, gives his purse, and stay not but post back again for life, and thank my brother Gloster for his news, commend me to him, i'll see him tomorrow night. How like ye it sirs?  Exit Messenger. Sel. 
O passing well my Liege, you may be merry for these happy news.  King. 
The merrier with our host the Tanner Tom,  
My Lord take you that letter to the Ladies,  
Bid them be merry with that second course,  
And if we see them not before we go,  
Pray them to journey easily after us,  
we'll post to London, so good night my Lord.  Exeunt. Enter Hobs and his daughter Nell. Hobs. 
Come Nell, come daughter, is your hands and your face washed?  Nell. 
I forsooth Father.  Hob. 
Ye must be cleanly I tell ye, for there comes a courtnoll hither tonight, the king's master ships Butler, Ned, a spruce youth, but beware ye be not in love nor overtaken by him, for Courtiers be slippery lads.  Nell. 
No forsooth father.  Hobs. 
God's blessing on thee, that half years schooling at Lichfield, was better to thee then house and land, it has put such manners into thee, I forsooth and no forsooth at every word, ye have a clean smock on. I like your apparel well, is supper ready?  Nell. 
I forsooth father.  Hobs. 
Have we a good barley bagpudding, a piece of fat Bacon, a good cow heel, a hard cheese, and a brown loaf.  Nell. 
All this forsooth, and more, ye shall have a posset, but indeed the rats have spoiled your hard cheese.  Hobs. 
Now the devil choke them, so they have eat me a farthing candle the other night.  Dudgeon within. 
What master master.  Hobs. 
How now knave, what fairest thou Dudgeon?  Dud. 
Here's guests come, where's Helen?  Hobs. 
What guests be they?  Dud. 
A courtnoll, one Ned the king's Butcher he says, and his friends too.  Hobs. 
Ned the king's butcher? ha, ha, the king's butler, take their horses, and walk them, and bid them come near house, Nell lay the cloth, and clap supper o'th' board.  Exit Nell. Enter King Edward and Sellenger. 
Mas here's Ned indeed and another misproud ruffian,  
Welcome Ned, I like thy honesty, thou keepest promise.  K. Ed. 
i'faith honest Tanner, i'll ever keep promise with thee, pray thee bid my friend welcome.  Hobs. 
By my troth ye are both welcome to Tamwoorth: friend I know not your name.  Sel. 
My name is Tom Twist?  Hobs. 
Believe ye that list: but ye are welcome both, and I like you both well but for one thing.  Sel. 
What's that?  Hobs. 
Nay that I keep to myself, for I sigh to see and think, that pride brings many one to extraction.  King. 
Pre thee tell us thy meaning.  Hobs. 
Troth I doubt ye near came truly by all these gay rags. 'tis not your bare wages and thin fees ye have of the King, can keep ye thus fine, but either ye must rob the King privily, or his subjects openly, to maintain your probicality.  Sel. 
Thinkest thou so Tanner:  Hobs. 
'tis no matter what I think, come let's go to supper,  
What Nell, what Dudgeon, where be these folks?  Enter Nell and Dudgeon, with a Table covered. 
Daughter bid my friends welcome.  Nell. 
Ye are welcome Gentlemen as I may say.  Sell. 
I thank ye fair maid.  kiss her both. King. 
A pretty wench be my fay.  Hobs. 
How likest her Ned?  King. 
I like her so well, I would ye would make me your son in law.  Hobs. 
And I like thee so well Ned, that hadst thou an occupation, for service is no heritage, a young courtier, an old beggar, I could find in my heart to cast her away upon thee, and if thou wilt forsake the court and turn Tanner, or vind thyself to a shoemaker in Lichfield, I'll give thee twenty nobles ready money, with my Nell, and trust thee with a dicker of leather, to set up thy trade.  Sel. 
Ned he offers ye fair, if ye have the grace to take it.  King. 
He does indeed, Tom, and hereafter i'll tell him more.  Hob. 
Come sit down to supper: go to Nell, no more sheeps eyes, ye may be caught I tell ye, these be irish lads.  Nell. 
I warrant ye father, yet in truth Ned is a very proper man, and other may serve, but Ned's a pearl in mine eye.  Hob. 
Daughter, call Dudgeon and his fellows, we'll have a three men song, to make our guests merry.  Exit Nell. 
Nails what courtnolls are ye? ye'll neither talk nor eat, What news at the court? do somewhat for your meat.  King. 
Heavy news there, King henry is dead.  H. 
That's light news & merry for your master king Edward.  King. 
But how will the commons take it?  Hob. 
Well, God be with good King henry, faith the commons will take it as a common thing, deaths an honest man, for he spares not the King: for as one comes, another's ta'en away, and seldom comes the better, that's all we say.  Sellin. 
Shrewdly spoken Tanner by my fay.  Hob. 
Come fill me a cup of mother Whetstone's ale, I may drink to my friends, and drive down my tale.  
Here Ned and Tom I drink to ye: and yet if I come to the court, I doubt you'll not know me.  Kin. 
Yes, Tom shall be thy surety Tanner I will know thee.  Sel. 
If thou dost not Ned, by my troth I beshrew thee.  King. 
I drink to my wife that may be.  Sel. 
Faith Ned thou mayst live to make her a Lady.  King. 
Tush, her father offers nothing, having no more children but her.  Hob. 
I would I had not, condition she had all. But I have a knave to my son, I remember him by you, even such an ●thrist as one of you two, that spends all on gay clothes and new fashions, and no work will down with him, that I fear he'll be hanged, God bless you from a better fortune, yet you wear such filthy breeks, Lord, were not this a good fashion? yes, and would save many a fair penny.  King. 
Let that pass, and let us hear your song.  Hob. 
Agreed, agreed, come, sol, sol, sol, fa, fa, fa, say Dudgeon.  

Here they sing the threeman's Song.  
Agincourt, Agincourt, know ye not Agincourt.  
Where the English slew and hurt,  
all the French foemen:  
With our Guns and bills brown,  
O the French were beaten down,  
Morris pikes and bowmen, &c.   Sel. 
Well sung good fellows, I would the King heard ye.  Hob. 
So should i'faith, I should strain a note for him: Come take away, and let's to bed, ye shall have clean sheets Ned, but they be course, good strong hemp, of my daughters own spinning and I tell thee, your Chamber pot, must be a fair horn, a badge of our occupation, for we buy no bending pewter, nor bending earth.  King. 
No matter Hobs, we will not go to bed.  Hobs. 
What then?  King. 
even what thou wilt, for it is near day.  
Tanner, Gramercies for our hearty cheer,  
If ere it be thy chance to come to court,  
inquire for me Ned the king's butler,  
Or Tom of the king's chamber my companion,  
And see what welcome we will give thee there.  Hobs. 
I have heard of courtiers have said as much as you, and when they have been tried, would not bid their friends drink.  Sel. 
We are none such, let our horses be brought out,  
For we must a way, and so with thanks farewell.  Hob. 
Farewell to ye both, commend me to the king, & tell him I would have been glad to have seen his worship here.  Exit. King. 
Come Tom for London, horse, and hence away.  Enter the vice-admiral and the Captain of the I'll of Wight, with Falconbridge bound, the headsman bearing the axe before him. Mor. 
Thomas Nevil, yet hast thou gracious time  
Of dear repentance, now discharge thy conscience,  
Lay open thine offences to the world,  
That we may witness thou dost die a Christian.  Fal. 
Why sir Harry Morton have you arraigned,  
Condemned, and brought me to this place,  
Of bloody execution, and now ask,  
If I be guilty, therein doth appear,  
What justice you have used, call you this law?  Ca. 
Thou dost mistake our meaning Falconbridge,  
we do not ask as being ignorant,  
Of thy transgression, but as urging thee,  
To hearty sorrow for thy vile misdeeds,  
That heaven may take compassion on thy soul.  Fal. 
How charitable you would seem to be't:  
I fear anon you'll say it is for love,  
You bind me thus, and bring me to the block,  
And that of mere affection you are moved  
To cut my head off, cunning policy:  
Such butchers as yourselves never want,  
A colour to excuse your slaughterous minds.  Mor. 
We butcher thee? canst thou deny thyself,  
But thou hast been a pirate on the sea?  
Canst thou deny but with the commonalty  
Of Kent and Essex, thou didst rise in arms,  
And twice assault the City London, where  
Thou twice didst take repulse, and since that time,  
Canst thou deny, that being fled from hence,  
Thou joinedst in conferacy with France,  
And camest with them to burn Southampton here,  
Are these no faults, thou shouldst so much presume,  
To clear thyself, and lay thy blood on us?  Fal. 
Hear me sir harry, since we must dispute.  Cap. 
Dispute uncivil wretch, what needs dispute,  
Did not the vice-admiral here, and I  
Encountering with the Navy of the French,  
Attach thee in a ship of normandy,  
And wilt thou stand upon thine innocence?  
Dispatch, thou art as rightfully condemned  
As ever rebel was. And thou shalt die.  Fal. 
I make no question of it, I must die,  
But let me tell you how I scorn your threats,  
So little do I reckon of the name  
Of ugly death, as were he visible,  
I'd wrestle with him for the victory,  
And tug the slave, and tear him with my teeth,  
But I would make him stoop to Falconbridge,  
And for this life, this paltry brittle life,  
This blast of wind which you have laboured foe,  
By juries, sessions, and I know not what,  
To rob me off, is of so vile repute:  
That to attain that I might live mine age,  
I would not give the value of a point,  
You cannot be so cruel to afflict,  
But I will be as forward to endure.  Mor. 
Go to, leave of these role braves of thine:  
And think upon thy soul's health Falconbridge.  Cap. 
Submit and ask forgiveness of thy King.  Fal. 
What King?  Mor. 
Why Edward of the house of York.  Fal. 
He is no King of mine, he does usurp,  
And if the destinies had given me leave,  
I would have told him so before this time,  
And pulled the Diadem from off his head.  Mo. 
Thou art a traitor, stop thy traitor's mouth.  Fal. 
I am no traitor, Lancaster is King,  
If that be treason to defend his right,  
What be't for them that do imprison him?  
If insurrection to advance his sceptre,  
What fault is theirs that step into his throne?  
Oh God, thou pouredst the balm upon his head,  
Can that pure unction be wiped off again?  
Thou once didst crown him in his infancy,  
Shall wicked men now in his age depose him?  
Oh pardon me, if I expostulate,  
More than becomes a sinful man to do,  
England I fear thou wilt thy folly rue.  Cap. 
Thou triflest time, and dost but weary us  
With dilatory questions, make an end,  Fal. 
Indeed the end of all kingdoms must end,  
Honour and riches, all must have an end.  
And he that thinks he doth the most prevail,  
His head once laid, there resteth but a tale:  
Come fellow, do thy office, what methinks,  
Thou lookest as if thy heart were in thy hose,  
Pull up thy spirits, it will be quickly done,  
A blow or two at most will serve the turn.  Head. 
Forgive me sir your death.  Fal. 
Forgive thee? I and give thee too,  
Hold, there is some few crowns for thee to drink,  
Tush weep not man, give losers leave to plain,  
And yet i'faith my loss I count a gain,  
First let me see, is thy are sharp enough,  
I am indifferent, well a God's name to this gear,  Hea. 
Come & yield your head gently to the block,  Fal. 
Gently sayst thou: thou wilt not use me so:  
But all is one for that, what strength hast thou,  
Throughout the whole proportion of thy limbs,  
Revoke it all into thy manly arms,  
And spare me not, I am a Gentleman,  
A Nevill and a Falconbridge beside,  
Then do thy work, thou mayst get credit by it,  
For if thou dost not, I must tell thee plain,  
I shall be passing angry when 'tis done.  Head. 
I warrant you sir, none in the land shall do it better.  Fal. 
Why now thou pleasest me, England farewell  
And old Plantagenet, if thou survive,  
Think on my love, although it did not thrive.  He is led forth. Mor. 
As for his head, it shall be sent with speed  
To London, and the promised reward,  
Allotted for the apprehending him,  
Be given unto the poor of Southampton here:  
How say you Captain are you so content?  Cap. 
With all my heart, but I do marvel much  
We hear not of the messenger we sent,  
To give the King intelligence of this?  M. 
Take truce with your surmises, here he comes.  Enter a Messenger. 
Follow it seems that thou art slow of gate,  
Or very negligent in our affairs,  
What says King Edward to our service done?  Mes. 
To answer you directly and as briefly,  
I spoke with him, for when I was come  
To Drayton Basset, where they said he was,  
'twas told me there, that even the night before,  
His highness in all haste, was rid towards London:  
The occasion, Henry's death within the Tower,  
Of which the people are in sundry tales,  
Some thinking he was murdered, some again  
Supposing that he died a natural death.  Mor. 
Well howsoe'er, that concerns not us,  
We have to do with no man's death, but his,  
That for his treason here hath lost his head.  
Come let us give direction as before,  
And afterward make back unto the shore.  Exeunt. Enter the Lord Maior in his scarlet gown, with a guilded rapier by his side. Ma. 
I marry Crosbie this befits thee well,  
But some will marvel that with a scarlet gown,  
I wear a guilded rapier by my side:  
Why let them know, I was knighted in the field  
For my good service to my Lord the king,  
And therefore I may wear it lawfully,  
In Court, in City, or at any royal banquet.  
But soft john Crosbie, thou forgettest thyself,  
And dost not mind thy birth and parentage,  
Where thou wast born, & whence thou art derived,  
I do not shame to say, the Hospital  
Of London was my chiefest fostering place,  
There did I learn, that near unto a Cross,  
Commonly called Cow Cross near Islington,  
An honest Citizen did chance to find me,  
A poor Shoemaker by trade he was,  
And doubting of my Christendom or no,  
Called me according to the place he found me,  
john Crosbie, finding me so by a Cross.  
The Masters of the Hospital at further years,  
Bound me apprentice to the grocer's trade,  
Wherein God pleased to bless my poor endeavours  
That by his blessings I am come to this.  
The man that found me I have well requited,  
And to the Hospital my fostering place,  
An hundred pound a year I give for ever,  
Likewise in memory of me john Crosbie  
In Bishopsgate street a poor house have I built,  
And as my name have called it Crosbie house,  
And whenas God shall take me from this life,  
In little S. Helen's will I be buried:  
All this declares, I boast not of my birth,  
But found on earth, I must return to earth.  
But God for his pity I forget myself,  
The King my Sovereign Lord will come anon,  
And nothing is as yet in readiness.  
Where are ye cousin Shore? nay where is Mistress Shore?  
Oh I am sorry that she stays so long,  
See what it is to be a widower,  
And lack a Lady Majoress in such need.  Enter M. Shoare and Mistress Shoare. 
Oh are ye come? welcome good cousin Shore,  
But you indeed are welcome gentle Niece.  
Needs must you be our Lady Majoress now,  
And help us, or else we are shamed for ever,  
Good cousin still thus am I bold with you.  Sh. 
With all my heart my Lord, & thank ye too,  
That you do please to use our homely help.  Ma. 
Why see how neatly she bestirs herself,  
And in good sooth makes housewifery to shine?  
Ah had my Lady Majoress lived to see  
Fair Mistress Shore thus beautify her house,  
She would have been not little proud thereof.  jane. 
Well my Lord Maior I thank you for that flout,  
But let his Highness now come when he please,  
All things are in a perfect readiness.  They bring forth a Table, and serve in the banquet. Maio. 
The more am I beholding Niece to you,  
That take such pains to save our credit now:  
My servants are so slack, his Majesty,  
Might have been here before we were prepared,  
But peace here comes his Highness.  The Trumpets sound, and enters king Edward, How. Sellinger, and the train. K. 
Now my Lord Maior, have we not kept our word?  
Because we could not stay to dine with you:  
At our departure hence, we promised,  
First food we tasted at our back return,  
Should be with you, still yielding hearty thanks,  
To you and all our London Citizens,  
For the great service which you did perform  
Against that bold faced rebel Falconbridge.  M. 
My gracious Lord what then we did,  
We did account no more than was our duty,  
Thereto obliged by true subic as zeal,  
And may he never live that not defends,  
The honour of his king and country:  
Next thank I God, it likes your Majesty,  
To bless my poor roof, with your royal presence,  
To me could come no greater happiness.  K. 
Thanks good Lord Maior, but where's my Lady Majoress, I hope that she will bid us welcome too.  M. 
she would my Liege, and with no little joy,  
Had she but lived to see this blessed day,  
But in her sreed this Gentle woman here,  
My Cousin's wife, that office will supply:  
How say you mistress Shore?  K. 
How? mistress Shore? what not his wife  
That did refuse his knighthood at our hand?  Ma. 
The very same my Lord and here he is.  K. 
What M. Shore, we are your debtor still,  
But by God's grace intend not so to die:  
And Gentlewoman, now before your face,  
I must condemn him of discourtesy,  
Yea, and of great wrong that he hath offered you,  
For you had been a Lady but for him.  
He was in fault, trust me he was to blame,  
To hinder virtue of her due by right.  Ia. 
My gracious L. my poor & humble thoughts,  
near had an eye to such unworthiness,  
And though some hold it as a maxim,  
That women's minds by nature do aspire,  
Yet how both God and M. Shore I thank  
For my continuance in this humble state,  
And likewise how I love your Majesty:  
For gracious sufferance that it may be so:  
Heaven bear true record of my inward soul:  
Now it remains, on my Lord majors behalf,  
I do such duty as becometh me,  
To bid your Highness welcome to his house,  
Were welcomes virtue powerful in my word,  
The King of England should not doubt thereof.  K. 
Nor do I mistress Shore, now my Lo. Maior  
Edward dare boldly swear that he is welcome,  
You spoke the word well, very well i'faith,  
But mistress Shore her tongue hath guilded it,  
Tell me cousin Howard and Tom Sellinger,  
Had ever Citizen so fair a wife?  How. 
Of flesh and blood I never did behold,  
A woman every way so absolute.  Sel. 
Nor I my Liege, were Sellinger a King,  
He could afford shores wife to be a Queen.  K. 
Why how now Tom? Nay rather how now Ned?  
What change is this? proud, saucy roving eye,  
What whisper'st in my brain, that she is fair?  
I know it, I see it, fairer than my Queen?  
Wilt thou maintain it? what & thou traitor heart,  
Wouldst thou shake hands in this conspiracy?  
Down rebel, back base treacherous conceit,  
I will not credit thee, my Bess is fair,  
And shores wife but a blouze, compared to her,  
Come let us sit, here will I take my place.  
And my Lord Maior, fill me a bowl of wine,  
That I may drink to your elected Majoress,  
And M. Shore tell me how like you this,  
My L. Maior makes your wife his L. Majoress?  Sho. 
So well my Lord as better cannot be,  
All in the honour of your Majesty.  The Lord Maior brings a bowl of wine, & humbly on his knees offers it to the king. Kin. 
Nay drink to us L. Maior, we'll have it so,  
Go to I say, you are our Taster now,  
Drink then, and we will pledge ye.  M. 
All health & happiness to my sovereign.  he drinks. K. 
Fill full our cup, and Lady Majoress,  
This tall carouse we mean to drink to you,  
And you must pledge us, but yet no more,  
Than you shall please to answer us withal.  He drinks, & the Trumpets sound, then wine is brought to her, and she offers to drink. 
Nay you must drink to somebody, yea Tom to thee?  
Well sirrah, see you do her right:  
For Edward would, oh would to God he might.  
Yet idle eye, wilt thou be gadding still?  
Keep home, keep home, for fear of further ill.  Enter a Messenger with letters. 
How now? letters to us, from whom?  Mess. 
My Liege, this from the D. of Burgundy.  
And this is from the Constable of France.  K. 
What news from them?  He opens the letter and reads. 
To claim our right in France?  
And they will aid us, yea, will ye so?  
But other aid must aid us ere we go.  He seems to read the letters but glances on Mistress Shoare in his reading. 
A woman's aid, that hath more power than France  
To crown us, or to kill us with mischance.  
If chaste resolve be to such beauty tied,  
Sue how thou canst, thou wilt be still denied,  
Her husband hath deserved well of thee,  
Tut, love makes no respect where'er it be,  
Thou wrong'st thy Queen: every enforced ill,  
Must be endured, where beauty seeks to kill:  
Thou seemst to read, only to blind their eyes,  
Who knowing it, thy folly would despise.  He starts from the Table. 
Thanks for my cheer L. Maior, I am not well,  
I know not how to take these news. This fit I mean,  
That hath bereft me of all reason clean.  M. 
God shield my Sovereign.  K. 
Nay nothing I shall be well anon.  Ian. 
May it please your Highness sit.  K. 
ay, fain with thee, nay we must needs be gone,  
cousin Howard convey these letters to our counsel,  
And bid them give us their advise of them,  
Thanks for my cheer L. Maior, farewell to you  
And farewell Mistress Shore, La. Majoress I should say,  
It's you have caused our parting at this time.  
Farewell M. Shore, farewell to all,  
we'll meet once more to make amends for this.  Exeunt King. How. and Sel. M. 
Oh God here to be ill?  
My house to cause my sovereign's discontent?  
cousin Shore I had rather spent.  Sho. 
Content yourself my L. kings have their humours,  
The letters did contain somewhat no doubt,  
That did displease him.  jane. 
So my Lord think I,  
But by God's help he will be well again.  M. 
I hope so too, well cousin for your pains,  
I can but thank ye, chiefly you fair Niece,  
At night I pray ye both come sup with me.  
How say ye? will ye?  Sh. 
Yes my Lord we will.  
So for this time we humbly take our leave.  Exeunt Shoare and his wife. M. 
Oh now the sudden sickness of my Liege,  
afflicts my soul with many passions?  
His Highness did intend to be right merry,  
And God he knows how it would glad my soul,  
If I had seen his Highness satisfied  
With the poor entertainment of his Maior,  
His humble vassal, whose lands, whose life and all  
Are, and in duty must be always his.  
Well, God I trust will bless his grace's health,  
And quickly ease him of his sudden fit.  
Take away there ho, rid this place,  
And God of heaven bless my sovereign's Grace.  Exit. Enter two prentices preparing the goldsmith's Shop with plate. 1. Pren. 
Sirrah Jack, come set out.  2. Pren. 
You are the elder Prentice, I pray you do it, lest my mistress talk with you when she comes down, what is it o'clock?  1. Pren. 
Sir by All-hallows.  2. Pren. 
Lying and stealing will bring ye to the Gallows.  
Is here all the plate?  1. Pren. 
I that must serve today,  
Where is the weights and balance?  2. Pr. 
All ready, hark my mistress comes.  Exit 1. Pren. Enter Mistress Shoare with her work in her hand. jane. 
Sir boy, while I attend the shop myself,  
See if the workman have dispatched the Cup,  
How many ounces weighs it:  2. Pren. 
twenty forsooth.  jane. 
What said the Gentleman to the fashion?  2. Pren. 
He told my master I was not within.  jane. 
Go sir make haste, your M. is in Cheapside:  
Take heed ye were best your loitering be not spied.  The boy departs, & she sits sowing in her shop. Enter the king disguised. K. 
Well fare a case to put a King in yet,  
Good mistress Shore this doth your love procure,  
This shape is secret, and I hope t's sure,  
The watermen that daily use the Court,  
And see me often, knew me not in this,  
At Lion key I landed in their view,  
Yet none of them took knowledge of the King,  
If any gallant strive to have the wall,  
I'll yield it gently: Soft here must I turn,  
here's Lombard street, and here's the Pelican,  
And there's the Phoenix in the Pelicans nest,  
O rare perfection of rich nature's work,  
Bright twinkling spark of precious Diamond,  
Of greater value than all India,  
Were there no Sun, by whose kind lovely heat  
The earth brings forth those stones we hold of prize,  
Her radiant eyes dejected to the ground,  
Would turn each pebble to a Diamond.  
Gaze greedy eyes and be not satisfied,  
Till you find rest, where hearts desire doth bide.  Ia. 
What would you buy sir that you look on here?  K. 
Your fairest jewel, be it not too dear.  
First how this sapphire mistress that you wear?  jane. 
Sir it is right that will I warrant ye,  
No jeweller in London shows a better.  K. 
No, nor the like, you praise it passing well.  jane. 
Do I no?, if some Lapidary had the stone, more would not buy it then I can demand. 'tis as well set I think as ere ye saw.  K. Ed. 
'tis set indeed upon the fairest hand, that ere I saw.  jane. 
You are disposed to jest, but for value, his majesty might wear it.  K. Ed. 
Might he i'faith?  jane. 
Sir 'tis the ring I mean.  K. Ed. 
I meant the hand.  jane. 
You are a merry man,  
I see you come too cheap, and not to buy.  K. Ed. 
Yet he that offers fairer than i'll do, shall hardly find a partner in his bargain.  jane. 
Perhaps in buying things of so small value?  King. 
Rather because no wealth can purchase it.  Ian. 
He were too fond, that would so highly prize,  
The thing which once was given away for love.  Kin. 
His hap was good that came so easily by it.  jane. 
The gift so small, that asked, who could deny it?  King. 
Oh she gave more, that such a gift then gave,  
Then earth ere had, or world shall ever have.  jane. 
His hap is ill, should it be as you say,  
That having given him what you rate so high,  
And yet is still the poorer by the match.  King. 
That easily proves he doth not know the worth.  jane. 
Yet having had the use of it so long,  
It rather proves you over rate the thing,  
He being a chapman, as it seems you are.  King. 
Indeed none should adventure on the thing,  
That's to be purchased only by a King.  jane. 
If Kings love that, which no man else respects,  
It may be so, else do I see small reason,  
A King should take delight in such course stuff.  King. 
Lives there a King, that would not give his crown,  
To purchase such a kingdom of content?  jane. 
In my conceit, right well you ask that question.  
The world I think contains not such fond king.  King. 
Why mistress Shore, I am the man will do it.  jane. 
It's proudly spoke, although I not believe it,  
Were he King Edward that should offer it.  King. 
But shall I have it?  jane. 
Upon what acquaintance?  King. 
Why since I saw thee last.  jane, 
Where was that?  K. 
At the L. Majors, in the presence of the King.  jane. 
I have forgotten that I saw you there,  
For there were many that I took small note of.  King. 
Of me you did, and we had some discourse.  jane. 
You are deceived Sir, I had then no time,  
For my attendance on his majesty.  King. 
I'll gauge my hand unto your hand of that,  
Look well upon me.  He discovers himself. jane. 
Now I beseech you let this strange disguise  she kneels. 
Excuse my boldness to your majesty.  
whatever we possess is all your highness,  
Only mine honour, which I cannot grant,  K. 
Only thy love (bright angel) Edward craves,  
For which I thus adventured to see thee.  Enter Master Shoare. Ia. 
But here comes one, to whom I only gave it.  
And he I doubt will say you shall not have it.  King. 
Am I so soon cut off? oh spite.  
How say ye mistress, will ye take my offer?  Ia. 
Indeed I cannot sir afford it so.  King. 
You'll not be offered fairlier I believe.  jane. 
Indeed you offer like a Gentleman,  
But yet the jewel will not so be left.  Sho. 
Sir, if you bid not too much underfoot,  
I'll drive the bargain twixt you and my wife.  K. 
Alas good Shore, myself dare answer no.  King aside. 
Nothing can make thee such a jewel forego.  
She faith you shall be too much looser by it.  Sho. 
See in the row then, if you can speed better.  King. 
See many worlds a-row, affords not like.  As he goes forth, Shoare looks earnestly, and perceives it is the king, whereat he seemeth greatly discontented. I. 
Why look'st thou Mat? know'st thou the gentleman?  
Alas what ails thee that thou look'st so pale?  
What there sweet heart? alas, where hast thou been?  Sho. 
Nay nothing jane, know you the Gentleman?  jane. 
Not I sweet heart, alas why do you ask?  
Is he thine enemy?  Sho. 
I cannot tell,  
What came he here to cheapen at our shop?  jane. 
This jewel love.  Sho. 
Well I pray God he came for nothing else.  jane. 
Why who is it? I do suspect him Shore.  
That you demand thus doubtedly of me.  Sho. 
Ah jane, it is the King.  Ia. 
The king? what then? be't for that thou sighest?  
Were he a thousand kings thou hast no cause  
To fear his presence, or suspect my lout.  Sho. 
I know I have not, see he comes again.  The king enters again, muffled in his cloak. King. 
Still is my hindzer there? be patient heart,  
Some fitter season must assuage the smart.  
What will ye take that mistress which I offered ye?  
I come again sir, as one willing to buy.  jane. 
Indeed I cannot sir, I pray ye  
Deal with my husband, hear what he will say.  Sho. 
I'll sell it worth your money, if you please,  
I pray you come near sir.  King. 
I am too near already, thou so near.  
Nay, nay, she knows what I did offer her,  
And in good sadness, I can give no more,  
So fare ye well sir, I will not deal with you.  Exit. Ia. 
You are deceived (sweet heart) 'tis not the king,  
Think you he would adventure thus alone?  Sho. 
I do assure thee jane it is the King.  
Oh God, twixt the extremes of love and fear,  
In what a shivering ague sits my soul?  
Keep we our treasure secret, yet so fond,  
As set so rich a beauty as this is,  
In the wide view of every gazer's eye.  
Oh traitor beauty, oh deceitful good,  
That dost conspire against thyself and love,  
No sooner got, but wished again of others,  
In thine own self, injurious to thyself,  
Oh rich poor portion, thou good evil thing?  
How many joyful woes still dost thou bring?  Ia. 
I pray thee come, sweet love, and sit by me,  
No king that's under heaven I love like thee.  Exit. Enter sir Humphrey Bows, and master Aston, being two justices, harry Grudgen, Robert Godfellow, and john Hobs the Tanner. Bow. 
Neighbours and friends, the cause that you are called,  
Concerns the Kings most excellent majesty,  
Whose right you know by his progenitors,  
Unto the Crown and sovereignty of France,  
Is wrongfully detained by the French,  
Which to revenge and royally regain.  
His Highness means to put himself in Arms.  
And in his princely person to conduct  
His warlike troops against the enemy.  
But for his Coffers are unfurnished,  
Through civil discord and intestine war,  
(Whose bleeding scars our eyes may yet behold)  
He prays his faithful loving subjects help,  
To further this his just great enterprise.  Hobs. 
So the feck and meaning, whereby as it were of all your long purgation Sir Humphrey is no more in some respect, but the king wants money & would have some of his Comentie.  Bo. 
Tanner you rightly understand the matter.  Ast. 
Note this withal, where his dread Majesty,  
(Our lawful sovereign, and most royal King)  
Might have exacted or imposed a Tax  
Or borrowed greater sums than we can spare,  
(For all we have is at his dread command,)  
He doth not so, but mildly doth entreat  
Our kind benevolence, what we will give,  
With willing minds to wards this mighty charge.  Enter Lord Howard. 
Which to receive, his noble Counsellor  
And kinsman the Lord Howard here is come.  H. 
Now good sir Humphrey Bows, and M. Aston,  
Have ye declared the kings most gracious pleasure?  Bo. 
We have my Lord.  How. 
His highness will not force,  
As loan or tribute, but will take your gift,  
In grateful part and recompense your love.  B. 
To show my love, though money now be scarce  
A hundredth pound i'll give his Majesty.  Ho. 
'tis well sir Humphrey.  Aston. 
I a hundred marks.  Ho. 
Thanks M. Aston, you both show your love,  
Now ask your neighbours what they will bestow?  Bow. 
Come master Hadland your benevolence.  Had. 
O good sir Humphrey do not rack my purse,  
You know my state, I lately sold my land.  Aston. 
Then you have money, let the king have part.  Hob. 
ay, do master Hadland do, they say ye sold a foul deal of dirty land for fair gold and silver, let the king have some now while you have it, for if ye be forborn a while, all will be spent, for he that cannot keep land that lies fast, will have much ado to hold money, it's slippery ware, 'tis melting ware, 'tis melting ware.  How. 
Gramercy Tanner.  bows. 
Say, what shall we have?  Hadland. 
My forty shillings.  Aston. 
Robert Goodfellow.  
I know you will be liberal to the King.  Good. 
O M. Aston be content I pray ye,  
You know my charge, my household very great,  
And my housekeeping holds me very hare:  
threescore uprising, and down lying Sir,  
Spends no sinal store of victuals in a year,  
Two brace of Greyhounds, tt. couple of hounds,  
And then my jades devour a deal of Corn,  
My Christmas cost, & then my friends that come  
Amounts to charge, I am Robin Goodfellow,  
That welcomes all and keeps a frolic house,  
I have no money pray ye pardon me.  How. 
here's a plain Tanner can teach you how to thrive,  
Keep fewer dogs, and then ye may feed men:  
Yet feed no idle men, 'tis needles charge,  
You that on hounds and hunting mates will spend,  
No doubt but something to your King you'll lend.  Good. 
My brace of Angels, by my troth that's all.  Hob. 
Mass and 'tis well thy Curs have left so much, I thought they would have eaten up thy house and land ere this.  Bowes. 
Now harry Grudgen.  Grudgen. 
What would you have of me? Money I have none, and i'll sell no stock, here's old polling, subsidy, fifteen, soldiers, and to the poor, and you may have your will, you'll soon shut me out a door.  Hob. 
Hear ye worships, will ye let me answer my neighbour Grudgen? By my halidom Harry Grudgen, thou'rt but a grumbling, grudging Churl, thou hast two ploughs going, and near a Cradle rocking, thou'st a peck of money, go to, turn thee loose, thou'lt go to law with the Micat for a tithe goose, and wilt not spare the King four or five pound.  Grudgen. 
Gep goodman Tanner, are ye so round? your prolicatenes has brought your son to the gallows almost, you can be frank of another man's cost.  Hob. 
Thart no honest man to twit me with my son, he may out live thee yet for aught that he has done, my sons i'th' jail, is he the first has been there, and thou art a man, as thart a beast, I would have thee by the ears.  How. 
Friend thou want'st nurture, to upbraid a Father Weeping.  
With a suns fault, we sit not here for this;  
What's thy benevolence towards his majesty?  Hob. 
His benegligence? hang him he'll not give a pennis willingly.  Gr. 
I care not much to cast away forty pence.  Ho. 
Out grudging peasant, base ill nurtured groom,  
Is the the love thou bearest unto the King?  
Gentlemen take notice of the slave,  
And if he fault let him be soundly plagued?  
Now frolic janner, what wilt thou afford?  Hob. 
twenty old Angels and a score of hides, if that be too little, take twenty Nobles more, while I have it my king shall spend of my store.  How. 
The King shall know thy loving liberal heart.  Hob. 
Shall he i'faith, I thank ye heartily, but hear ye Gentleman, you come from the Court?  How. 
I do.  Hob. 
Lord how does the King, and how does Ned the king's Butler, and Tom of his Chamber, I am sure ye know them?  How. 
They do very well.  Hob. 
For want of better guests they were at my house one night.  How. 
I know they were.  Hob. 
They promised me a good turn for kissing my daughter Nell, and now I ha' occasion to try them, my sons in Die hell here in Caperdoche, itha Jail for peeping into another man's purse, and outstep the King be miserable, he's like to totter, can that same Ned the Butler do any thing with the King?  How. 
More than myself, or any other Lord.  Hob. 
A halter he can, by my troth ye rejoice my heart to hear it.  How. 
Come to the Court I warrant thy sons life,  
Ned will save that, and do thee greater good.  Hob. 
I'll wean brock my maressole, and come up to the King, and it shall go hard but two fat hens for your pains I will bring.  Bowes. 
My Lord this fellow gladly now will give,  
five pounds so you will pardon his rude speech.  How. 
For five and five I cannot brook the beast.  Grud. 
What gives the Tanner, I am as able as he  Aston. 
He gives ten pound.  Grud. 
Take twenty then of me.  
I pray ye my Lord forgive my rough heaved speech  
I wis I meant no hurt unto my Liege.  Bowes. 
Let us entreat your Lordship's patience.  How. 
I do at your request remit the offence,  
So let's depart, here's all we have to do.  Ast. 
'Tis for this time and place my Lord, sirrah bring your money.  Hob. 
What have you saved now goodman Grudgen, by your hinching and your pinching, not the worth of a black pudding.  Exeunt. Enter mistress Shoare, and mistress Blage. M. Bla. 
Now mistress Shore, what urgent cause is that, Which made ye send for me in such great haste? I 〈◊〉 it made me half afraid, you were not well.  jane. 
Trust me, nor sick, nor well, but troubled still with the disease I told ye: here is another letter from the King, was never poor soul so importuned.  M. Bla. 
But will no answer serve?  jane. 
No mistress Blage, no answer will suffice,  
He, he it is, that with a violent siege  
Labours to break into my plighted faith,  
Oh what am I, he should so much forget  
His royal State, and his high majesty?  
Still doth he come disguised to my house,  
And in most humble terms bewrays his love,  
My husband grieves, alas how can he choose,  
Fearing the dispossessment of his jane?  
And when he cannot come (for him) he writes,  
Offering beside incomparable gifts,  
And all to win me to his princely will.  M. Bla. 
Believe me M. Shore, a dangerous case,  
And every way repeat with doubtful fear,  
If you should yield, your virtuous name were foiled  
And your beloved husband made a scorn,  
And if not yield, it's likely that his love,  
Which now admires ye, will convert to hate,  
And who knows not a PRINCE's hate is death?  
Yet I will not be she shall counsel ye,  
Good mistress Shore do what ye will for me.  jane. 
Then counsel me what I were best to do.  M. B. 
You know his greatness ran dispense with ill,  
Making the sin seem lesser by his worth,  
And you yourself, your children & your friends,  
Be all advanced to worldly dignity,  
And this world's pomp you know is a goodly thing,  
Yet I will not be she shall counsel ye,  
Good mistress Shore do what ye will for me.  jane. 
Alas I know that I was bound by oath,  
To keep the promise that I made at first,  
And virtue lives, when pomp consumes to dust.  M, Blague. 
So we do say, dishonour is no shame,  
When slander does not touch th'offenders name,  
You shall be folded in a prince's arms,  
Whose beck disperseth even the greatest harms,  
Many that sit themselves in high degree,  
Will then be glad to stoop, and bend the knee,  
And who be't, having plenty in the hand,  
Never commanded, but doth still command,  
That cannot work in such excess of things,  
To quit the guilt one small transgression brings?  
Yet I will not be she shall counsel ye,  
Good mistress Shore do what ye will for me.  jane. 
Here do I live, although in mean estate,  
Yet with a conscience free from all debate,  
Where higher footing may in time procure,  
A sudden fall, and mix my sweet with sour.  Mi. Blague. 
True, I confess a private life is good,  
Nor would I otherwise be understood,  
To be a goldsmith's wife is some content,  
But days in court more pleasantly are spent,  
A household's government deserves renown,  
But what is a companion to a crown?  
The name of mistress is a pretty thing,  
But Madam at each word doth glory bring.  
Yet I will not be she shall counsel ye,  
Good mistress Shore do what ye will for nice.  Ia. 
Oh that I knew which were the best of twain,  
Which for I do not, I am sick with pain.  Enter her Boy. 
How now sir boy, what is the news with you?  Boy. 
The Gentleman forsooth the other day,  
That would have bought the jewel at our stall,  
Is here to speak with ye.  jane. 
Oh God it is the King.  
Good mistress Blague withdraw ye from this place,  
Oh come anon, so soon as he is gone,  
And sirrah get you to the shop again.  Exit Boy. M. Bla. 
Now mistress Shore bethink ye what to do.  
Such suitors come not every day to woo.  Mistress Blague departs, and the king enters in his former disguise. K. 
Thou mayst convict me (beauty's pride) of boldness,  
That I intrude like an unbidden guest,  
But love being guide, my fault will seem the less.  Ia. 
Most welcome to your subjects homely roof,  
The foot my Sovereign, seldom doth offend,  
Unless the heart some other hurt intend.  King. 
The most thou seest is hurt unto myself  
How for thy sake, is majesty disrobed?  
Riches made poor, and dignity brought low,  
Only that thou mightst our affection know.  jane. 
The more the pity, that within the sky,  
The sun that should all other vapours dry,  
And guide the world with his most glorious light  
Is muffled up himself in wilful night.  K. 
The want of thee, fair Cinthia is the cause,  
Spread thou thy silver-brightness in the air,  
And straight the gladsome morning will appear.  jane. 
I may not wander, he that guides my car,  
Is an immoved, constant, fixed star,  Ki. 
But I will give that star a comets name,  
And shield both thee and him from further blame.  jane. 
How if the host of heaven at this abuse  
Kepine? who can the prodigy excuse?  K. 
It lies within the compass of my power,  
To dim their envious eyes, dare seem to lower,  
But leaving this our enigmatic talk,  
Thou must sweet jane repair unto the Court,  
His tongue entreats, controls the greatest peer,  
His hand plights love, a royal sceptre holds,  
And in his heart be hath confirmed thy good,  
Which may not, must not, shall not be withstood.  jane. 
If you enforce me, I have nought to say,  
But wish I had not lived to see this day.  K. 
Blame not the time, thou shalt have cause to soy.  
jane in the evening I will send for thee,  
And thou and thine shall be advanced by me.  
In sign whereof receive this true-Love kiss,  
Nothing ill meant, there can be no amiss.  Exit. jane. 
Well I will in, and ere the time begin,  
Learn how to be repentant for my sin.  Exit. Enter Lord Maior, master Shoare and France's Emersley. Maior. 
But cousin Shore, are ye assured it was the King you saw in such disguise?  Sho. 
Do I know you the uncle to my wife? know I Frank Emersley her brother here? so surely do I know that counterfeit to be King.  Fran. 
Well, admit all this. And that his Majesty in such disguise, please to survey the manner of our City, or what occasion else may like himself. methinks you have small reason brother Shore, to be displeased thereat.  Ma. 
Oh I have sound him now.  
Because my Niece his wife is beautiful,  
And well reputed for her virtuous parts:  
He in his fond conceit misdoubts the King,  
Doth dote on her in his affection.  
I know not cousin how she way be changed,  
By any cause in you procuring it,  
From the fair carriage of her wonted course:  
But well I wot, I have oft heard you say,  
She merited no scruple of mislike.  
If now some giddy fancy in your brain,  
Make you conceive sinisterly of her,  
And with a person of such difference.  
I tell you cousin, more for her respect,  
Then to soothe you in such sottishness,  
I would reveal ye open to the world,  
And let your folly justly plague yourself.  Sho. 
Uncle you are too forward in your rage,  
And much mistake me in this suddenness,  
Your Niece's reputation have I prized,  
And shrined as devoutly in my soul  
As you, or any that it can concern.  
Nor when I tell you that it is the King,  
Comes muffled like a common Servingman,  
Do I infer thereby my wife is false?  
Or swerves one jot from wonted modesty.  
Though in my shop she sit, more to respect,  
Her servants duty, then for any skill,  
She doth, or can pretend in what we trade,  
Is it not strange, that ever when he comes,  
It is to her, and will not deal with me?  
Ah Uncle Frank, nay, would all her kin,  
Were here to censure of my cause aright:  
Though I misdeem not her, yet give me leave,  
To doubt what his sly walking may intend.  
And let me tell ye, he that is possessed,  
Of such a beauty, fears undermining guests:  
Especially a mighty one, like him,  
Whose greatness may guild over ugly sin.  
But say his coming is not to my wife,  
Then hath he some sly aiming at my life,  
By false compounded metals, or light gold,  
Or else some other trifle to be sold.  
When kings themselves so narrowly do pry  
Into the world, men fear, and why not I?  Fran. 
Believe my brother in this doubtful case  
I know not well how I should answer ye,  
I wonder in this serious busy time,  
Of this great gathered benevolence,  
For his regaining of his right in France,  
The day and nightly turmoil of his Lords,  
Yea of the whole estate in general,  
He can be spared from these great affairs,  
And wander here disguised in this sort.  
But is not this your boy?  Enter the Boy. Sho. 
Yes marry is it: how now, what news with thee?  Boy. 
Master, my mistress by a Nobleman,  
Is sent for to the King in a close Coach,  
she's gone with him, these are the news I bring.  Ma. 
How? my niece sent for to the King?  
By a Nobleman, and she is gone with him?  
Nay, than I like it not?  Fran. 
How, gone sayst thou?  S. 
Be patient Uncle, storm not gentle Frank:  
The wrong is mine, by whom? a king,  
To talk of such it is no common thing.  
She is gone thou sayst?  Boy. 
Yes truly sir, 'tis so.  Sho. 
I cannot help it, a God's name let her go,  
You cannot help it Uncle, no, nor you,  
Where kings are meddlers, meaner men must rue.  
I storm against it? no, farewell lane Shore.  
Once thou wast mine, but must be so no more.  Maior. 
Gone to the Court?  Exit Maior. Sho. 
Yet uncle will ye rage?  
Let mine example your high heat assuage.  
To note offences in a mighty man,  
It is enough, amend it he that can,  
Frank Emersley, my wife thy sister was,  
Lands, goods and all I have, to thee I pass,  
Save that poor portion must along with me,  
To bear me from this badge of obloquy,  
It never shall be said that Mathew Shore,  
A king's dishonour in his bonnet wore.  Fran. 
Good brother.  Sh. 
Strive not to change me, for I am resolved,  
And will not tarry. England fare thou well,  
And Edward, for requiting me so well,  
But dare I speak of him? forbear, forbear,  
Come Frank I will surrender all to thee,  
And then abroad, where ere my fortune be  Exeunt. Enter king Edward, Howard, Sellinger, &c. K. 
And have our country subjects been so frank  
And bountiful in their benevolence,  
Toward our present expedition?  
Thanks cousin Howard for thy pains herein:  
We will have letters sent to every Shire  
Of thankful gratitude, that they may know,  
How highly we respect their gentleness.  How. 
One thing my L. I had well near forgot,  
Your pleasant host the Tanner of Tamworth.  King. 
What of him cousin?  How. 
He was right liberal,  
I twenty old Angels did he send your Grace,  
And others seeing him so bountiful,  
Stretched further than otherwise they had done.  K. 
Trust me I must requite that honest Tanner.  
Oh had he kept his word, and come to Court,  
Then in good sadness we had had good sport.  How. 
That is not long my L. which comes at last  
he's come to London, on an earnest cause,  
His son lies prisoner in Safford jail,  
And is condemned for a robbery.  
Your highness pardoning his sons offence,  
May yield the Tanner no mean recompense.  K. 
But who hath seen him since he came to town?  Sel. 
My Lord in Holborn 'twas my hap to see him  
Gazing about, I sent away my men,  
And clapping on one of their livery cloaks,  
Came to him, and the Tanner knew we strait,  
How dost thou Tom? and how doth Ned quoth he  
That honest merry hangman, how doth he?  
I knowing that your Majesty intended  
This day in person to come to the Tower,  
There bade him meet me, where Ned and I,  
Would bring him to the presence of the King,  
And there procure a pardon for his son.  King. 
Have then a care we be not seen of him,  
Until we be provided for the purpose,  
Because once more we'll have a little sport,  
Tom Sellinger, let that care be yours.  Sel. 
I warrant ye my Lord let me alone.  Enter the Lord Maior. K. 
Welcome L. Maior, what have you signified  
Our thankfulness unto our Citizens,  
For their late gathered benevolence?  Ma. 
Before the Citizens in our Guildhall,  
Master Recorder made a good Oration,  
Of thankful gentitude unto them all,  
Which they received with so kind respect,  
And love unto your royal majesty,  
As it appeared to us they sorrowed,  
Their bounty to your highness was no more,  King. 
Lord Maior, thanks to yourself and them,  
And go ye with us now into the Tower,  
To see the order that we shall observe,  
In this so needful preparation,  
The better may you signify to them,  
What need there was of their benevolence.  Ma. 
I'll wait upon your gracious majesty,  
Yet there is one thing that much grieveth me. aside.  Exeunt. Enter Shoare, & two watermen bearing his trunks. Sho. 
Go honest fellow, bear my trunks aboard,  
And tell the master i'll come presently.  Enter mistress Shoare Ladylike attired, with divers supplications in her hand, she unpinning her mask, & attended on by many suitors. 1. Wa. 
We will sir, but what Lady have we here?  
Belike she is of no mean countenance,  
That hath so many suitors waiting on her.  Sho. 
Go one of you I pray ye, inquire her name,  1. Wa. 
My honest friend, what Lady call ye this?  air. 
Her name is mistress Shore, the king's beloved,  
A special friend to suitors at the court.  S. 
Her name is mistress Shore the kings beloved,  
Where shall I hide my head, or stop mine ears.  
But like an owl I shall be wondered at?  
When she with me was wont to walk the streets,  
The people then as she did pass along,  
would say, there goes fair modest mistress Shore,  
When she attended like a City Dame,  
Was praised of matrons. So that Citizens,  
When they would speak of aught unto their wives  
Fetched their example still from mistress Shore,  
But now she goes decked in her courtly robes,  
This is not she, that once in seemly black,  
Was the chaste sober wife of Mathew Shore,  
For now she is King Edward's Concubine,  
Oh great ill title, honourable shame,  
Her good I had, but King her ill is thine,  
Once shores true wife, now Edward's Concubine,  
Amongst the rest i'll note her new behaviour.  All this while she stands conferring privately with her suitors, and looking on their bills. air. 
Good mistress Shore remember my son's life.  jane. 
What is thy name?  air. 
My name is Thomas Air.  jane. 
There is his pardon signed by the King.  air. 
In sign of humble hearty thankfulness,  
Take this in Angels twenty pound.  jane. 
What think ye, that I buy & sell for bribes,  
His highness favour, or his subjects blood?  
No, without gifts God grant I may do good,  
For all my good cannot redeem my ill,  
Yet to do good I will endeavour still.  Sho. 
Yet all this good doth but guild over thy ill.  aside. Palmer. 
Mistress the restitution of my lands,  
Taken perforce by his highness officers.  jane. 
The King is content your goods shall be restored,  
But the officers will hardly yield thereto,  
Yet be content, i'll see ye have no wrong.  Sho. 
Thou canst not say to me so, I have wrong.  jockey. 
Mistress good faith gin ye'll help me till my land, whilk the false loune Billie Grime of Glendale hauds wranfully frea me: i'll white your goodness with a bonny nag, sall swum away so deftly as the wind.  jane. 
Your suit my friend, requires a longer time,  
Yet since you dwell so far off, to ease your charge,  
Your diet with my servants you may take,  
And some relief i'll get thee of the King.  Sho. 
Its cold relief thou getst me from the King.  jockey. 
Now God's blessing light on that goodly fair face, i'll be your true beadsman mistress, I indeed, shall I.  Pal. 
God bless the care you have of doing good.  air. 
Pity she should miscarry in her life,  
That bears so sweet a mind in doing good.  Sho. 
So say I too, ah jane this kills my heart,  
That thou recks others, and not rue'st my smart.  Rufford. 
Mistress I fear you have forgot my suit?  jane. 
Oh, 'tis for a licence to transport corn from this land. and lead to foreign Realms, I had your bill, but I have torn your bill, and 'ttwere no shame I think, to tear your ears, that care not how you wound the commonwealth. The poor must starve for food to fill your purse. And the enemy bandy bullets of our lead. No master Rufford, i'll not speak for you, except it be to have you punished.  jockey. 
By the mess a deft lass, Christ benison light on her.  She espies her husband walking aloof off, and not knowing him, takes him for another Suitor. jane. 
Is that another suitor? I have no bill of his,  
Go one of you, and know what he would have.  Sho. 
Yes jane, the bill of my obliged faith,  
And I had thine, but thou hast canceled it.  Here she knows him, and lamenting, comes to him. jane. 
Oh God it is my husband, kind Mathew Shore.  Shoare. 
Ah jane, what's he dare say he is thy husband?  
Thou wast a wife, but now thou art not so,  
Thou wast a maid, a maid when thou wast wife,  
Thou wast a wife even when thou wast a maid,  
So good, so modest, and so chaste thou wast,  
But now thou art divorced, whiles yet he lives,  
That was thy husband, while thou wast his wife.  
Thy wifehood stained, by thy dishonoured life,  
For now thou art nor widow, maid, nor wife.  jane. 
I must confess I yielded up the Fort,  
Wherein lay all the riches of my joy,  
But yet sweet Shore, before I yielded it,  
I did endure the longest and greatest siege,  
That ever battered on poor chastity,  
And but to him that did assault the same,  
For ever it had been invincible,  
But I will yield it back again to thee.  
He cannot blame me, though it be so done,  
To lose by me, what first by me was won.  Sho. 
No jane, there is no place allowed for me,  
Where once a King hath ta'en possession,  
Mean men brook not a Rival in their love,  
Much less so high unrivaled Majesty,  
concubine to one so great as Edward.  
Is tar too great to be the wife of Shore,  jane. 
I will refuse the pleasures of the Court,  
Let me go with thee Shore, though not as a wife,  
Yet as thy slave, since I have lost that name,  
I will redeem the wrong that I have done thee,  
With my true service, if thou wilt accept it.  Sho. 
Thou go with me jane, oh God forbid,  
That I should be a traitor to my King,  
Shall I become a felon to his pleasures,  
And fly away as guilty of the theft?  
No my dear jane, I say it may not be,  
Oh what have subjects that is not their kings,  
He not examine his prerogative.  Ia. 
Why then sweet Mat. let me entreat thee stay,  
What be't with Edward that I cannot do?  
I'll make thee wealthier than ere Richard was,  
That entertained the three greatest kings in Europe,  
And feasted them in London on a day  
Ask what thou wilt, were it a million,  
That may content thee, thou shalt have it Shore.  Sho. 
Indeed this were some comfort to a man,  
That tasted want or worldly misery,  
But I have lost what wealth cannot return,  
All worldly losses are but toys to mine,  
Oh, all my wealth, the loss of thee was more,  
Than ever time or Fortune can restore.  
Therefore sweet jane farewell, once thou wast mine,  
Too rich for me, and that King Edward knew,  
Adieu, oh world, he shall deceived be,  
That puts his trust in women or in thee.  Ia. 
Ah Shore farewell, poor heart in death i'll tell,  
I ever loud thee Shore, farewell, farewell.  Exit. Enter king Edward, Lord Maior, Howard, Sellinger, and the train. King. 
Having awaked forth of their sleepy dens,  
Our droury Cannons, which ere long shall charm  
The watchful French, with deaths eternal sleep,  
And all things else in readiness for France,  
A while we will give truce unto our care,  
There is a merry Tanner near at hand,  
With whom we mean to be a little merry.  
Therefore Lord Maior, and you my other friends,  
I must entreat you not, to knowledge me,  
No man stand bare, all as companions,  
Give me a Cloak, that I may be disguised,  
Tom Sellinger, go thou and take another,  
So Tanner, now come when ye please, we are provided,  
And in good time, see he is come already.  Enter the Tanner. 
Tom Sellenger, go thou and meet him.  Sel. 
What john Hobs? welcome i'faith to court,  Hob. 
Gramercies honest Tom, where is the hangman  
Ned? where is that mad rascal, shall I not see him?  Sel. 
See where he stands, that same is he.  Hob. 
What Ned? a plague found thee, how dost thou for a villain? how dost thou mad Rogue, and how, and how?  King. 
In health john Hobs, and very glad to see thee,  
But say, what wind drove thee to London.  Hobs. 
Ah Ned, I was brought hither with a whirlwind man, my son, my son, did I not tell thee I had a knave to my son?  King. 
Yes Tanner, what of him?  Hob. 
Faith he's in Caperdoche Ned, in Stafford Goal, for a robbery, and is like to be hanged, except thou get the King to be more miserable to him.  King. 
If that be all Tanner, i'll warrant him,  
I will procure his pardon of the King.  Hobs. 
Wilt thou Ned? for those good words, see what my Daughter Nell hath sent thee, a handkercher wrought with as good coventry silk blue thread as ever thou sawest.  King. 
And I perhaps may wear it for her sake,  
In better presence than thou art aware off,  Hobs. 
How Ned, a better present? that canst thou not have for silk, cloth, and workmanship, why Nell made it man. But Ned? is not the King in this company, what he in the long beard and the red petticoat? before God I misdoubt Ned that is the King, I know it by my Lord what ye calls players.  King. 
How by them Tanner?  Hob. 
Ever when they play an interlude or a Commodity at Tamworth, the King always is in a long beard, and a red gown like him, therefore I 'spect him to be the King  King. 
No trust me Tanner, this is not the King, but thou shalt see the King before thou goest, and have a pardon for thy son too with thee.  
This man is the Lord Maior, Lord Maior of London, here was the Recorder too, but he is gone.  Hobs. 
What nicknames these courtnolls have? Mare and Corder quotha? we have no such at Lichfield, there is the honest Bailiff and his brethren, such words 'gree best with us.  King. 
My Lord Maior, I pray ye for my sake, to bid this honest Tanner welcome.  Maior. 
You are welcome my honest friend,  
In sign whereof I pray you see my house,  
And sup with me this night.  Hobs. 
I thank ye good goodman Masor, but I care not for no meat, my stomach is like to a sick swine's, that will neither eat nor drink, till she know what shall become of her pig. Ned and Tom, you promised me a good turn when I came to Court, either do it now, or go hang yourselves.  King. 
No sooner comes the King, but I will do it.  Sel. 
I warrant thee Tanner, fear not thy sons life.  Hobs. 
Nay, I fear not his life, I fear his death.  Enter Master of Saint Katherine's, and Widow Norton. Maiste. 
All health and happiness to my Sovereign.  King. 
The Master of Saint Katherine's hath marred all:  Hobs. 
Out alas that ever I was borne.  The Tanner falls in a swoon, they labour to revive him, meanwhile the king puts on his roy all robes. King. 
Look to the Tanner there, he takes no harm,  
I would not have him (for my crown) miscarry.  Wid. 
Let me come to him by my king's good leave,  
Here's ginger honest man, bite it.  Hobs. 
Bite ginger, bite ginger, bite a dog's date, I am but a dead man, ah my Liege, that you should deal so with a poor well meaning man, but it makes no matter, I can but die.  King. 
But when Tanner canst thou tell?  Hobs. 
Nay even when you please, for I have so defended ye, by calling ye plain Ned, mad rogue and rascal, that I know you'll have me hanged. Therefore make no more ado, but send me down to Stafford, and there a God's name hang me with my son. And here's another as honest as yourself, you made me call him plain Tom, I warrant his name is Thomas, and some man of worship too, therefore let's to it, even when and where ye will.  King. 
Tanner attend, not only do we pardon thee,  
But in all princely kindness welcome thee,  
And thy sons trespass do we pardon too,  
o'er go and see that forthwith it be drawn,  
Under our seal of England, as it ought,  
And forty pounds we give thee to defray  
Thy charges in thy coming up to London.  
Now Tanner, what sayst thou to us?  Hobs. 
Marry you speak like an honest man, if you mean as you say.  King. 
we mean it Tanner, on our royal word.  
Now master of S. Katherine's, what would you?  M. 
My gracious Lord, the great benevolence,  
(Though small to that your subjects could afford,  
Of poor S. Katherine's do I bring your grace,)  
Five hundred pounds here have they sent by me.  
For the easier portage, all in Angel gold,  
What this good widow mistress Norton will,  
She comes herself, and brings her gift with her.  Wid. 
Pardon me gracious Lord, presumption,  
Nor over weening in mine own conceit,  
Makes me thus bold to come before your Grace,  
But love and duty to your majesty:  
And great desire to see my Lord the King,  
Our master here spoke of benevolence,  
And said my twenty Nobles was enough,  
I thought not so, but at your highness feet,  
A widows mite, a token of her zeal,  
In humble duty gives you twenty pound.  Ki. 
Now by my crown, a gallant lusty Girl,  
Of all the exhibition yet bestowed,  
This woman's liberality likes me best.  
Is thy name Norton?  Wid. 
I my gracious Liege.  King. 
How long hast thou been a Widow?  Wid. 
It is my Lord,  
Since I did bury Wilkin my goodman,  
At Shrovetide next even just a dozen years.  K. 
In all which space, couldst thou not find a man.  
On whom thou mightst bestow thyself again?  Wid. 
Not any like my Wilkin whose dear love,  
I know is matchless, in respect of whom,  
I think not any worthy of a kiss.  K. 
No widow? that i'll try, how like you this?  He kisseth her. Wid. 
Beshrew my heart, it was a honey kiss,  
Able to make an aged woman young:  
And for the same most sweet and lovely Prince,  
See what the widow gives you from her store,  
forty old Angels but for one kiss more.  K. 
marry Widow and thou shalt have it,  
john Hobs thou art a widower,  
Lackest thou such a wife?  Hobs. 
Snails, twenty pound a kiss? had she as many twenty pound bags as I have knobs of bark in my tansat she might kiss them away in a quarter of a year. I'll no Saint Katherine's widows, if kisses be so dear.  Widow. 
Clubs and clouted shoes, there's none enamoured here.  King. 
Lord Maior, we thank you and entreat withal,  
To recommend us to our Citizens:  
We must for France, we bid you all farewell,  
Come Tanner thou shalt with us to Court,  
To marrow you shall dine with my Lord Maior,  
And after ward set homeward when ye please:  
God and our right that only fights for us,  
Adieu, pray that our toil prove prosperous.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.    


THE SECOND PART of King Edward the Fourth.  
Containing his journey into France, for obtaining of his right there: The treacherous falsehood of the Duke of burgundy, and the Constable of France used against him, and his return home again. Likewise the prosecution of the history of M. Shore and his fair wife: Concluding with the lamentable death of them both.  Enter king Edward, Howard, Sellinger, and Soldiers marching. Edward. 
IS this the aid our cousin burgundy,  
And the great Constable of France assured us?  
Have we marched thus far through the heart of France?  
And with the terror of our English Drums:  
kourde the poor trembling French, which leave their towns  
That now the Wolves affrighted from the fields,  
Do get their prey, and kennel in their streets?  
Our thundering Canons, now this fortnight space,  
Like common bellmen in some market town,  
Have cried the Constable and burgundy:  
But yet I see they come not to our aid,  
we'll bring them in, or by the blessed light,  
we'll search the Ground-stilles of their city's walls,  
Since you have brought me hither: I will make,  
The proudest Tower that stands in France to quake,  
I marvel Scales returns not, for by him  
I do respect to hear their resolutions.  Enter the Lord Scales. How. 
My Sovereign he is happily returned.  Ed. 
Welcome my Lord, welcome good cousin Scales,  
What news from burgundy, what is his answer?  
What comes he to our succour as he promised?  Scal. 
Not by his good will, for aught that I can see  
He lingers still in his long siege at Nuse.  
I urged his promise and your expectation,  
Even to the force and compass of my spirit,  
I cheered my firm persuasions, with your hopes.  
And gilded them with my best Oratory,  
I framed my speech still fitly as I sound  
The temper of his humour, to be wrought upon,  
But still I found him earthly, unresolved,  
Muddy, and methought ever through his eyes,  
I saw his wavering and unsettled spirit,  
And to be short, subtle and treacherous,  
And one that doth intend no good to you,  
And he will come, and yet he wanteth power,  
He would feign come, but may not leave the siege,  
He hopes he shall, but yet he knows not when,  
He purposed, but some pediments,  
Have hindered his determined intent,  
Briefly, I think he will not come at all.  Ed. 
But is he like to take the town of Nuse?  Sca. 
My Lord the town is liker to take him,  
That if he chance to come to you at all,  
'Tis but for succour.  Ed. 
But what says Count Saint Paul?  Scales. 
My Lord he lies, and revels at S. Quintin's,  
And laughs at Edward's coming into France,  
There Domineering with his drunken crew,  
Make jigs of us, and in their slavering jests,  
Tell how like rogues we lie here in the field,  
Then comes a slave one of those drunken sots,  
In with a Tavern reckoning for a supplication,  
Disguised with a cushion on his head,  
A Drawers Apron for a Herald's Coat.  
And tells the Count, the King of England craves  
One of his worthy honours Dog-kennels,  
To be his lodging for a day or two.  
With some such other Tavern foolery:  
With that this filthy rascal greasy rout,  
Braced out in laughter at this worthy jest,  
Neighing like horses: thus the Count Saint Paul  
Regards his promise to your majesty.  Ed. 
will no man thrust the slave into a sackbut?  Scl. 
Now by this light were I but near the slave with a black Jack I would beat out his brains.  Ho. 
If it please your highness but to say the word,  
we'll pluck him out of Quintin's by the ears.  Ed. 
No cousin Howard, we'll reserve our valour,  
For better purpose, since they both refuse us,  
ourselves will be unrivaled in our honour.  
Now our first cast my Lord is at main France,  
Whilst yet our Army is in health and strong,  
And have we once but broke unto that war,  
I will not leave S. Paul, nor burgundy,  
Not a bare pigscoat to shroud them in.  
Herald.  He. 
My Sovereign.  Ed. 
Go Derauld, I to jews the French King,  
Denounce stern war, and tell him I am come,  
To take possession of my Realm of France.  
Defy him boldly from us, be thy voice  
As fierce as thunder, to affright his soul:  
Derauld be gone I say, and be thy breath,  
Piercing as lightning, and thy words as death  Her. 
I go my Liege resolved to your high will.  Exit. Ed. 
Sound Drum I say, set forward with our power,  
And France ere long expect a dreadful hour,  
I will not take the English standard down,  
Till thou impale my temples with thy Crown.  Enter jews the French king, Bourbon, and S. Pier, with the Herald of England. K. jews. 
Herald of England, we are pleased to hear,  
What message thou hast brought us from thy King,  
Prepare thyself, and be advised in speech.  
English Herald, Right gracious and most Christian king of France,  
I come not to thy presence unprepared  
To do the message of my Royal Liege.  
Edward the Fourth, of England and of France,  
The lawful King, and Lord of Ireland,  
Whose puissant magnanimous breast incensed,  
Through manifest notorious injuries,  
Offered by thee King jews and thy French,  
Against his title to the crown of France,  
And right in all these Dukedoms following,  
Aquitaine, Anjou, Guyen, A guilesme,  
Breathes forth by me the Organ of his speech,  
Hostile defiance to thy realm and thee:  
And trampling now upon the face of France,  
With barbed horse, and valiant armed foot:  
Himself the leader of those martial troops,  
Bids thee to battle, where and when thou darest,  
Except thou make such restitution  
And yearly tribute on good hostages,  
As may content his just conceived wrath,  
And to this message answer I expect.  Lew. 
Right peremptory is this embassage,  
And were my royal Brother of England pleased,  
To entertain those kind affections,  
Where with we do embrace his amity:  
Needless were all these thunder-threatening words,  
Let heaven (where all our thoughts are registered)  
Bear record, with what deep desire of peace,  
We shall subscribe to such conditions,  
As equity for England shall propound,  
If Edward have sustained wrong in France,  
jews was never author of that wrong,  
Yet faultless we will make due recompense,  
We are assured that his majestic thoughts  
In his mild spirit did never mean these wars,  
Till Charles burgundy once our fawning friend,  
But now our open foe, and Count S. Paul,  
Our subject once and Constable of France,  
But now a traitor to our Realm and us,  
Were motives to incite him unto Arms,  
Which having done will leave him on my life.  Her. 
The King my master recks not Burgundy,  
And scorns S. Paul that treacherous Constable,  
His puissance is sufficient in itself,  
To conquer France like his progenitors.  K. L. 
He shall not need to waste by force of war,  
Where peace shall yield him more than he can win:  
We covet peace, and we will purchase it  
At any rate that reason can demand,  
And it is better England join in league  
With us his strong, old, open enemy,  
Than with those weak & new dissembling friends,  
We do secure us from our open foes,  
But trust in friends (though faithless) we repose,  
My Lord S. Piere and cousin Bourbon speak,  
What censure you of Burgundy, and S. Paul?  S. Pi. 
Dread Lord, it is well known that Burgundy  
Made show of tender service to your majesty,  
Till by the engine of his flatteries,  
He made a breach into your Highness love,  
Where entered once and thereof full possess,  
He so abused that royal excellence,  
By getting footing into many towns,  
Castles and forts belonging to your Crown,  
That now he holds them 'gainst your realm & you.  Burb. 
And Count S. Paul the Constable of France,  
Ambitious in that high authority,  
Usurps the lands and Seigneuries of those  
That are true subjects, noble Peers of France,  
Your boundless favours did him first suborn,  
And now to be your Liegeman he thinks scorn.  Lew. 
By this conjecture, the unsteady course,  
Thy royal master undertakes in France,  
And Herald intimate what servant zeal,  
We have to league with Edward and his English,  
three hundred crowns we give thee for reward,  
And of rich Crimson velvet thirty yards,  
In hope thou wilt unto thy Sovereign tell,  
We show thee not one discontented look,  
Nor render him one misbeholden word:  
But his defiance and his dare to war,  
We swallow with the supple oil of peace:  
Which gentle Herald if thou canst procure,  
A thousand crown shall justly guerdon thee.  Her. 
So please it your most sacred Majesty,  
To send unto my gracious Sovereign,  
Equal conditions for the bonds of peace,  
And restitution of his injuries,  
His temper is not of obdurate malice,  
But sweet relenting princely clemency,  
Perform your promise of a thousand crowns,  
And second me with some fit messenger,  
And I will undertake to work your peace.  Lew. 
By the true honour of a Christian King,  
Effect our peace and thou shalt have our crowns,  
And we will post a Herald after thee,  
That shall confirm thy speech, and our designs:  
Go Mugeroune, see to this Herald given  
The velvet, and three hundred crowns preposed,  
Farewell good friend, remember our request,  
And kindly recommend us to King Edward.  Exeunt English Herald and Mugeroune. 
How think you Lords, be't not more requisite  
To make our peace, than war with England's power.  Burb. 
Yes gracious Lord, the wounds are bleeding yet,  
That Talbot, Bedford, and King Henry made,  
Which peace must cure, or France shall languish still.  S. Piere. 
Besides (my Liege) by these intestine foes,  
The Constable and treacherous burgundy,  
The States in danger if the English stir.  Enter Mugeroune. K. Lew. 
'tis perilous, and full of doubt my Lords,  
We must have peace with England every way,  
Who shall be Herald in these high affairs?  Bur. 
No better man than Monsieur Mugeroune,  
Whose wit is sharp, whose eloquence is sound,  
His presence gracious, and his courage good,  
A gentleman, a scholar, and a soldier,  
A complete man for such an Embassage:  
Art thou content to be employed Mugeroune,  
In this negotiation to King Edward?  Mug. 
If your most sacred Majesty command,  
Your humble vassal Mugeroune shall go.  K. Lew. 
Gramercies Mugeroune, but thou must assume,  
A Herald's habit, and his office both,  
To plead our love, and to procure us peace  
With English Edward, for the good of France.  Mug. 
I know the matter and the form my Lord,  
Give me my Herald's coat, and I am gone.  K. Lew. 
Thou art a man composed for business,  
Attend on us for thy instructions.  
And other fit supplies for these affairs,  
And for thy diligence expect reward.  Exeunt. Enter several ways burgundy and the Constable of France. Con. 
Whither away so fast goes Burgundy?  Bur. 
Nay rather whither goes the Constable?  Con. 
Why to King Edward (man) is he not come?  
Meanst thou not like wise to go visit him?  Bur. 
Oh excellent, I know that in thy soul,  
Thou know'st that I do purpose nothing less,  
Nay I do know for all thy outward show,  
Thou hast no meaning once to look on him.  
Brother dissembler, leave this colouring,  
With him that means as falsely as thyself.  Con. 
ay, but thou know'st that Edward on our letters,  
And hoping our assistance when he came,  
Did make this purposed voyage into France,  
And with his forces is he here arrived,  
Trusting that we will keep our word with him.  
Now, though we mean it not, yet set a face  
Upon the matter, as though we intended  
To keep our word with him effectually.  Bur. 
And for my better countenance in this case,  
My lingering siege at Nuse will serve the turn,  
There will I spend the time to disappoint,  
King Edward's hope of my conjoining with him.  Con. 
And I will keep me still here in S. Quintin's,  
Pretending mighty matters for his aid,  
But not performing any on my word,  
The rather Burgundy, because I aim,  
At matters which perhaps may cost your head,  All this aside 
If all hit right to expectation,  
In the mean space like a good crafty knave,  
That hugs the man, he wisheth hanged in heart,  
Keep I fair weather still with Burgundy.  
Till matters fall out for my purpose fit.  
Ici sont mon secrets, beau temps pour moy.  Bur. 
Ici sont mon secrets, beau temps pour moy.  
Are ye so crafty Constable? proceed, proceed,  
You quick sharp sighted man, imagine me  
Blind, witless, and a silly Idiot,  
That pries not into all your policies,  
Who I? no, God doth know my simple wit,  
Can never sound a judgement of such reach,  
As is our cunning Constable of France:  
Persuade thyself so still, and when time serves,  
And that thou art in most extremity,  
Needing my help, then take thou heed of me,  
In meanwhile Sir, you are the only man  
That hath my heart, hath? ay, and great reason too,  
Thus it befits men of deep reach to do.  
Well Constable, you'll back again to Nuse,  
And not aid English Edward?  Con. 
What else man?  
And keep thee in S. Quintin's, so shall we  
Smile at King Edward's weak capacity.  Exeunt. Enter King Edward, with burgundy, Howard, Sellenger, and Scales. K. Ed. 
Tell not me burgundy, 'tis I am wronged,  
And you have dealt like a disloyal Knight.  B. 
Edward of England, these are unkingly words,  King. 
He that will do (my Lord) what he should not,  
Must and shall hear of me what he would not,  
I say again you have deluded me.  Bur. 
Am I not come according to my word?  K. 
No Charles of burgundy, thy word was given  
To meet with me in April, now 'tis August,  
The place appointed Calice, not Lorraine,  
And thy approach to be with martial troops:  
But thou art come, not having in thy train,  
So much as Page or Lackey to attend thee,  
As who should say thy presence were munition,  
And strength enough to answer our expect:  
Summer is almost spent, yet nothing done,  
And all by dalliance with uncertain hope.  Burg. 
My forces lay before the city Nuse,  
From which I could not rise, but with dishonour,  
Unless upon some composition had.  K. Ed. 
There was no such exception in your letters.  
Why smiles Lord Scales?  Scales. 
My man reports my Lord,  
The composition that the Duke there made,  
Was mere compulsion: for the citizens  
drove him from thence perforce.  K. Ed. 
I thought so much:  
We should not yet have seen your excellence,  
But that your heels were better than your hands.  B. 
Lord Scales, thou dost me wrong to slander me.  K. Ed. 
Letting that pass, it shall be seen my Lord,  
That we are able of ourself to claim  
Our right in France, without or your assistance,  
Or any others, but the help of heaven.  Bur. 
I make no question of it, yet the Constable  
priest with no such occasion as I was,  
Might have excused us both if he had pleased.  K. Ed. 
Accuse him not, your cities as we came,  
Were even as much to be condemned as his,  
They gave us leave to lie within the field,  
And scarcely would afford us meat for money.  
This was small friendship in respect of that,  
You had engaged your honour to perform.  
But march we forward as we were determined,  
This is S. Quintin's, where you say my Lord,  
The Constable is ready to receive us.  Bur. 
So much he signified to me by letter.  K. Ed. 
Well we shall see his entertainment: forward.  As they march upon the stage, the Lord Scales is struck down, and two soldiers slain outright, with great shot from the town. 
Fly to our main battle, bid them stand,  
There's treason plotted: speak to me Lord Scales,  
Or if there be no power of life remaining,  
To utter thy heart's grievance, make a sign,  
Two of our common soldiers slain beside,  
This is hard welcome: but it was not you,  
At whom the fatal engineer did aim,  
My breast the level was, though you the mark,  
In which conspiracy answer me Duke,  
Is not thy soul as guilty as the Earls?  Bur. 
Perish my soul, King Edward, if I knew  
Of any such intention: yet I did, and grieve that it  
hath sped no otherwise.  K. Ed. 
Howard and Sellinger?  burgundy steals away. 
What is there hope of life in none of them?  Ho. 
The soldiers are both slain outright my Lord,  
But the Lord Scales a little is recovered.  K. Ed. 
Convey his body to our Pavilion,  
And let our Surgeons use all diligence  
They can devise for safeguard of his life,  
Whilst we with all extremity of war,  
Go plague S. Quintin's: Howard fetch on our powers,  
We will not stir a foot, till we have she wne  
Just vengeance on the Constable of France.  
Oh God, to woo us first to pass the sea,  
And at our coming thus to halt with us,  
I think the like thereof was never seen.  
But where's the Duke?  Scl. 
Gone as it seems my Lord,  
Stepped secretly away, as one that knew  
His conscience would accuse him if he staid.  K. Ed. 
A pair of most dissembling hypocrites,  
Is he and this base Earl, on whom I vow,  
Leaving King Lewis unprejudiced in peace,  
To spend the whole measure of my kindled rage,  
Their streets shall sweat with their effused blood,  
And this bright Sun be darkened with the smoke,  
Of smouldering cinders, when their city lies  
Buried in ashes of revengeful fire,  
On whose pale superstcies in the stead  
Of parchment, with my lance I'll draw these lines,  
Edward of England left this memory,  
In just revenge of hateful treachery.  Enter Howard again. 
Lord Howard have ye done as I commanded?  How. 
Our battles are disposed, and on the brow  
Of every inferior servitor my Lord,  
You might behold destruction figured,  
Greedily thrusting to begin the fight:  
But when no longer they might be restrained,  
And that the drum and trumpet both began  
To sound wars cheerful harmony: behold,  
A flag of truce upon the walls was hanged,  
And forth the gates did issue meekly paced,  
three men, whereof the Constable is one,  
The other two the Gunner and his mate,  
By whose gross oversight (as they report)  
This sudden chance unwittingly befell.  K. Ed. 
Bring forth the Constable: the other two,  
See them safe guarded, till you know our pleasure.  Enter the Constable and Howard. 
Now my Lord Howard, how be't with Scales?  Ho. 
Well my dread Sovereign, now his wound is dressed,  
And by the opinion of the Surgeons,  
It's thought he shall not perish by this hurt.  K. Ed. 
I am the gladder, but unfaithful Earl,  
I do not see how yet I can dispense  
With thy submission, this was not the welcome,  
Your letters sent to England, promised me.  Con. 
Right high and mighty Prince condemn me not,  
That am as innocent in this offence,  
As any soldier in the English army,  
The fault was in our gunner's ignorance,  
Who taking you for Lewis King of France,  
That likewise is within the cities ken,  
Made that unlucky shot to beat him back,  
And not of malice to your majesty,  
To knowledge which, I brought them with myself,  
And thirty thousand crowns within this purse,  
Sent by the Burghers to redeem your lack.  K. Ed. 
Constable of France, we will not sell a drop  
Of English blood, for all the gold in France:  
But in so much two of our men are slain,  
To quit their deaths, those two that came with thee  
Shall both be crammed into a cannon's mouth,  
And so he shot into the town again:  
It is not like but that they knew our Colours,  
And of set purpose did this villainy:  
Nor can I be persuaded thoroughly,  
But that our person was the mark they aimed at;  
Yet are we well content to hold you excused,  
Mary our soldiers must be satisfied,  
And therefore first shall be distributed,  
These crowns amongst them, than you shall return,  
And of your best provision send to us,  
thirty wain load, beside twelve tun of wine.  
This if the Burghers will subscribe unto,  
Their peace is made, otherwise I will proclaim,  
Free liberty for all to take the spoil.  Con. 
Your highness shall be answered presently,  
And I will see these articles performed.  K. Ed. 
Yet one thing more, I will that you my Lord,  
Together with the Duke of burgundy,  
Do ere tomorrow noon bring all your force,  
And toyne with ours, or else we do recant,  
And these conditions shall be frustrate.  C. 
Mine are at hand my Lord, and I will write,  
The Duke may like wise be in readiness.  K. Ed. 
Let him have safe conduct through our army,  
And 'gainst the morning every leader see,  
His troops be furnished, for no longer time,  
God willing shall the trial be deferred,  
Twixt Lewis and us. What echoing sound is this?  Sel. 
A gentleman from the K. of France my Lord,  
Craves parlance with your excellence.  K. Ed. 
A gentleman, bring him in.  
What news a God's name from our brother Lewis?  Enter Mugeroune. Mu. 
Most puissant and most honourable King,  
My royal master, Lewis the King of France,  
Doth greet your Highness with unfeigned love,  
Wishing your health, prosperity, and rule,  
And thus he says by me. When was it seen,  
That ever Lewis pretended hurt to England,  
Either by close conspirators sent over,  
To undermine your state; or openly,  
By taking arms, with purpose to invade?  
Nay when was it, that Lewis was ever heard,  
So much as to detract from Edward's name?  
But still hath done him all his due of speech,  
By blazing to the world his high deserts,  
Of wisdom, valour, and his heroic birth:  
Whence is it then that Edward is incensed,  
To render hate for love, for amity stern war?  
Not of himself we know: but by the means  
Of some infectious counsel, that like mud,  
Would spoil the pure temper of his noble mind,  
It is the Duke, and that pernicious rebel,  
Earl of S. Paul, have set abroach these wars,  
Who of themselves, unable to proceed,  
Would make your Grace the instrument of wrong,  
And when you have done what you can for them,  
You shall be sure of nothing but of this,  
Still to be doubled and dissembled with.  
But if it might seem gracious in your eye,  
To cast off these despised confederates,  
Unfit companions for so great a Prince,  
And join in league with Lewis my royal master,  
Him shall you find as willing as of power,  
To do your Grace all offices of love:  
And what commodity may spring thereby,  
To both the Realms, your Grace is wise enough,  
Without my rude suggestions to imagine,  
Besides, much bloodshed for this present time,  
Will be prevented when two such personages,  
Shall meet together to shake hands in peace,  
And not with shock of Lance and curtle-axe,  
That Lewis is willing, I am his substitute,  
And he himself in person if you please,  
Not far from hence will signify as much.  K. Ed. 
Sir, withdraw and give us leave a while,  
To take advisement of our Counsellors,  
What say ye Lords unto this proffered truce?  Ho. 
In my conceit let it not be slipped my Lord.  Sel. 
Wilt not be dishonour having landed  
So great an army in these parts of France,  
And not to fight before we do return:  Ho. 
How can it when the enemy submits,  
And of himself makes tender of allegiance?  Sel. 
I that's the question whether he will yield,  
And do King Edward fealty or no.  Ed. 
What talk ye Lords? he shall subscribe to that,  
Or no conditions I'll accept at all.  Ho. 
Let him be bound my Lord to pay your Grace,  
Toward your expenses, since your coming over,  
seventy fine thousand crowns of the Sun,  
And yearly after fifty thousand more,  
During your life, with homage there withal,  
That he doth hold his royalty from you,  
And take his offer, 'twill not be amiss.  Ed. 
It shall be so, draw you the articles,  
And Sellinger call forth the messenger,  
Bring with thee too a cup of massy gold,  
And bid the bearer of our privy purse,  
enclose therein a hundred English Rials,  
Friend we do accept thy master's League,  
With no less firm affection than he craves,  
If he will meet us here betwixt our tents,  
It shall on both sides be confirmed by oath,  
On this condition that he will subscribe,  
To certain Articles shall be proposed,  
And so thou hast thy answer, to requite  
Thy pains herein, we give to thee this cup.  Her. 
Health and increase of honour wait on Edward.  Ed. 
Lord Howard bring the Frenchman on his way.  Ed. 
King Lewis is one that never was precise:  
But now Lord Howard and Tom Sellinger,  
There is a task remains for you to do,  
And that is this, you two shall be disguised,  
And one of you repair to burgundy,  
The other to the Constable of France,  
Where you shall learn in secret if you can,  
If they intend to meet us here tomorrow,  
Or how they take this our accord with France,  
Somewhat it gives me you will bring from thence  
Worthy the noting, will you undertake it?  Sel. 
With all my heart my L. I am for burgundy.  How. 
And I am for the Constable of France.  Exeunt. Ed. 
Make speed again, what news?  Mest. 
The king of France my L. attended royally,  
Is marching hitherward to meet your Grace.  Ed. 
He shall be welcome, hast thou drawn the articles?  Mess. 
Yes my dread Sovereign.  Ed. 
Go, call forth our train,  
We may receive him with like majesty.  Enter certain Noblemen and Soldiers with a Drum, they march about the stage, then enter king Lewis, and his train, and meet with King Edward, the Kings embrace. K. Lewis. 
My princely brother, we are grieved much,  
To think you have been at so great a charge,  
And toiled your royal self so far from home,  
Upon the unconstant promise of those men,  
That both dissemble with your Grace and me.  K. Ed. 
Brother of France, you might condemn us rightly,  
Not only of great wrong and toil sustained,  
But of exceeding folly, if incited,  
We had presumed to enter these Dominions,  
Upon no other reason then the word,  
And weak assistance of the Earl S. Paul,  
Or Burgundy's persuasion: 'tis our right,  
That wings the body of composed war,  
And though we listened to their flatteries,  
Yet so we shaped the course of our affairs,  
As of ourself we might be able found,  
Without the trusting to a broken staff.  Lew. 
I know your majesty had more discretion,  
But this is not the occasion of our meeting,  
If you be pleased to entertain a peace,  
My kingly brother in the sight of these,  
And of the all-discovering eye of heaven,  
Let us embrace, for as my life I swear,  
I tender England and your happiness.  K. Ed. 
The like do I by you and warlike France:  
But princely brother ere this knot be knit,  
There are some few conditions to be signed,  
That done, I am as ready as yourself.  K. Lew. 
Fair brother, let us hear them what they be.  K. Ed. 
Herald repeat the articles.  Her. 
First it is covenanted that Lewis King of France, according to the custom of his predecessors, shall do homage to King Edward, King of England, as his Sovereign and true heir to all the Dominions of France.  Burb. 
How as his Sovereign? that were to depose  
And quite bereave him of his Diadem,  
Will kingly Lewis stoop to such vassalage?  K. Ed. 
Bourbon and if he will not let him choose.  K. Lew. 
Brother have patience, Bourbon seal your lips,  
And interrupt not these high consequents.  
Forward Herald, what is else demanded?  Her. 
Secondly it is covenanted that Lewis King of France, shall pay unto Edward King of England, immediately upon the agreement betwixt their Majesties, seventy five thousand crowns of the sun, toward the charge King Edward hath been at since his arrival in these parts of France.  Burb. 
Mort dieu, he'll neither leave him Crown nor coin.  K. Lew. 
Bourbon I say be silent, Herald read on.  Her. 
Thirdly and lastly, it is covenanted, that over and beside those seventy five thousand crowns of the sun, now presently to be paid, Lewis King of France shall yearly hereafter, during the life of Edward King of England, pay fifty thousand crowns more without fraud or guile, to be tendered at his majesties Castle, commonly called the Tower of London.  Burb. 
Nay bind him that he bring his Lordship a couple of  
Capons too every year beside.  
Here is a peace indeed far worse than war.  K. Ed. 
Brother of France are you resolved to do,  
According as you hear the covenants drawn?  K. Lew. 
Brother of England, mount your royal throne,  
For subjects weal, and glory of my God,  
And to deal justly with the world beside,  
Knowing your title to be lineal,  
From the great Edward of that name the third,  
Your predecessor, thus I do resign,  
Giving my Crown and Sceptre to your hand,  
As an obedient Liegeman to your Grace.  K Ed. 
The same do I deliver back again,  
With as large interest as you had before.  
Now for the other covenants.  K. Lew. 
Those my Lord,  
Shall likewise be performed with expedition,  
And ever after, as you have prescribed,  
The yearly pension shall be truly paid.  Her. 
Swear on this book King Lewis so help you God,  
You mean no otherwise than you have said.  K. Lew. 
So help me God as I dissemble not.  K. Ed. 
And so help he me as I intend to keep,  
Unfeigned league and truce with noble France:  
And kingly brother now to consummate,  
This happy day feast in our royal tent,  
English and French are one, so it is meant.  Exeunt. Enter at one door, burgundy chafing, with him Sellinger disguised like a soldier; at another the Constable of France, with him Howard in the like disguise. Bur. 
A peace concluded, sayest thou? be't not so?  Sel. 
My Lord I do assure you it is so.  Con. 
And thou affirmest the like? say, dost thou not?  How. 
I do my Lord, and that for certainty.  Bur. 
I have found it now, the villain Constable  
Hath secretly with Edward thus compact,  
To join our King and him in amity,  
And thereby doubtless got into his hands,  
Such lands and Dukedoms as I aimed at,  
And leaves me disappointed in my hope,  
A plague upon such crafty cozening,  aside. 
Now shall I be a mark for them to aim at,  
And that boil slave to triumph in my toil.  Con. 
'tis so, for it can be no otherwise,  
burgundy hath been privy to this plot,  
Conspires with Lewis and the English King,  
To save his own stake, and assure himself,  
Of all those Seigneuries I hoped for,  
And thereupon this close peace is contrived,  
Now must the Constable be as a butt,  
For all their bullets to be leveled at,  
Hell and hot vengeance light on burgundy,  
For this his subtle secret villainy.  Bur. 
Well fellow for thy pains take that,  
Leave me alone, for I am much displeased.  to Sel. Con. 
And get thee gone my friend, there's for thy pains, to Howard.  
So leave me to myself.  Sel. 
Fare ye well Sir, I hope I have peppered ye.  How. 
And so I think have I my Constable.  Exeunt Sellin. and How. Bur. 
Now Constable, this peace, this peace,  
What think ye of it man?  Con. 
Nay rather what thinks burgundy?  Bur. 
I think he that did contrive the same,  
Was little less than a dissembling villain.  Con. 
Dog bite thyself, come on, come on,  
Have not you played john for the King,  
To save yourself Sir?  Bur. 
ay, art thou good at that?  
Adieu Sir, I may chance to hit you pat.  Exit. Con. 
You may Sir, I perhaps may be before ye,  
And for this cunning through the nose to bore ye.  Exeunt. Enter King Edward, King Lewis, Howard, Sellinger, and their train. K. Ed. 
So Sellinger, we then perceive by thee  
The Duke is passing angry at our league?  Sel. 
ay, my dread Lord beyond comparison,  
Like a mad dog snatching at every one  
That passeth by: shall I but show you how,  
And act the manner of his tragic fury?  K. 
No stay a while, methought I heard thee say,  
They meant to greet us by their messengers.  Sel. 
They did my Lord.  King. 
What and the Constable too?  How. 
My Sovereign yes.  King. 
But how took he the news?  How. 
Faith even as discontented as might be,  
But being a more deep melancholist,  
And sullener of temper then the Duke,  
He chaws his malice, fumes & froths at mouth,  
Uttering but little more than what we gather  
By his disturbed looks and riveled front,  
Saving that now and then his boiling passion,  
Damned up as in a furnace, finding vent  
Breaks through his severed lips into short pusses,  
And then he mumbles forth a word or two,  
As doth a toothless Monk when he's at matins.  K. 
Oh it was sport alone to note their carriage,  Se. 
Sport my Lord? will you but hear me speak,  
And if I do not weary you with laughter,  
near trust Tom Sellinger more upon his word.  Sound a Trumpet. K. 
I pray thee peace, by this it should appear  
One of their messengers is come, go see,  
Upon my life we shall have some devise,  
Of new dissimulation how now Tom?  Sel. 
'tis as your highness did suppose my Lord,  
Here is a messenger from burgundy.  King. 
Excellent good, admit him presently,  
And brother of France, let me entreat your grace  
To stand aside a little in my tent,  
lest finding us together, he refrain,  
To tell the message he is sent about,  
So sure I am persuaded we shall find  
Some notable piece of knavery set a foot.  K. L. 
With all my heart, urge him speak loud enough,  
That I my Lord may understand him too.  Exit. Enter the Lord of Conte. K. Ed. 
Fear not, I have the method in my mind:  
What it is you my Lord of Conte welcome.  
How doth the valiant Duke, in health I hope?  Co. 
In health (my Lord) of body, though in mind  
Somewhat distempered, that your Grace hath joined  
In league with his professed enemy.  K. E. 
How say you that my Lord? pray you speak out,  
For I of late, by reason of a cold,  
Am somewhat thick of hearing.  Con. 
Thus my Lord,  
Your Grace demanded if the Duke were well,  
I answer you, he is in health of body,  
Though inwardly in mind somewhat perplexed,  
That you without his knowledge have ta'en truce  
With childish jews that heartless King of France.  K. Ed. 
With whom I pray ye a little louder sir.  C. 
With childish jews that heartless K. of France.  K. Ed. 
I now do understand you, is it that  
He takes unkindly? why if he had come  
With his expected forces as he promised,  
I had been still uncapable of peace,  
But he deceiving me, the fault was his.  Con. 
No my good Lord, the fault was not in him,  
But in that lewd pernicious counterfeit,  
That crafty Fore the Constable of France,  
Who counselled him to keep him at his siege,  
Saying it would be more dishonourable  
To rise from thence, than any way profitable,  
To meet your Majesty, beside my Lord,  
It hath been proved since, how much the Constable  
Hates your proceedings, by that wilful shot,  
Was made against you from S. Quintin's walls,  
Which though he seemed to colour with fair speech,  
The truth is, they did level at yourself,  
And grieved when they heard you were not slain.  K. Ed. 
May I be bold to credit your report?  Con. 
The Duke upon his honour bade me say,  
That it was true, and there withal quoth he,  
Tell noble Edward if he will recant,  
And fall from jews again, knowing it is  
More for his dignity to be sole King,  
And conquer France as did his ancestors,  
Then take a fee, and so be satisfied,  
That I am ready with twelve thousand soldiers  
All well appointed, and not only will,  
Deliver him the Constable of France,  
That he may punish him as he sees good,  
But seat him in the throne imperial,  
Which now another basely doth usurp,  K. E. 
Speak that again, I heard not your last words  Con. 
But seat you in the throne imperial,  
Which now another basely doth usurp.  King. 
I thank his honour for his good regard,  
Pleaseth you stay till we have paused upon it,  
And you shall have our answer to the Duke,  
Tom Sellinger receive him to your tent,  
And let him taste a cup of Orleans wine,  
Now my kingly brother, have you heard this news?  K. L. 
So plainly my Lord, that I scarce held myself,  
From stepping forth, hearing my royal name,  
So much profaned and slubbered as it was,  
But I do weigh the person like himself  
From whence it came, a sly dissembler,  
And spite my anger I was forced sometime,  
To smile to think the Duke doth hang his friend,  
Behind his back, whom to his face he smooths.  K. E. 
But we shall have far better sport anon:  
Howard tells me that another messenger,  
is come in post-haste from the Constable,  
As you have begun with patience hear the rest.  K. Le. 
No more ado, i'll to my place again,  
Remember that you still be deaf my Lord,  K. E. 
I warrant you, Howard, call in the messenger.  Enter the messenger from the Constable. Mes. 
Health to the victorious King of England:  K. E. 
Tell him he must strain out his voice aloud,  
For I am somewhat deaf, and cannot hear.  How. 
His Majesty requests you to speak out,  
Because his hearing is of late decayed.  Mes. 
The worthy Earl S. Paul.  King.. Ed. 
Come near me.  Mes. 
The worthy Earl S. Paul greets noble Edward.  
And gives your grace to understand by me,  
That whereas Charles that painted sepulchre,  
And most disloyal Duke of burgundy,  
Hath but usurped the habit of a friend,  
Being in heart your deadly enemy,  
As well appears in his false breach of promise,  
And that whereas he never meant himself,  
To send you aid, but likewise was the means,  
To hinder my Lords well affected duty,  
Alleging you desired his company  
But that you might betray him to his King,  
Beside whereas it will be proud my Lord,  
That he did hire the Gunner of S. Quintin's,  
For a large sum of money, to discharge  
three several pieces of great ordinance,  
Upon your coming to that cursed town,  
To slay your Majesty: in which regard  
If it will please you to revoke from France.  
And think of burgundy as he deserves,  
The Duke with expedition bade me say,  
That he would put the Earl into your hands.  
Whereby you might revenge his treacherous purpose  
And aid you too with twice five thousand men,  
And seat you like a conqueror in France,  K. Ed. 
Can it seem possible that two such friends,  
So firmly knit together as they were,  
Should on a sudden now be such great foes  M. 
The Earl my Lord could never abide the Duke  
Since his last treason against your sacred person,  
Before Saint Quintin's came to open light.  K. 
Was that the cause of their dissension then  Mes. 
It was my lord.  K. Ed. 
Well I will think upon't,  
And you shall have our answer by and by,  
cousin Howard take him aside,  
But let him be kept from the other's sight.  Ho. 
Sir will you walk in, my Lord will take advise,  
And so dispatch you back again unto the Earl,  K. Le. 
Here's buying of villainy who shall have all,  
Fraud with deceit, deceit with fraud outfaced,  
I would the devil were there to cry swoopstake,  
But how intends your Grace to deal with them?  K. Ed. 
Faith in their kind, I am the steel you see,  
Against the which their envy being struck,  
The Sparkles of hypocrisy fly forth,  
'twere not amiss to quench them in their blood.  Enter another messenger to the king of France with letters. Mes. 
My Lord here's letters to your Majesty, One from the Duke of burgundy, the other from the Constable,  K. L. 
More villainy, a thousand crowns to nothing:  K. p. 
Can there be more than is already broached,  
We thinks they have already done so well,  
As this may serve to bring them both to hell.  K. L. 
No, no, they are indifferently well laden,  
But yet their fraught, not full, see other ware,  
Other provision to prepare their way,  
The very same (my Lord) which they pretend,  
In love to you against my life and crown,  
The same they undertake to do for me  
Against your safety, urging if I please,  
That they will join their forces both with mine,  
And in your back return to Calice, cut the throats  
Of you and all your soldiers.  K. Ed. 
Oh damnable.  
But that I see it figured in these lines,  
I would have sworn there had been nothing left,  
For their pernicious brain to work upon.  K. L. 
A traitor is like, a boldfaced hypocrite,  
That never will be brought unto a nonplus,  
So long as he hath liberty to speak.  K. Ed. 
The way to cure them, is to cut them off,  
Call forth their messengers once more to us,  How. 
Both of them my Lord?  K. Ed. 
Yes, both together.  
we'll see if they have grace to blush or no,  
At that their masters shame now to attempt.  Enter both the Messengers. Con. 
What is his Majesty of France so near?  
And monsieur Rosse the Earl's secretary?  
I fear some hurt depends upon his presence,  M. 
How comes it that I see the french King here?  
I and the Lord of County too methinks,  
Pray God our message be not made a scorn.  K. E. 
You told me that you came from earl S. Paul.  Mes. 
I did my Lord, and therein fabled not.  K. Ed. 
You told me too of many kind endeavours  
Which he intended for our benefit?  Mes. 
No more than he is willing to perform.  K. Ed. 
Know you his hand-writing if you see't?  Mes. 
I do my Lord.  K. Ed. 
Is this his hand or not:  Mes. 
I cannot say but that it is his hand.  K. Ed. 
How comes it then that underneath his hand  
My death is sought, when you that are his mouth,  
Tune to our ears a quite contrary tale?  
The like read you deciphered in this paper,  
Concerning treacherous wavering burgundy,  
Unless you grant they can divide themselves,  
And of two shapes become four substances,  
How is it I should have their knightly aid,  
And yet by them be utterly destroyed?  K. L. 
And I to be protected by their means,  
And yet they shall conspire against my life.  K. Ed. 
What call you this, but vile hypocrisy?  K. L. 
Nay peasant-like unheard of treachery  Con. 
My Lord upbraid not me with this offence:  
I do protest I knew of no such letters.  
Nor any other intention of the Duke,  
More than before was uttered in my message.  Sel. 
Will you be halting too before a cripple?  
Do you not remember what they were,  
That first did certify the Duke of truce,  
Betwixt the renowned Edward and the French?  Co. 
Yes they were two soldiers, what of that?  Sel. 
Those soldiers were this Gentleman and I,  
Where we did hear the foul mouthed Duke exclaim  
Against our noble Sovereign and this Prince,  
And roared and bellowed like a parish bull,  
And that in hearing both of you and him,  
His words so please my Lord I can repeat,  
As he did speak them at that very time.  K. Ed. 
Well they are messengers, & for that cause  
We are content to bear with their amiss,  
But keep them safe, and let them not return,  
To carry tales unto those counterfeits,  
Until you have them both as fast ensnared,  
To compass which the better, brother of France,  
Five thousand of our soldiers here we leave,  
To be employed in service to that end,  
The rest with us to England shall return.  Exit. Enter Chorus. Ch. 
King Edward is returned home to England,  
And jews King of France soon afterward,  
Surprised both his subtle enemies,  
Rewarding them with traitorous recompense.  
Now do we draw the curtain of our Scene,  
To speak of Shore and his fair wife again,  
With other matters thereupon depending,  
You must imagine since you saw him last  
Prepared for travail, he hath been abroad,  
And seen the sundry fashions of the world,  
Ulysses like, his country's love at length,  
Hoping his wives death, and to see his friends,  
Such as did sorrow for his great mishaps,  
Come home is he, but so unluckily,  
As he is like to lose his life thereby:  
His and her fortunes shall we now pursue,  
Graced with your gentle sufferance & view.  Exeunt. Enter mistress Shoare with jockey her man, and some attendants more, and is met by sir Robert brackenbury. jane Shore. 
Have ye bestowed our small benevolence,  
On the poor prisoners in the common jail,  
Of the white Lion and the king's bench?  Jockey. 
Yes forsooth?  jane. 
What prisons this?  Jockey. 
The Marshalsea for sooth.  Enter sir Robert brackenbury. Bra. 
Well met fair Lady, in the happiest time,  
And choicest place that my desire could wish,  
Without offence, where have ye been this way?  Ia. 
To take the air here in Saint George's field,  
Sir Robert brackenbury, and to visit some  
Poor patients that cannot visit me.  Bra. 
Are you a physician?  jane. 
I a simple one.  Bra. 
What disease cure ye?  jane. 
Faith none perfectly,  
My physic doth but mitigate the pain  
A little while, and then it comes again.  Bra. 
Sweet mistress Shore, I understand ye not.  jane. 
Master lieutenant I believe you well.  Jockey. 
Good faith Sir Robert brobenbellie, may masters speaks deftly and truly, for she hes been till see those that cannot come till see her: and theyes patients perforce. The prisoner's man in the twea prisons. And she hes gi'en tham her siller and her gear till bay tham fude.  Bra. 
Gramercies jockey thou resolv'st my doubt.  
A comfort ministering kind physician,  
That once a week in her own person visits,  
The prisoners and the poor in Hospitals,  
In London or near London every way,  
Whose purse is open to the hungry soul,  
Whose piteous heart save many a tall man's life.  jane. 
Peace good sir Robert, 'tis not worthy praise,  
Nor yet worth thanks, that is of duty done,  
For you know well, the world doth know too well,  
That all the coals of my poor charity,  
Cannot consume the scandal of my name,  
What remedy? well, tell me gentle knight,  
What meant your kind salute and gentle speech,  
At our first meeting, when you seemed to bless  
The time and place of our encounter here?  Bra. 
Lady there lies here prisoned in the Marshalsea,  
A gentleman of good parents and good descent.  
My dear near kinsman, Captain harry Stranguidge,  
As tall a skilful Navigator tried,  
As ere set foot in any ship at sea,  
Whose luck it was to take a prize of France,  
As he from Rochell was for London bound:  
For which (except his pardon be obtained,  
By some especial favourite of the King).  
He and his crew, a company of proper men,  
Are sure to die, because 'twas since the League.  jane. 
Let me see him and all his company.  Bra. 
Keeper bring forth the Captain & his crew.  Enter Keeper, Stranguidge, Shoare disguised, and three more fettered. Jockey. 
Now say o'th' diell, that sick bonny men sud be hampered like blue jades, weas me for ye good Lads.  Bra. 
I cousin harry, this is mistress Shore,  
Peerless in Court, for beauty, bounty, pity.  jane views them all. 
And if she can not save thee, thou must die.  Stran. 
Will she if she can?  Bra. 
I cousin Stranguidge I.  Sho. 
O torment worse than death to see her face,  
That caused her shame, & my unjust disgrace,  Sho. aside 
O that our mutual eyes were, Basilisks,  
To kill each other at his interview,  Bra. 
How like ye him Lady? you have viewed him well?  jane. 
I pity him, and that same proper man,  
That turns his back, ashamed of this distress.  Sho. 
Ashamed of thee, cause of my heaviness?  Ia. 
And all the rest, oh were the king returned,  
There might be hope, but ere his coming home,  
They may be tried, condemned, and judged, and dead.  Sho. 
I am condemned by sentence of defame,  aside. 
O were I dead I might not see my shame.  Bra. 
Your credit Lady may prolong their trial,  
What judge is he that will give you denial:  Ia. 
I'll rack my credit, and will launch my crowns,  
To save their lives, if they have done no murder.  aside. Sh. 
O thou hast cracked thy credit with a crown.  
And murdered me poor Mathew Shore alive.  Stran. 
Fair Lady, we did shed no drop of blood  
Nor cast one Frenchman over board, and yet,  
Because the league was made before the fact,  
Which we poor sea men God knows never heard:  
We doubt our lives, yea though we should restore  
Treble the value that we took, and more.  
'twas lawful prize when I put out to sea,  
And warranted in my commission.  
The kings are since combined in amity,  
(Long may it last) and I unwittingly  
Have took a Frenchman since the truce was tanc  
And if I die, via, one day I must.  
And God will pardon all my sins I trust,  
My grief will be for these poor harmless men,  
Who thought my warrant might suborn the deed,  
Chiefly that Gentleman that stands sadly there,  
Who on (my soul) was but a passenger.  jane. 
Well Captain Stranguidge, were the king at home,  
I could say more.  Stran. 
Lady, he's come ashore.  
Last night at Dover, my boy came from thence,  
And saw his highness land.  jane. 
Then courage sirs  
I'll use my fairest means to save your lives,  
In the mean season spend that for my sake.  casts her purse. Enter Lord marquess Dorset, and claps her on the shoulder. Mar. 
By your leave mistress Shore, I have taken pains,  
To find you out, come you must go with me.  jane. 
Whither my Lord?  Mar. 
Unto the Queen my mother.  jane. 
Good my Lord marquess Dorset wrong me not.  Mar. 
I can not wrong thee as thou wrong'st my mother,  
I'll bring thee to her let her use her pleasure.  jane. 
Against my will I wrong her good my Lord,  
Yet am ashamed to see her majesty.  
Sweet Lord excuse me, say ye saw me not.  Mar. 
Shall I delude my mother for a whore?  
No mistress Shore ye must go to the Queen.  jane. 
Must I my Lord? what will she do to me?  
Use violence on me now the kings away?  
Alas my Lord, behold this shower of tears,  
Which kind King Edward would compassionate,  
Bring me not to her, she will slit my nose.  
Or mark my face, or spurn me unto death.  
Look on me Lord, can ye find in your heart?  
To have me spoiled that never thought you harm?  
O rather with your rapier run me through,  
Then carry me to the displeased Queen.  Shoare. 
O hadst thou never broke thy how to me  
From fear and wrong had I defended thee.  Mar. 
I am inexorable, therefore arise,  
And go with me, what rascal crew is this,  
Mistress shores suitors, such slaves make her proud,  
What sir Robert brackenbury you a Shorist too?  Bra. 
No Shorist, but to save my Cousin's life.  Mar. 
Then i'll be hanged if he escape for this,  
The rather for your means to mistress Shore.  
My mother can do nothing, this whore all,  
Come away minion you shall prate no more.  Ia. 
Pray for me friends and I will pray for you,  
God send you better hap than I expect,  
Go to my lodging you, and if I perish,  
Take what is there in am of your true service.  Ioc. 
Na a may sale ayse near forsake my good mistress,  
Till aye hea seen than worst that spite can du her.  Exeunt marquess, and jane and theirs. Sho. 
For all the wrong that thou hast done to me,  
They should not hurt thee yet if I were free.  Bra. 
See cousin Stranguidge how the case is changed,  
She that should help thee can not help herself.  Stran. 
What remedy? the God of heaven helps all.  
What say ye mates? our hope of life is dashed,  
Now none but God, let's put our trust in him,  
And every man repent him of his sin,  
And as together we have lived like men,  
So like tall men together let us die:  
The best is if we die for this offence,  
Our ignorance shall plead our innocence,  Keep. 
Your meat is ready (Captain) you must in.  Stran. 
Must I? I will: cousin what will you do?  Bra. 
Visit you soon, but now I will to Court  
To see what shall become of mistress Shore.  Stran. 
God speed ye well.  Keep. 
Come sir will you go in?  Sho. 
I'll eat no meat, give me leave to walk here,  
Am I now left alone? no millions  
Of miseries attend me everywhere:  
Ah Mathew Shore, how doth all seeing heaven,  
Punish some sin, from thy blind conscience hid?  
Inflicting pain where all thy pleasure was,  
And by my wife came all these woes to pass,  
She falsed her faith, and broke her wedlock's band,  
Her honour fallen, how could my credit stand?  
Yet will not I poor jane on thee exclaim,  
Though guilty thou, I guiltless suffer shame.  
I left this land too little for my grief,  
Returning, am accounted as a these,  
Who in that ship came but a passenger,  
To see my friends, hoping the death of her,  
At fight of whom some sparks of former love,  
(Hid in affections ashes) pity move,  
Kindling compassion in my broken heart,  
That bleeds to think on her ensuing smart.  
O see weak women's imperfections,  
That leave their husbands safe protections,  
Hazarding all on strangers flatteries,  
Whose lust alaid, leaves them to miseries,  
See what dishonour breach of wedlock brings,  
Which is not safe even in the arms of kings:  
Thus do I jane lament thy present state,  
Wishing my tears thy torments might abate.  Exit. Enter the Queen, marquis Dorset leading mistress Shoare, who falls down on her knees before the Queen fearful and weeping. Qu. 
Now (as I am a Queen) a goodly creature,  
Son how was she attended where you found her?  Mar. 
madam I found her at the Marshalsea,  
Going to visit the poor prisoners,  
As she came by, having been to take the air,  
And there the keeper told me she oft deals  
Such bounteous alms as seldom hath been seen.  Qu. 
Now before God, she would make a gallant Queen,  
But good son Dorset stand aside a while.  
God save your majesty my Lady Shore,  
My Lady Shore said I? Oh blasphemy,  
To wrong your title with a Lady's name,  
Queen Shore, nay rather Empress Shore,  
God save your grace, your majesty, your highness  
Lord I want titles, you must pardon me:  
What? you kneel there, king Edward's bedfellow  
And I your subject sit? fie, fie for shame.  
Come take your place, & I'll kneel where you do,  
I may take your place, you have taken mine,  
Good Lord that you will so debase yourself:  
I am sure you are our sister Queen at least.  
Nay that you are, then let us sit together.  jane. 
Great Queen, yet hear me, if my sin committed,  
Have not stopped up all passage to your mercy,  
To tell the wrongs that I have done your highness,  
Might make revenge exceed extremity,  
Oh had I words or tongue to utter it,  
To plead my woman's weakness, & his strength,  
That was the only worker of my fall.  
Even innocence herself would blush for shame,  
Once to be named or spoken of in this,  
Let them expect for mercy whose offence,  
May but be called sin, oh mine is more,  
Prostrate as earth, before your highness feet,  
Inflict what torments you shall think most meet.  Ma. 
Spurn the whore (mother) tear those enticing eyes,  
That robbed you of King Edward's dearest love.  
Mangle those locks, the baits to his desires,  
Let me come to her, you but stand and talk,  
As if revenge consisted but in words.  Qu. 
Son stand aloof, and do not trouble me,  
Alas poor soul, as much ado have I,  aside. 
To for bear tears to keep her company.  
Yet once more will I to my former humour.  
Why as I am, think that thou wert a Queen,  
And I as thou should wrong thy princely bed,  
And win the king thy husband, as thou mine:  
Would it not sting thy soul? Or if that I  
Being a Queen, while thou didst love thy husband:  
Should but have done as thou hast done to me,  
Would it not grieve thee? yes I warrant thee.  
There's not the meanest woman that doth live,  
But if she like and love her husband well,  
She had rather feel his warm limbs in her bed  
Then see him in the arms of any Queen,  
You are flesh and blood as we, and we as you,  
And all alike in our affections,  
Though majestic makes us the more ambitious.  
What 'tis to fall into so great a hand,  
Knowledge might teach thee. There was once a king  
Henry the second, who did keep his leman,  
Caged up at Woodstock in a Labyrinth,  
His Queen yet got a trick to find her out,  
And how she used her, I am sure thou hast heard,  
Thou art not mewed up in some secret place,  
But kept in Court here underneath my nose,  
Now in the absence of my Lord the King,  
Have I not time most fitting for revenge?  
Fair Rosamond, she a pure virgin was,  
Until the King seduced her to his will.  
She wronged but one bed, only the angry Queens,  
But thou hast wronged two, mine & thy husbands,  
Be thine own judge, and now in justice see,  
What due revenge I ought to take on thee.  Ia. 
even what you will (great Queen) here do I lie,  
Humble and prostrate at your highness feet,  
Inflict on me what may revenge your wrong,  
Was never lamb abode more patiently,  
Than I will do. Call all your griefs to mind,  
And do even what you will, or how likes you,  
I will not stir, I will not shriek or cry,  
Be it torture poison, any punishment,  
Was never Done, or Turtle more submiss,  
Than I will be unto your chastisement.  M. 
Fetched I her for this? mother let me come to her,  
And what compassion will not suffer you  
To do to her, refer the same to me.  Qu. 
Touch her not son, upon thy life I charge thee,  
But keep off still, if thou wilt have my love.  Exit. Ma. 
I am glad to hear ye are so well resolved,  
To bear the burden of my just displeasure.  She draws forth a knife, and making as though she meant to spoil her face, runs to her, and falling on her knees, embraces and kisses her, casting away the knife. 
Thus then I'll do, alas poor soul,  
Shall I weep with thee? in faith poor heart I will,  
Be of good comfort, thou shalt have no harm,  
But if that kisses have the power to kill thee,  
Thus, thus, and thus, a thousand times i'll stab thee.  
jane I forgive thee: what fort is so strong,  
But with besieging he will batter it?  
Weep not (sweet jane) alas I know thy sex,  
Touched with the self-same weakness that thou art,  
And if my state had been as mean as thine,  
And such a beauty to allure his eye,  
(Though I may promise much to mine own strength)  
What might have happed to me, I cannot tell.  
Nay fear not, for I speak it with my heart,  
And in thy sorrow truly bear a part.  Ia. 
Most high and mighty Queen, may I believe  
There can be found such mercy in a woman,  
And in a Queen, more than in a wife,  
So deeply wronged as I have wronged you?  
In this bright crystal mirror of your mercy,  
I see the greatness of my sin the more,  
And makes my fault more odious in mine eyes,  
Your princely pity now doth wound me more,  
Than all your threatenings ever did before.  Q. 
Rise my sweet jane, I say thou shalt not kneel,  
Oh God for bid, that Edward's Queen should hate  
Her, whom she knows he both so dearly love,  
My love to her, may purchase me his love.  
jane, speak well unto the King of me and mine,  
Remember not my sons o'erhasty speech,  
Thou art my sister, and I love thee so.  
I know thou mayest do much with my dear Lord,  
Speak well of us to him in any case,  
And I and mine will love and cherish thee.  jane. 
All I can do is all too little too,  
Tut to requite the least part of this grace,  
The dearest thoughts that harbour in this breast,  
Shall in your service only be expressed.  Enter King Edward angrily, his Lords following, and sir Robert brackenbury. King. 
What is my jane with her? it is too true,  
See where she hath her down upon her knees.  
Why how now Bess? what, will ye wrong my jane?  
Come hither love, what hath she done to thee?  jane falls on her Knees to the King. jane. 
Oh royal Edward, love, love, thy beauteous Queen,  
The only perfect mirror of her kind,  
For all the choicest virtues can be named.  
Oh let not my bewitching looks withdraw  
Your dear affections from your dearer Queen,  
But to requite the grace that she hath shown,  
To me the worthless creature on this earth,  
To banish me the Court immediately,  
Great King let me but beg one boon of thee,  
That shores wife near do her more injury.  As jane kneels on one side the king, so the Queen steps and kneels on the other. Qu. 
Nay then i'll beg against her royal Edward,  
Love thy jane still, nay more if more may be,  kissing her. 
And this is all the harm that at my hands  
She shall endure for it, Oh where my Edward loves,  
It ill beseems his Queen to grudge thereat.  King. 
Sayest thou me so Bess, on my kingly word,  
Edward will honour thee in heart for this:  
But trust me Bess, I greatly was afraid,  
I should not find ye in so good a tune,  
How now, what would our Constable of the Tower?  Bra. 
The Queen and mistress Shore do know my suit.  Qu. 
It is for Stranguidge and his men at sea,  
Edward needs must you pardon them.  King. 
Have I not vowed the contrary already?  
Dishonour me when I have made a league?  
My word is past, and they shall suffer death,  
Or nevermore let me see France again.  jane. 
Why there is one was but a passenger.  
Shall he die too?  King. 
Pass me no passage jane, were he in company, he dies for company.  Qu. 
Good jane entreat for them.  jane. 
Come Edward, I must not take this answer.  
Needs must I have some grace for Stranguidge.  King. 
Why jane, have I not denied my Queens  
Yet what be't jane I would deny to thee?  
I prithee/ brackenbury be not thou displeased,  
My word is past, not one of them shall live,  
One go & see them forth with sent to death.  Exeunt. Enter Clarence, Gloster, and Shaw. Glost. 
I cannot see this prophesy you speak of,  
Should any way so much displease the King,  
And yet I promise you good Brother Clarence,  
'tis such a letter as concerns us both,  
That G. should put away King Edward's children,  
And sit upon his throne? that G. should? well.  Cla. 
God bless the king, & those two sweet young Princes.  Glo. 
Amen good brother Clarence:  Shaw. 
Amen.  Glo. 
And send them all to heaven shortly I beseech him.  Cla. 
The Kings much troubled in his sickness with it.  Glo. 
I promise you he is, and very much,  
But Doctor Shaw, who prophesied that G. should be so sadly  
ominous to us?  Shaw. 
My Lord of Glocester, I received the same  
From old Friar Anselm of S. Bartholomew's.  Glo. 
A great learned man he was, and as I have heard,  
Hath prophesied of very many things,  
I promise you it troubles me,  
I hope in me his prophesy is true.  aside. Cla. 
And so it does me, I tell you brother Glocester.  Glo. 
I am sure it does, for look you brother Clarence,  
We know not how his Highness will apply it,  
We are but two, yourself my Lord and I,  
Should the young Princes fail, which God defend.  Cla. 
Which God defend.  D. Shaw. 
Which God defend.  Glo. aside. 
But they should be cut off: Amen, Amen.  
You brother first, and should your issue fail,  
Poor I am next, the youngest of the three.  
But how far I am from a thought of that,  
Heaven witness with me, that I wish you dead.  aside. Cla. 
Brother I durst be sworn.  Glo. 
God bless you all, and take you to him if it be his will.  
Now brother, this prophesy of G. troubling the King,  
He may as well apply it unto Glocester,  
My dukedoms name, if he be jealous,  
As unto George your name, good brother Clarence,  
God help, God help: i'faith it troubles me,  
You would not think how: aside. that any of you live.  Cla. 
It cannot those: how innocent I am,  
And how unspotted are my loyal thoughts  
Unto his Highness, and those sweet young Princes,  
God be my record.  Glo. 
Who you, ay, I durst answer for you,  
That I shall cut you off ere it be long.  aside. 
But reverend Doctor, you can only tell,  
Being his highness Confessor, how he takes it.  aside to Shaw. 
Shaw, you know my mind, a villain like myself.  Shaw. 
My Lord of Clarence, I must tell your Lordship,  
His Highness is much troubled in his sickness  
With this same prophesy of G. Who is this G?  
Oft times he will demand, then will he sigh,  
And name his brother George, yourself my Lord,  
And then he strikes his breast, I promise you,  
This morning in th'extremest of his fit,  
He lay so still, we all thought he had slept,  
When suddenly, George is the G. quoth he,  
And gave a groan, and turned his face away.  Cla. 
God be my witness, witness with my soul,  
My just and upright thoughts to him and his,  
I stand so guiltless and so innocent,  
As I could wish my breast to be transparent,  
And my thoughts written in great letters there,  
The world might read the secrets of my soul.  Glo. 
Ah brother Clarence, when you are suspected,  
Well, well, it is a wicked world the while:  
But shall I tell you brother in plain terms,  
I fear, yourself and I have enemies,  
About the King, God pardon them,  
The world was never worser to be trusted:  
Ah brother George, where is that love that was?  
Ah it is banished brother from the world:  
Ah Conscience, Conscience, and true brotherhood,  
'tis gone, 'tis gone, brother I am your friend,  
I am your loving brother, your own self,  
And love you as my soul, use me in what you please,  
And you shall see I'll do a brother's part,  
Send you to heaven I hope, ere it be long,  aside. 
I am a true stamped villain as ever lived.  Cla. 
I know you will, than brother I beseech you,  
Plead you mine innocence unto the King,  
And in mean time to tell my loyalty,  
I'll keep within my house at Bainard's Castle,  
Until I hear how my dread Sovereign takes it.  Glo. 
Do so good brother.  Cla. 
Farewell good brother Gloster.  Glo. 
My tears will scarcely let me take my leave,  
I love you so: Farewell sweet George.  Exit Cla. 
So, is he gone: now Shaw 'tis in thy power,  
To bind me to thee everlastingly,  
And there is not one step that I shall rise,  
But I will draw thee with me unto greatness,  
Thou shalt sit in my bosom as my soul,  
Incense the king, now being as thou art,  
So near about him, and his Confessor,  
That this G. only is George Duke of Clarence,  
Doctor thou needst not my instruction,  
Thou hast a searching brain, a nimble spirit,  
Able to master any man's affections.  
Effect it Shaw, and bring it to pass once,  
I'll make thee the greatest Shaw that ever was.  Sha. 
My Lord, I am going by commandment,  
Unto the Marshalsea, to Captain Stranguidge,  
For Piracy of late condemned to die,  
There to confess him and his company,  
That done, I'll come with speed back to the king,  
And make no doubt but I'll effect the thing.  Glo. 
Farewell gentle Doctor.  Sha. 
Farewell my Lord of Gloster.  Exit. Glo. 
Let me awake my sleeping wits a while,  
Ha, the mark thou aim'st at Richard is a crown,  
And many stand betwixt thee and the same,  
What of all that? Doctor play thou thy part,  
I'll climb up by degrees, through many a heart.  Exit. Enter brackenbury with Vaux the Keeper. Bra. 
Why master Vaux is there no remedy?  
But instantly they must be led to death?  
Can it not be deferred till afternoon,  
Or but two hours, in hope to get reprieve?  K. 
Master Lieutenant, 'tis in vain to speak,  
The kings incensed, and will not pardon them,  
The men are patient, and resolved to die,  
The Captain and that other Gentleman,  
Have cast the dice whether shall suffer first.  Bra. 
How fell the Lot, to Stranguidge or to him?  Kee. 
The guiltless passenger must first go to't,  Bra. 
They are all guiltless from intent of ill.  Kee. 
And yet must die for doing of the deed,  
Besides the Duke of Exeter found dead,  
And naked floating up and down the sea,  
Twixt Calice and our coast, is laid to them,  
That they should rob, and cast him overboard.  Bra. 
My soul be pauwne, they never knew of it.  Kee. 
Well bring them forth.  Bra. 
Stay them yet but an hour.  Kee. 
I dare not do it sir Robert brackenbury,  
You are Lieutenant of the Tower yourself,  
And know the peril of protracting time,  
Moreover here's that pickthank Doctor Shaw,  
The Duke of Gloster's spaniel shriving them,  
Come bring them forth.  Bra. 
Poor Stranguidge must thou die?  Enter one bearing a silver Oar before Stranguidge, Shoare, and two or three more pinioned, and two or three with bills, and a hangman. Bra. stil. 
I dare not say good morrow, but ill day,  
That harry Stranguidge is thus cast away.  
Stran. Good cousin Brackenbury be as well content  
To see me die, as I to suffer death,  
Be witness that I die an honest man,  
Because my fact proves ill through ignorance,  
And for the Duke of Exeter his death,  
So speed my soul as I am innocent,  
Here goes my grief, this guiltless gentleman,  
Like Aesop's Stork, that dies for company,  
And came (God knows) but as a passenger.  
Ah master Hud, a thousand floods of woe  
o'erflow my soul, that thou must perish so.  Sho. 
Good Captain set no perturbation,  
Hinder our passage to a better world,  
This last breath's blast will waste our weary souls,  
Over death's gulf, to heavens most happy port,  
There is a little battle to be fought.  This while the hangman prepares, Shoare at this speech mounts up the ladder. 
Wherein by lot the leading must be mine,  
Second me Captain, and this bitter breakfast,  
Shall bring a sweeter supper with the Saints.  D. S. 
This Christian patience at the point of death,  
Doth argue he hath led no wicked life,  
however heaven hath laid this cross on him,  
Well Mathew Flood. for so thou call'st thyself,  
Finish a good course as thou hast begun,  
And clear thy conscience by confession,  
What know'st thou of the Duke of Exeter's death?  Sho. 
So God respect the waygate of my soul, as I know nothing.  Do. S. 
Then concerning this for which thou diest, knew Stranguidge of the league betwixt the Kings before he took that prize?  Sho. 
No in my conscience.  Do. S. 
Stranguidge what say you?  
You see there's but a turn betwixt your lives,  
You must be next, confess and save your soul,  
Concerning that wherein I questioned him:  
I am your ghostly father to absolve  
You of your sins, if you confess the truth.  Stran. 
True D. Shaw, and as I hope for heaven,  
In that great day when we shall all appear,  
I neither knew how that good Duke came dead,  
Nor of the league, till I had ta'en the prize.  
Neither was Flood, (that innocent dying man)  
Ever with me but as a passenger.  D. S. 
More happy he, well Flood forgive the world,  
As thou wilt have forgiveness from the heavens.  Sho. 
O so I do, and pray the world forgive,  
What wrong I did whilst I therein did live,  
And now I pray you turn your pains to them,  
And leave me private for a little space,  
To meditate upon my parting hence.  D. Sha. 
Do gentle Flood, and we will pray for thee.  Sho. 
Pray not for Flood, but pray for Mathew Shore,  
For Shore covered with the cloak of Flood,  aside. 
If I have sinned in changing of my name,  
Forgive me God, 'twas done to hide my shame,  
And I forgive the world, King Edward first,  
That wracked my state, by winning of my wife,  
And though he would not pardon trespass small,  
In these, in me God knows no fault at all,  
I pardon him, though guilty of my fall.  
Perhaps he would, if he had known 'twas I,  
But twenty deaths I rather wish to die,  
Than live beholding for one minute's breath  
To him, that living, wounded me with death.  
Death of my joy, and hell of my defame,  
Which now shall die under this borrowed name.  jane. 
God forgive thee, even as I forgive,  
And pray thou mayst repent while thou dost live,  
I am as glad to leave this loathed light,  
As to embrace thee on our marriage night.  
To die unknown thus, is my greatest good,  
That Mathew shores not hanged, but Mathew flood.  
For floods of woe have washed away the shore  
That never wife nor kin shall look on more:  
Now when ye will, I am prepared to go.  Enter jockey running and crying. Jockey. 
Hawd, hawd, say for speed, untie, untruss, pull down, pull off, God save the King: off with the helters, hence with the prisoners, a pardon a pardon.  Bra. 
Good news unlooked for, welcome gentle friend, who brings the pardon?  Jockey. 
Stay first lat ma blaw: my masters, master's Shore shoe brings tha pardon, than kings pardon: off with those bands, bestow them oh than hangman, may masters made me run the nearest way over tha fields, she raids apace the he way, she's at hand bay this: sirrah ye that preach, come down, let Doctor Shaw hea your place, he's than better scholar, master's Shore bring a new lesson for you.  Shoare. 
O I had read my latest lesson well.  
Had he been ready to have said, Amen.  point to the hangman. 
Now shall I live to see my shame again.  Shoare comes down. 
O had I died unwitting to my wife,  
Rather than see her, though she bring me life.  Enter jane in haste, in her riding cloak and safeguard, with a pardon in her hand. jane. 
Alas I see that even my smallest stay,  
Had lost my labour, and cast them away,  
God knows I basted all that ere I might,  
Here master Vaux, King Edward greets ye well,  
His gracious pardon frees this Gentleman,  
And all his company from shameful death.  All. 
God save the king, & God bless mistress Shore.  Ioc. 
Amen, & keep these frea coming here any mar.  jane. 
You must discharge them paying of their fees,  
Which for I fear their store is very small,  
I will defray, hold, here, take purse and all,  
Nay master Vaux 'tis gold, if not enough,  
Send to me, I will pay you royally.  Stran. 
Lady, in the behalf of all the rest,  
With humble thanks I yield myself your slave,  
Command their service, and command my life.  Ia. 
No Captain Stranguidge, let the king command  
Your lives and service, who hath given you life,  
These and such offices conscience bids me do.  D. Sh. 
Pity that ere awry she trod her shoe.  Sh. 
O had that conscience pricked when love provoked.  Bra. 
Lady the last but not the least in debt,  
To your devotion for my Cousin's life,  
I render thanks, yet thanks is but a breath,  
Command (madam) during life,  
Old brackenbury bows for you to stand,  
Whilst I have limbs or any foot of land.  Sho. 
Thus is her glory builded on the sand.  jane. 
Thanks good M. Lieutenant of the Tower.  
Sirrah prepare my horse, why stay you here?  to jockey 
Pray ye commend me to my noble friend  
The Duke of Clarence now your prisoner,  
Bid him not doubt the king's displeasures past  
I hope to gain him favour and release.  Br. 
God grant ye may, he's a noble Gentleman.  D. Sh. 
My patron Gloster will cross it if he can.  Enter a Messenger. Nuntio. 
Where's mistress Shore? Lady I come in post,  
The King hath had a very dangerous fit  
Since you came from him, twice his majesty,  
Hath swooned, and with much ado revived,  
And still as breath will give him leave to speak,  
He calls for you: the Queen and all the Lords  
Have sent to seek ye, haste unto his Grace,  
Or else I fear you'll never see his face.  Ia. 
O God descend, good friends pray for the king,  
More bitter are the news which he doth bring,  
Than those were sweet I brought to you but late:  
If Edward die, confounded is my state,  
I'll haste unto him and will spend my blood,  
To save his life or do him any good.  Exeunt she and the Messenger. Sh. 
And so would I for thee hadst thou been true:  
But if I die, hid all thy pomp adieu.  Bra. 
Bra. believe but I do not like these news,  
Of the Kings dangerous sickness.  Keeper. 
No nor I,  
Captain, and master Fludde, and all the rest,  
I do rejoice your pardon was obtained,  
Before these news, these inauspicious news,  
If the king die, the state will soon be changed,  M. 
Lieutenant, you'll go to the Tower:  
I'll take my lean, gallants God buoy all.  Exeunt Vaux and his train. St. 
God buoy M. Vaux, I was ye ha' lost good guests.  Bra. 
You shall be my guest for a night or two,  
cousin, till your own lodging be prepared,  
But tell me sir what means hath M. Fludde.  Stran. 
I cannot tell, i'll ask him if ye will.  Bra. 
Do so, and if his fortunes be debased,  
I'll entertain him if he'll dwell with me,  
On good condition.  Stran. M. 
Mathew Flood,  
He are ye my cousin Brackenbury's mind?  
He hath conceived such liking of your parts,  
That if your means surmount not his suppose,  
he'll entertain ye gladly at the Tower,  
To wait on him, and put ye in great trust.  Sho. 
In what I undertake I will be just,  
And hold me happy, if my diligence  
May please so worthy a Gentleman as he,  
whate'er my fortunes have been, they are now,  
Such as to service make their master bow.  Bra. 
No Flood more like a friend & fellow mate,  
I mean to use thee, than a servitor,  
And place thee in some credit in the Tower,  
And give thee means to live in some good sort.  Sh. 
I thank ye sir, God grant I may deserve it.  Bra. 
cousin and all your crew come home with me,  
Where after sorrow we may merry be.  Sho. 
The Tower will be a place of secret rest,  
Where I may hear good news & bad, and use the best,  
God bless the king, a worse may wear the crown  
And then jane Shore thy credit will come down,  
For though i'll never bed nor board with thee,  
Yet thy destruction with I not to see,  
Because I loved thee when thou wast my wife,  
Not for now saving my disdained life,  
Which lasts too long. God grant us both to mend,  
Well I must in my service to attend.  Exit. The Lord Lovell and Doctor Shaw meet on the stage. Sha. 
Well met my good Lord Lovell.  Lo. 
Whither away so fast goes Doctor Shaw?  Sha. 
Why to the Tower, to shrive the Duke of Clarence,  
Who as I hear is fallen so grievous sick,  
As it is thought be can by no means scape.  Lo. 
He neither can nor shall I warrant thee:  Sh. 
I hope my Lord he is not dead already?  Lo. 
But I hope sir he is, I am sure I saw him dead,  
Of a Fly's death, drowned in a butt of malmsey.  Sha. 
Drowned in a butt of malmsey? that is strange,  
Doubtless he never would misdo himself?  Lo. 
No, that thou knowest right well, he had some helpers,  
Thy hand was in it with the Duke of Gloster's,  
As smoothly as thou seekst to cover it.  Sha. 
Oh foul words my Lord, no more of that,  
The world knows nothing, then what should I fear?  
Doth not your honour seek promotion?  
Oh give the Doctor then a little leave,  
So that he gain preferment with a King,  
Cares not who goes to wrack, whose heart doth wring.  Lo. 
A King? what King?  Sh. 
why Richard man? who else? good Lord I see,  
Wise men sometimes have weak capacity.  Lo. 
Why is not Edward living? and if he were not,  
Hath be not children? what shall become of them?  Sh. 
Why man, lining for beds, a knife, or so,  
What make a boy a King, and a man by,  
Richard, a man for us? fie that were a shame.  
Nay then I see if Edward were deceased,  
Which way the game would go.  Sha. 
What else my Lord?  
That way the current of our fortune runs,  
By noble Richard gallant royal Richard,  
He is the man must only do us good,  
So I have honour, let me swim through blood.  
My Lord, be but at Paul's cross on Sunday next,  
I hope I have it here shall soundly prove,  
King Edward's children not legitimate.  
Nay, and that for Edward ruling now,  
And George the Duke of Clarence so late dead:  
Their mother happed to tread the shoe awry,  
Why what is Richard then?  Sha. 
Tut, lawful man, he says it so himself.  
And what he says i'll be so hold to swear,  
Though in my soul I know it otherwise,  
Beware promotion while you live my Lord.  Enter catesby. Ca. 
A staff, a staff, a thousand crowns for a staff.  Lo. 
What staff sir William catesby?  Ca. 
Why man a white staff for my lord Protector.  Lo. 
Why is King Edward dead?  Ca. 
Dead Lovel, dead, and Richard our good Lord  
Is made Protector of the sweet young Prince.  
Oh for a staff, where might I have a staff,  
That I might first present it to his hand?  Sh. 
Now do I smell two Bishoprics at least,  
My sermon shall be peppered sound for this.  Enter mistress Shoare weeping, jockey following. Ca. 
Why how now mistress Shore? what, put finger in the ease,  
Nay then I see you have some cause to cry.  Lo. 
I blame her not, her chiefest stay is gene,  
The only staff, she had to lean upon,  
I see by her these tidings are too true.  Ia. 
I my Lord Lovell, they are too true indeed,  
Royal King Edward now hath breathed his last,  
The Queen turned out, and every friend put by,  
None now admitted, but whom Richard please.  Lo. 
Why doubtless Richard will be kind to you.  jane. 
Ah my Lord Lovell, God bless me from his kindness:  
No sooner was the white staff in his hand,  
But finding me and the right woeful Queen,  
Sadly bemoaning such a mighty loss:  
Here is no place quoth he, you must be gone,  
We have other matters now to think upon.  
For you, (quoth he to me) ant bit his lip,  
And stroke me with his staff, but said no more.  
Whereby I know he meaneth me no good.  Cat. 
Well mistress Shore, it's like to be a busy time,  
Shift for yourself, come lads let us be gone,  
Royal King Richard must be wait upon.  Sh. 
Well mistress Shore, if you have need of me,  
You shall command me to the uttermost.  Exeunt. Ia. 
First let me die ere I do put my trust,  
In any fliering Spaniel of you all.  
Go jockey, take down all my hangings,  
And quickly see my trunks be conveyed forth,  
To mistress Blages, an Inn in Lombardstreet,  
The Flower de Luce, good jockey make some speed,  
She, she must be my refuge in this need.  
See it done quickly jockey.  Exit. Jockey. 
Whickly quoth 'a? marry here's a whick change indeed, sick whick change did I near see before. Now dream I, that i'll be a very pure fellow, and hardly ha any siller to drink with a good fellow. But what stand I tattling here. I must go do my masters bidding, carry all her stuff and gear to mistress Blages, at the Flower de luce in Lombardstreet, whick then dispatch.  Exit. Enter brackenbury, and Flood, to them the two young princes, Edward and Richard, Gloster, Cates. Lovell and Tirill. Bra. 
Come hither Flood let me hear thy opinion,  
Thou knowest I build upon thy confidence,  
And honest dealing in thy greatest affairs:  
I have received letters from the Duke,  
Gloster I mean, Protector of the land,  
Who gives in charge the Tower be prepared,  
This night to entertain the two young princes,  
It is my duty to obey I know,  
But manifold suspicion troubles me.  Flo. 
He is their uncle Sir, and in that sense,  
Nature should warrant their security,  
Next his deceased brother at his death,  
To Richard's care committed both the realm,  
And their protection: where humanity  
Stands as an Orator to plead against  
All wrong suggestion of uncivil thoughts:  
Beside you are Lieutenant of the Tower,  
Say there should be any hurt pretended,  
The privilege of your authority  
Pries into every corner of this house,  
And what can then be done without your knowledge?  Br. 
Thou sayest true Flood, though Richard be Protector,  
When once they are within the Tower limits,  
The charge of them (unless he derogate)  
From this my office, which was never siene,  
In any king's time; doth belong to me:  
And ere that brackenbury will consent,  
Or suffer wrong be done unto these babes,  
His sword, & all the strength within the Tower  
Shall be opposed against the proudest comer,  
Be it to my soul as I intend to them.  Fl. 
And faith in me unto this commonwealth,  
And truth to men hath hitherto been seen,  
The Pilot that hath guided my lives course,  
Though 'twas my fortune to be wronged in both:  
And therefore Sir neither the mighties frown,  
Nor any bribes shall win me otherwise.  Bra. 
'tis well resolved: still methinks they should  
Be safe enough with us, and yet I fear,  
But now no more, it seems they are at hand.  Pr. Ed. 
Uncle, what Gentleman is that?  Enter. Glost. 
It is (sweet Prince) Lieutenant of the Tower.  Pr. Ed. 
Sir we are come to be your guests tonight:  
I pray you tell me did you ever know,  
Our father Edward lodged within this place,  Bra. 
Never to lodge (my liege) but oftentimes,  
On other occasions I have seen him here.  Ri. 
Brother last night when you did send for me  
My mother told me, hearing we should lodge  
Within the Tower, that it was a prison,  
And therefore marvelled that my uncle Gloster,  
Of all the houses for a king's receipt,  
Within this City, had appointed none,  
Where you might keep your court but only here.  Gl. 
Vile brats, how they do descant on the Tower.  
My gentle Nephew they were ill abused,  
To tutor you with such unfitting terms,  
(Who ere they were) against this royal mansion:  
What if some part of it hath been reserved,  
To be a prison for Nobility?  
Follows it therefore that it cannot serve,  
To any other use? Cesar himself  
That built the same, within it kept his Court,  
And many kings since him, the rooms are large,  
The building stately, and for strength beside,  
It is the safest and the surest hold you have.  Pr. Ed. 
Uncle of Gloster, if you think it so,  
'tis not for me to contradict your will,  
We must allow it, and are well content.  Glo. 
On then a God's name.  Pr. Ed. 
Yet before we go,  
One question more with you M. Lieutenant,  
We like you well, and but we do perceive,  
More comfort in your looks, then in these walls,  
For all our uncle Gloster's friendly speech,  
Our hearts would be as heavy still as lead,  
I pray you tell me, at which door or gate  
Was it my uncle Clarence did go in,  
When he was sent a prisoner to this place?  Bra. 
At this my liege: why sighs your majesty?  Pr. Ed. 
He went in here that near came back again,  
But as God hath decreed, so let it be,  
Come brother shall we go?  Fish. 
Yes brother, anywhere with you.  Exeunt. Tirill pulls catesby by the sleeve. Tir. 
Sir were it best I did attend the Duke,  
Or stay his leisure till his back return?  Cat. 
I pray master Tirill stay without,  
It is not good you should be seen by day  
Within the Tower, especially at this time,  
I'll tell his honour of your being here,  
And you shall know his pleasure presently.  Tir. 
even so sir men: would be glad by any means.  
To raise themselves, that have been overthrown,  
By fortune's scorn, and I am one of them.  Enter Duke of Glocester. 
Here comes the Duke.  Glo. 
catesby, is this the man?  Cat. 
It is if't like your excellency.  Glo. 
Come near.  
Thy name I hear is Tirill, is it not?  Tir. 
james Tirill is my name, my gracious Lord.  Glo. 
Welcome, it should appear that thou hast been  
In better state than now it seems thou art.  Tir. 
I have been by my faith my Lord, though now depressed,  
And clouded over with adversity.  Glo. 
Be ruled by me, & then thou shalt rise again,  
And prove more happy than thou ever wast,  
There is but only two degrees by which  
It shall be needful for thee to ascend,  
And that is faith and taciturnity.  Tir. 
If ever I prove false unto your grace,  
Convert your favour to afflictions.  Glo. 
But canst thou too be secret?  Tiril. 
Try me my Lord:  
This tongue was never known to be a blab.  Glo. 
Thy countenance hath like a silver key,  
Opened the closet of my heart, read there,  
If scholar like thou canst expound those lines,  
Thou art the man ordained to serve my turn.  Tir. 
So far as my capacity will reach,  
The sense my Lord is this, this night you say,  
The two young Princes both must suffer death.  Gl. 
Thou hast my meaning, wilt thou do it, speak?  Tiril. 
It shall be done.  Glo. 
Enough, come follow me,  
For thy direction, and for gold to fee,  
Such as must aid thee in their Tragedy.  Enter mistress Blage and jockey laden. Bla. 
Welcome good jockey, what good news bring you?  Jockey 
Marry masters my good masters greets ye masters, and prays ye masters till dight up her Chamber, for she'll lig we ye tonight masters. And here's her cat skin till she come.  Enter jane. jane. 
Why how now loiterer? make ye no more haste?  
When will my trunks and all my stuff be brought,  
If you thus loiter, go, make haste withal.  Jockey. 
marry sall aye, gin ye'll be bud patient a while.  Exit. jane. 
Now gentle mistress Blage the only friend,  
That fortune leaves me to rely upon,  
My counsel's Closet and my Tower of strength,  
To whom for safety I retire myself,  
To be secure in these tempestuous times,  
O smile on me, and give me gentle looks,  
If I be welcome, then with cheerful heart,  
And willing hand show me true signs thereof.  Bla. 
Doubt ye of welcome Lady to your friend?  
Nay to your servant, to your beadswoman,  
To speak but truth, your bounty's bond woman:  
Use me, command me, call my house your own,  
And all I have sweet Lady at your will.  jane. 
A way with titles, lay by courtly terms,  
The Case is altered now the King is dead,  
And with his life my favouring friends are fled,  
No Madam now, but as I was before,  
Your faithful kind companion, poor jane Shore.  Bla. 
I loud you then, and since, and ever shall,  
You are the woman, though your fortunes fall,  
You when my husband's lewd transgression  
Of all our wealth had lost possession,  
By forfeiture into his highness hands,  
Got restitution of our goods and lands,  
He fled, and died in France, to heal that harm,  
You helped me to three manors in fee farm,  
The worst of which clears threescore pound a year,  
Have I not reason then to hold ye dear?  
Yes hap what will until my life do end,  
You are and shall be my best beloved friend,  jane. 
How if misfortune my folly do succeed.  Bla. 
Trust me true friends bide touch in time of need.  jane. 
If want consume the wealth I had before.  Bla. 
My wealth is yours, and you shall spend my store.  jane. 
But the Protector prosecutes his hate.  Bla. 
With me live secret from the world's debates  jane. 
You will be weary of so bad a guest.  Bla. 
Then let me never on the earth be blessed.  jane. 
Ah mistress Blage, you tender me such love,  
As all my sorrows from my soul remove,  
And though my portion be not very large,  
Yet come I not to you to be a charge,  
Coin, plate, and fuels prized at lowest rate,  
I bring with me to maintain my estate,  
Worth twenty thousand pound, and my array,  
If you survive to see my dying day,  
From you no penny will I give away.  Blage. 
And I thank you that so my wealth increased,  
Am worth I trow, ten thousand pounds at least,  
I think like two warm widows we may live,  
Until good fortune two good husbands give,  
For surely mistress Shore your husband's dead,  
When heard ye of him?  jane. 
Never since he fled.  
O mistress Blage, now put you in my head  
That kills my heart, why should I breathe this air,  
Whose lost good name no treasure can repair?  
Oh were he here with me to lead his life,  
Although he never used me as a wife,  
But as a drudge to spurn me with his feet,  
Yet should I think with him that life were sweet,  Bla. 
How can ye once conceit so base a thing,  
That have been kissed and cokerd by a king,  
Weep not, you hurt yourself by Gods blessed mother,  
Your husband's dead woman, think upon another,  
Let us in to supper, drink wine, cheer your heart,  
And whilst I live, be sure i'll take your part.  Exit. Enter Brakenburie, Shoare, Dighton, Forrest, Tirill. Tir. 
Sir I assure ou 'tis my Lord Protectors warrant.  Bra. 
My friend, I have conferred it with his letters,  
And 'tis his hand indeed, i'll not deny,  
But blame me not although I be precise,  
In matters that so nearly do concern me.  Digh. 
My Lord Protector, sir I make no doubt,  
Dare justify his warrant, though perhaps,  
He doth not now acquaint you why he doth it.  Bra. 
I think sic there's no subject now in England,  
Will urge his Grace, to show what he dare do,  
Nor will I ask him why he does it,  
I would I might, to rid me of my doubt.  aside. For. 
Why sir I think he needs no precedent,  
For what he does, I think his power is absolute enough.  Bra. 
I have no power sir to examine it.  
Nor will I do: obey your warrant,  
Which I will keep for my security.  Tir. 
You shall do well in that sir.  Bra. 
Here's the keys.  Sho. 
And yet I could wish my Lord Protector,  
Had sent his warrant thither by some other, aside.  
I do not like their looks I tell you true.  Bra. 
Nor I Flood I assure thee.  For. 
What does that slave mutter to his master?  Digh. 
I hear him say he does not like our looks?  Tir. 
Why not our looks sir?  For. 
Sirrah we hear you.  Sho. 
I am glad you do sir? all is one for that,  
But if you did not hearken better now,  
I never saw three faces in whose looks,  
Did ever sit more terror: or more death,  
God bless the Princes if it be his will,  
I do not like these villains.  Digh. 
Zounds stab the villain, sirrah do you brave us?  Sh. 
I that's your coming, for you come to stab.  Forrest. 
Stab him.  Shoare. 
Nay then i'll stab with thee.  Tirill. 
'zblood cut his throat.  Braken. 
Hold Gentle men I pray you.  Shoare. 
Sir I am hurt, stabbed in the arm,  Braken. 
This is not to be justified my friends, I  
To draw your weapons here within the Tower,  
And by the law it is no less than death,  
I cannot think the Duke will like of this,  
I pray ye be content, too much is done.  Tir. 
He might have held his peace then, and been quiet Farewell, farewell.  Shoare. 
Hell and damnation follow murderers.  Bra. 
Go Flood get thee some surgeon to look to thy wound.  
Hast no acquaintance with some skilful surgeon?  
Keep thy wound close, and let it not take air.  
And for my own part, I will not stay here.  
Whither wilt thou go that I may send to thee.  Sho. 
To one mistress Blages, an Inn in Gracious street,  
There you shall find me, or shall hear of me.  Bra. 
Sweet Princely babes, farewell I fear you sore,  
I doubt these eyes shall never see you more.  Enter the two young Princes, Edward and Richard in their gowns and caps unbuttoned, and untrust. Richard. 
How does your Lordship?  Edward. 
Well good brother Richard, how does yourselves  
You told me your head-ached.  Richard. 
Indeed it does, my Lord feel with your hands how hot it is.  He lays his hand on his brother's head. Edward. 
Indeed you have caught cold,  
With sitting yesternight to hear me read,  
I pray thee go to bed, sweet Dick, poor little heart.  Richard. 
You'll give me leave to wait upon your Lordship.  Edward. 
I had more need brother to wait on you:  
For you are sick, and so am not I.  Richard. 
O Lord, methinks this going to our bed,  
How like it is to going to our grave:  Edward. 
I pray thee do not speak of graves sweet heart,  
Indeed thou frightest me.  Ri. 
Why my Lord Brother, did not our Tutor teach us,  
That when at night we want unto our bed,  
We still should think we sent unto our grave.  Ed. 
Yes that's true, that we should do as every christian ought.  
To be prepared to die at every hour, but I am heavy.  Richard. 
Indeed and so am I.  Edward. 
Then let us say our prayers and go to bed.  They kneel, and solemn music the while within, the music ceaseth, and they rise. Richard. 
What, bleeds your Grace?  Edward. 
I two drops and no more.  Richard. 
God bless us both, and I desire no more,  Edward. 
Brother see here what David says, and so say I  
Lord in thee will I trust although I die.  As the young Princes go out, enter Tirill. Tirill. 
Go lay ye down, but never more to rise,  
I have put my hand into the foulest murder,  
That ever was committed since the world,  
The very senseless stones here in the walls,  
Break out in tears but to behold the fact,  
methinks the bodies lying dead in graves,  
Should rise and cry against us O hark, hark,  A noise within. 
The Mandrake's shrieks are music to their cries,  
The very night is frighted, and the stars,  
Do drop like torches, to behold this deed:  
The very Centre of the earth doth shake,  
methinks the Tower should rent down from the top,  
To let the heaven look on this monstrous deed.  Enter at the one door Dighton, with Edward under his arm, at the other door, Forrest with Richard. Digh. 
Stand further damned rogue, and come not near me.  Fo. 
Nay stand thou further villain, stand aside.  Digh. 
Are we not both damned for this cursed deed?  Fo. 
Thou art the witness that thou bear'st the King  Digh. 
And what hearst thou?  Fo. 
It is too true, oh I am damned indeed,  He looks down on the boy under his arm. Ti. 
I am as deep as you, although my hand  
Did not the deed.  Digh. 
O villain, art thou there?  Fo. 
A plague light on thee.  Ti. 
Curse not, a thousand plagues will light upon us all.  They lay them down. 
The priest here in the Tower will bury them,  
Let us away.  Enter mistress Blage & her two men, bringing in Shoare alias Flood, in a chair, his arm bleeding apace Bla. 
So, set him here a while, where is more air,  
How cheer you sir, alack he doth begin  
To change his colour, where is mistress Shore?  
Gone to her Closet for a precious Balm,  
The same (she said) King Edward used himself.  
Alack I fear he'll die before she come.  
Ran quickly for some Rosa-solis, faint not sir,  
Be of good comfort, come good mistress Shore,  
What have you there?  jane. 
Stand by and give me leave.  Bla. 
Unhappy me to lodge him in my house.  jane. 
I warrant you woman, be not so afraid,  
If not this bloodstone hanged about his neck,  
This balm will staunch it by the help of God:  
Lift up his arm whilst I do bathe his wound,  
The sign belike was here when he was hurt,  
Or else some principal and chief vein is pierced.  Bla. 
however sure the surgeon was a knave,  
That looked no better to him at the first.  Ia. 
Blame him not mistress Blage, the best of them  
In such a case as this, may be to seek.  Bla. 
Now God be blessed, see the crimson blood,  
That was precipitate, and falling down  
Into his arm, retires into his face,  
How fare you sir? how do you feel yourself?  Sh. 
Oh wherefore have you waked me from my sleep?  
And broke the quiet slumber I was in,  
methought I sat in such a pleasant place,  
So full of all delight as never eye  
Beheld, nor heart of man could comprehend,  
If you had let me go I felt no pain,  
But being now revoked my grief renews.  jane. 
Give him some Rosa-solis mistress Blage,  
And that will like wise animate the sprites,  
And send alacrity unto the heart,  
That hath been struggling with the pangs of death.  Bla. 
Here sir drink this, you need not fear it sir,  
It is no hurt, see I will be your taster,  
Then drink I pray you.  Ia. 
Now fellows raise his body from the chair  
And gently let him walk a turn or two.  Bla. 
Good sooth mistress Shore, I did not think till now  
You had been such a cunning skilled Physician.  Sho. 
Oh mistress Blage, though I must needs confess,  
It would have been more welcome to my soul,  
If I had died and been removed at last,  
From the confused troubles of this world,  
Whereof I have sustained no mean weight,  
Than lingering here be made a packhorse still  
Of torments, in comparison of which  
Death is but as the pricking of a thorn,  
Yet I do thank you for your taken pains,  
And would to God I could requite your love.  Bla. 
Sir I did you little good, what was done  
Ascribe the benefit and praise thereof  
Unto this Gentlewoman, kind mistress Shore,  
Who next to God preserved your feeble life.  Sho. 
How? Mistress Shore, good friends let go your hold,  
My strength is now sufficient of itself.  
Oh is it she that still prolongs my woes?  
Was it ordained not only at the first,  
She should be my destruction, but now twice,  
When gracious destinies had brought about,  
To end this weary pilgrimage of mine,  
Must she and none but she prevent that good,  
And stop my entrance to eternal bliss?  
Oh lasting plague, oh endless corrosive,  
It now repents me double that I scaped,  
Since life's made death, and life's author hate.  Ia. 
Sir take my counsel and sit down again,  
It is not good to be so bold of foot,  
Upon the sudden till you have more strength.  Sho. 
Mistress I thank you, and I care not much  
If I be ruled by you.  sits down. 
Oh God that she should pity me unknown,  
That knowing me by her was overthrown,  
Or ignorantly she should regard this smart,  
That heretofore spared not to stab my heart.  Enter brackenbury. Bra. 
By your leave mistress Blague, I am somewhat bold,  
Is there not a Gentleman within your house,  
Called M. Flood, came hither hurt last night?  Bla. 
Is his name Flood, I knew it not till now,  
But here he is, and well recovered,  
Thanks to this Gentlewoman mistress Shore.  Bra. 
Pardon me mistress Shore, I saw you not,  
And trust me I am sorry at the heart,  
So good a creature as yourself hath been,  
Should be so vilely dealt with as you are,  
I promise you the world laments your case.  Ia. 
How means you sir? I understand you not?  
Lament my case, for what? for Edward's death?  
I know that I have lost a gracious friend,  
But that is not to be remedied now.  Bra. 
No mistress Shore, it is for Richard's hate,  
That too much envies your prosperity.  Ia. 
I know he loves me not and for that cause,  
I have withdrawn me wholly from the court.  Bra. 
You have not seen the Proclamation then?  Ia. 
The proclamation? no, what proclamation?  Bra 
Oh mistress Shore, the king in every street  
Of London, and in every borough town,  
Throughout this land hath publicly proclaimed,  
On pain of death that none shall harbour you,  
Or give you food or clothes to keep you warm,  
But having first done shameful penance here,  
You shall be then thrust forth the City gates,  
Into the naked cold forsaken field,  
I fable not, I would to God I did,  
See, here's the manner of it put in print,  
'tis to be sold in every stationer's shop,  
Besides a number of them clapped on posts.  
Where people crowding as they read your fall,  
Some murmur, and some sigh, but most of them,  
Have their relenting eyes even big with tears.  Ia. 
God's will be done, I know my sin is great,  
And he that is omnipotent and just,  
Cannot but must reward me heavily.  Bra. 
It grieves me mistress Shore, it was my chance,  
To be the first reporter of this news.  Ia. 
Let it not grieve, I must have heard of it,  
And now as good, as at another time.  Bra. 
I pray ye mistress Blage have care of Flood,  
And what his charge is I will see you paid,  Exit. Ia. 
Farewell to all that still shall be my song,  
Let men impose upon me near such wrong,  
And this extremity shall seem the less,  
In that I have a friend to lean unto,  
Sweet mistress Blage, there were upon the earth,  
No comfort left for miserable jane,  
But that I do presume upon your love,  
I know though tyrant Richard had set down,  
A greater penalty than is proclaimed,  
Which cannot well be thought, yet in your house,  
I should have succour and relief beside.  Bla 
What, and so I should be a traitor, should I?  
Is that the care you have of me and mine?  
I thank you truly, no there's no such matter,  
I love you well, but love myself better:  
As long as you were held a true subject,  
I made account of you accordingly,  
But being otherwise, I do reject you,  
And will not cherish my king's enemy:  
You know the danger of the Proclamation:  
I would to God you would depart my house.  Ia. 
When was it ever e'en jane Shore was false  
Either unto her country, or her king?  
And therefore 'tis not well good mistress Blage,  
That you upbraid me with a traitor's name.  Bla. 
ay, but you have been a wicked liver,  
And now you see what 'tis to be unchaste,  
You should have kept you with your honest husband:  
'twas never other like but that such filthiness,  
Would have a foul and detestable end.  Ia. 
Time was that you did tell me otherwise,  
And studied how to set a gloss on that  
Which now you say is ugly and deformed.  Bla. 
I told you then as then the time did serve,  
And more indeed to try your disposition,  
Than any way to encourage you to sin:  
But when I say you were ambitious,  
And saintly stood on terms of modesty,  
I left you to your own arbitrement:  
Can you deny it was not so? how say you?  Ia. 
We will not mistress Blage dispute of that,  
But now in charity and womanhood,  
Let me find favour if it be but this,  
That in some barn or stable I may shroud.  
Till otherwise I be provided for.  Bla. 
I pray you do not urge me mistress Shore.  
I will not have my house endangered so.  Ia. 
Oh you did promise I should never want,  
And that your house was mine, & swore the same,  
To keep your oath be then compassionate.  Bla, 
So you did swear you would be true to Shore,  
But you were not so good as your word,  
My oaths disherit which by the king's command.  jane. 
Yet let me have those jewels and that money,  
Which is within my trunks.  Bla. 
I know of none:  
If there be any, i'll be so bold,  
As keep it for your diet and your man's,  
It is no little charge I have been at,  
To feed your dainty tooth, since you came hither,  
Beside houseroom, I am sure is somewhat worth.  Sho. 
Ah jane I cannot choose but pity thee,  
Here's the first step to thy deep misery.  Ia. 
Oh that my grave had then been made my house,  
When either first I went unto the Court,  
Or from the court returned unto this place.  Enter two Apparators. Ser. 
How now, what are you? it had been manners  
You should have knocked before you had come in.  1. Ap. 
We are the bishop's Parators my friend,  
And mistress Shore our errand is to you.  
This day it is commanded by the King,  
You must be stripped out of your rich attire,  
And in a white sheet go from Temple bar,  
Until you come to Algate, bore footed,  
Your hair about your ears, and in your hand,  
A burning taper, therefore go with us.  jane. 
even when and whither you will, and would to God,  
The King as soon could rid my soul of sin,  
As he may stripped my body of these rags.  2. Ap. 
That would be soon enough, but come away,  
And mistress Blage you'll hardly answer it,  
When it is known we found her in your house.  1. Ap. 
It seems you do not fear to harbour her.  Bla. 
I harbour her? out on her strumpet quean,  
She priest upon me where I would or no:  
I'll see her hanged ere I will harbour her.  
So now her jewels and her gold is mine,  
And I am made at least four thousand pound,  
Wealthier by this match than I was before:  
And what can be objected for the same,  
That once I loved her: well perhaps I did,  
And women all are governed by the Moon,  
But now I am of another humour,  
Which is you know a planet that will change.  Cat. 
Now M. Sheriff of London do your office,  
Attach this rebel to his Majesty,  
And having stripped her to her petticoat,  
Turn her out a doors, with this condition,  
That no man harbour her, that durst presume  
To harbour that lewd courtesan shores wife,  
Against the straight commandment of the King.  Bla. 
I beseech you sir.  Cat. 
Away with her I say.  
The while I'll seize upon her house & goods,  
Which wholly are confiscate to the King.  Exit. Sho. 
Oh what have I beheld, were I as young,  
As when I came to London to be prentice,  
This pageant were sufficient to instruct,  
And teach me ever after to be wise.  
First have I seen desert of wantonness,  
And breach of wedlock: then of flattery,  
Next of dissembling love, and last of all,  
The ruin of base catching avarice:  
But poor jane Shore in that I loved thee once,  
And was thy husband I must pity, thee,  
The sparks of old affection long ago,  
Raked up in ashes of displeasure kindle,  
And in this furnace of adversity,  
The world shall see a husband's loyalty.  Exit. Enter Doctor Shaw pensively reading on his book, after him follows the Ghost of friar Anselm, with a lighted torch. Sha. 
Spuria vitulamina non agent radices altas.  
Bastardly slips have always slender growth.  
Ah Shaw, this was the cursed theme,  
That at Paul's cross thou madest thy sermon of,  
To prove the lawful issue of thy King,  
Got out of wedlock, illegitimate.  
Ah Duke of Gloster this didst thou procure.  
Did Richard (villain) no it was thy fault,  
Thou wouldst be won to such a damned deed,  
Which now to think on makes my soul to bleed.  
Ah Friar Anselm, sleep among the blessed,  
Thy prophesy thus falsely did I wrest.  Enter Anselm. An. 
Thou didst, and be thou damned therefore,  
near come thy soul where blessedness abides,  
Didst thou not know the letter G. was Gloster?  Sh. 
Anselm I did.  An. 
Why then didst thou affirm,  
That it was meant by George the duke of Clarence  
That honourable harmless Gentleman,  
Whose thoughts all innocent as any child,  
Yet came through thee to such a luckless death.  Sa. 
I was enforced by the Duke of Gloster.  An. 
enforced sayst thou? wouldst thou then be enforced,  
Being a man of thy profession,  
To sin so vilely, and with thine own mouth,  
To damn thy soul? No thou wast not enforced,  
But gain and hope of high promotion  
hired thee thereto, say was it so or no?  Sha. 
It did, it did.  An. 
Why then record in thy black hellish thoughts,  
How many mischiefs have ensued hereon?  
First wronged Clarence drowned in the Tower,  
Next, Edward's children murdered in the Tower:  
This day at Pomfret noble Gentlemen,  
three the queens kindred, lose their harmless heads.  
Thinkst thou that here this flood of mischief stays  
No villain, many are marked to the block,  
And they the nearest, think them furthest off,  
Even Buckingham, creator of that king,  
Shall he to woe and wretched ending bring.  
All this (accursed man) hath come by thee,  
And thy false wresting of my prophecy,  
For England's good disclosed to thy trust,  
And so it had been, hadst thou proved just.  
But thou and every one that had a hand,  
In that most woeful murder of the Princes,  
To fatal ends you are appointed all.  
Here in thy study shalt thou starve thyself,  
And from this hour not taste one bit of food,  
The rest shall after follow on a row,  
To all their deaths, vengeance will not be slow.  Enter a Messenger to Shaw. Mes. 
Where is M. Doctor Shaw?  Sha. 
Here friend, what is thy will with me?  Mes. 
K. Richard prays ye to come to him straight.  
For he would be confessed.  Sha. 
I cannot come, I pray thee take that friar,  
For he can do it better far than I.  Mes. 
A Friar M. Doctor I see none.  Sha. 
Dost thou not? no, thy untainted soul  
Cannot discern the horrors that I do.  An. 
Shaw go with him, & tell that tyrant Richard,  
He hath but three years limited for life,  
And then a shameful death takes hold on him,  
That done, return, and in thy study end  
Thy loathed life that didst us all offend,  Sha. 
With all my heart, would it were ended now,  
So it were done, I care not where nor how.  Exeunt. Enter the two Parators, with mistress Shoare in a white sheet, barefooted, with her hair about her ears, and in her hand a wax taper. 1. Par. 
Now mistress Shore, here our commission ends,  
Put off your robe of shame, for this is Algate,  
Whither it was appointed we should bring you,  Ia. 
My robe of shame? Oh that so soul a name  
Should be applied unto so fair a garment,  
Which is no more to be condemned of shame,  
Than snow of putrefaction is deserved,  
To cover an infectious heap of dung,  
My robe of shame, but not my shame put off,  
For that sits branded on my forehead still,  
And therefore in derision was I wrapped,  
In this white Sheet: and in derision bore  
This burning taper, to express my folly,  
That having light of reason to direct me,  
Delighted yet in by-ways of dark error.  2. P. 
Well mistress Shore, I hope you grudge not us,  
We showed you all the favour poor men could.  jane. 
Oh God forbid: I know the Kings Edict  
Set you a work, and not your own desires.  1. Par. 
I truly mistress, and for our parts,  
We could be well content 'twere otherwise,  
But that the laws severe, and so we leave you.  Exit. jane. 
Farewell unto you both: and London too,  
Farewell to thee, where first I was enticed,  
That scandalized thy dignity with shame,  
But now thou hast returned me treble blame,  
My tongue that gave consent enjoined to beg.  
Mine eyes adjudged to hourly laments,  
Mine arms for their embracings, catch the air,  
And these quick nimble feet that were so ready  
To step into a king's for bidden bed,  
London thy flints have punished for their pride,  
And thou hast drunk their blood for thy revenge,  
What now avails to think what I have been,  
Then welcome nakedness and poverty,  
Welcome contempt, welcome you barren fields,  
Welcome the lack of meat, and lack of friends,  
And wretched jane, according to thy state,  
Sit here, sit here, and lower if might be:  
All things that breath in their extremity,  
Have some recourse of succour, thou hast none,  
The child offended flies unto the mother,  
The Soldier struck, retires unto his Captain,  
The fish distressed, slides into the river,  
Birds of the air do fly unto their dams,  
And underneath their wings are quickly shrouded  
Nay, beat the spaniel, & his master moans him,  
But I have neither where to shroud myself,  
Nor any one to make my moan unto,  
Come patience then, and though my body pine,  
Make then a banquet to refresh my soul,  
Let hearts deep throbbing sighs be all my bread,  
My drink salt tears, my guests repentant thoughts  
That who so knew me, and doth see me now,  
May shun by me the breach of wedlocks vow.  Enter brackenbury with a prayer book, & some relief in a cloth for mistress shore. Bra. 
Oh God how full of dangers grows these till  
And no assurance seen in any state,  
No man can say that he is master now,  
Of any thing is his, such is the tide  
Of sharp disturbance running through the land,  
I have given over my office in the Tower,  
Because I cannot brook their vile complots,  
Nor smother such outrageous villainies:  
But mistress Shore, to be so basely wronged,  
And vildly used, that hath so well deserved,  
It doth afflict me in the very soul,  
She saved my kinsman, harry Stranguidge life,  
Therefore in duty am I bound to her,  
To do what good I way, though law forbid,  
See where she sits, God comfort thee good soul,  
First take that to relieve thy body with,  
And next receive this book, wherein is food,  
Manna of heaven to refresh thy soul:  
These holy meditations mistress Shore,  
Will yield much comfort in this misery,  
Whereon contemplate still, and never lin,  
That God may be unmindful of thy sin.  Ia. 
Master Lieutenant, in my heart I thank ye,  
For this kind comfort to a wretched soul:  
Welcome sweet prayer-book, food of my life,  
The sovereign balm for my sick conscience:  
Thou shalt be my soul's pleasure and delight,  
To wipe my sins out of Jehovah's sight.  
B. Do so good mistress Shore, now I must leave ye,  
Because some other business calls me hence,  
And God I pray regard your penitence.  Exit. Ia. 
Farewell sir Robert, and for this good to me,  
The God of heaven be mindful still of thee.  As she sits weeping and praying, enters at one door young M. Air, and old Rufford at another. air. 
This way she went, and cannot be far off,  
For but even now I met the officers,  
That were attendant on her in her penance,  
Yonder she sits, now then Air show thyself,  
Thankful to her, that sometime saved thy life,  
When Law had made thee subject to base death,  
Give her thy purse, for here comes some Lady,  
Stand by a while, for fear thou be discovered.  Ruff. 
What mistress Shore, King Edward's concubine,  
Set on a molehill, oh disparagement.  
A throne were fitter for your Ladyship,  
Fie will you flubber these fair cheeks with fears?  
Or sit so solitary, where's all your servants?  
Where is your gown of silk, your periwigs,  
Your fine rebatoes, and your costly jewels,  
What not so much as a shoe upon your foot,  
Nay then I see the world goes hard with whores.  air. 
The villain slave gibes at her misery.  Ruf. 
Now whether is it better to be in court,  
And there to beg a licence of the King,  
For transportation of commodities,  
Then here to sit forsaken as thou dost,  
I think upon condition Edward lived,  
And thou were still in favour as before,  
Thou woulds not say that Rufford had deserved,  
To have his ears rent for a worser suit,  
Than licence to ship over corn and lead,  
What not a word, faith wench i'll tell thee what,  
If thou dost think thy old trade out of date,  
Go learn to play the bawd another while.  Ai. 
inhuman wretch, why dost thou scorn her so,  
And veer her grieved soul with bitter taunts,  Ruf. 
Because I will, she is a courtesan,  
And one abhorred of the world for lust.  Air. 
If all thy faults were in thy forehead writ,  
Perhaps thou wouldst thyself appear no less,  
But much more horrible than she doth now.  Ruff. 
You are no judge of mine sir.  air. 
Why nor thou of her.  Ruf. 
The world hath judged, and found her guilty,  
And 'tis the king's command she be held odious.  air. 
The King of heaven commandeth otherwise,  
And if thou be not willing to relieve her,  
Let it suffice thou seest her miserable,  
And study not to amplify her grief.  Enter mistress Blage very poorly a-begging, with her basket and clap-dish. 
What other woeful spectacle comes here?  
Mistress take that and spend it for my sake.  When Rufford looks away, Air throws his purse to mistress Shoare. Bla. 
Oh I am pinched with more than common want,  
Where shall I find relief? Good Gentleman,  
Pity a wretched woman like to starve,  
And I will pray for ye. One halfpenny  
For Christ's sake, to comfort me withal.  Ruf. 
What mistress Blage, be't you? no marvel sure,  
But you should be relieved, a halfpenny quotha?  
I marry sir, and so be hanged myself,  
Not I, this Gentleman may if he please,  
Get you to your companion mistress Shore,  
And then there is a pair of queans well met,  
Now I bethink me, i'll go to the King,  
And tell him that some will relieve shores wife,  
Except some officer there be appointed,  
That carefully regards it be not so.  
Thereof myself will I make offer to him,  
Which questionless he cannot but accept,  
So shall I still pursue shores wife with hate,  
That scorned me in her high whores estate.  Exit. Bla. 
Good Gentleman bestow your charity,  
One single halfpenny to help my need.  air. 
Not one, were I the master of a mint,  
What? succour thee that didst betray thy friend?  
See where she sits, whom thou didst scorn indeed,  
And therefore rightly art thou scorned again:  
Thou thoughtst to been riched with her goods,  
But thou hast now lost both thy own and hers,  
And for my part, knew It would save thy life,  
Thou shouldst not get so much as a crumb of bread  
Pack counterfeit, pack a way dissembling drab.  Bla. 
Oh misery, but shall I stay to look  
Her in her face, whom I so much have wronged?  Ia. 
Yes mistress Blage, I freely pardon you,  
You have done me no wrong, come sit by me:  
'twas so in wealth, why not in poverty?  Bla. 
Oh willingly if you can brook her presence,  
Whom you have greater reason to despise.  Ia. 
Why woman, Ric hard that hath banished me,  
And seeks my ruin (causeless though it be)  
Do I in heart pray for, and will do still,  
Come thou & share wit h me what God hath sent,  
A stranger gave it me, and part thereof  
I do as freely now bestow on you.  Bla. 
I thank you mistress Shore, this courtesy  
Renews the grief of my inconstancy.  Enter master Shoare with relief for his wife. Sho. 
Yonder she sits how like a withered tree,  
That is in winter leaveless and bereft  
Of lively sap, sits she poor abject soul,  
How much unlike the woman is she now,  
She was but yesterday: so short and brittle  
Is this world's happiness: but who is that.  
False mistress Blage? how canst thou brook her jane?  
I thou wast always mild and pitiful,  
Oh hadst thou been as chaste, we had been blessed,  
But now no more of that: she shall not starve,  
So long as this, and such as this may serve,  
Here mistress Shore, feed on these homely Cates,  
And there is wine to drink them down withal.  Ia. 
Good sir your name, that pities poor Ia. Shore  
That in my prayers I may remember you.  Sho. 
No matter for my name, I am a friend,  
That loves you well, so farewell mistress Shore,  
When that is spent, I vow to bring you more.  Ia. 
God's blessing be your guide where ere you go,  
Thus mistress Blage you see amidst our woe,  
For all the world can do, God sends relief,  
And will not yet we perish in our grief,  
Come let us step into some secret place.  Bla. 
'tis not amiss, if you be so content,  
For here the fields too open & frequent.  Exeunt. 
Where undisturbed we may partake this grace.  Master Shoare enters again. Sho. 
What is she gone so soon? alack poor jane,  
How I compassionate thy woeful case?  
Whereas we lived together man and wife,  
Oft on an humble stool by the fire side,  
Sat she contented, whenas my high heat,  
Would chid her for it. But what would she say  
Husband we both must lower sit one day,  
When I dare swear thee never dreamt of this,  
But see good God what prophesying is.  Enter Rufford and Fog, with the counterfeit letters Patents, Shoare stands aside. Ruff. 
This is King Richard's hand, I know it well,  
And this of thine is justly counterfeit,  
As he himself would swear it were his own.  Sho. 
The king's hand 〈◊〉 more of that.  Ruff. 
Why every letter, every little dash,  
In all respects alike, how may I use,  
My transportation of my cousin and hides,  
Without the danger of forbidding law,  
And so I would have done in Edward's days,  
But that good mistress Shore did please to cross me,  
But mark how now I will requite her for it.  
I moved my suit, and plainly told the King,  
Some would relieve her, if no man had charge,  
To see severely to the contrary.  
Forth with his Grace appointed me the man,  
And gave me officers to wait upon me,  
Which will so countenance thy cunning work,  
As I shall no way be suspected in it: how sayst thou Fog?  Fogge. 
It will do well indeed:  
But good sir have a care in any case,  
For else you know what barm may come thereon.  Ruff. 
A care sayst thou? why man, I will not trust  
My house, my strongest locks, nor any place,  
But mine own bosom, there will I keep it still,  
If I miscarry, so doth it with me.  Shoare. 
Are ye so cunning sir, I say no more,  
jane Shore or I may quittance you for this.  Exit. Ruff. 
Well Fog I have contented thee,  
Thou mayst be gone, I must about my charge,  
To see that none relieve shores wife with aught.  Exit. Fog. Enter the Officers with bills. 
Come on good fellows, you that must attend,  
King Richard's service under my command,  
Your charge is to be very vigilant,  
Over that strumpet whom they call shores wife:  
If any traitor give her but a mite,  
A draft of water, or a crust of bread,  
Or any other food whate'er it be,  
Lay hold on him, for it is present death,  
By good King Richard's proclamation,  
This is her haunt, here stand I Sentinel,  
Keep you unseen, and aid me when I call.  Enter jockey and jeffrey, with a bottle of Ale, Cheese, and halfpenny loaves, to play at bowls, mistress Shoare enters and sits where she was wont. Iock. 
Now must I under colour of playing at bowls, help till relieve my good masters, masters Shore. Come, jeffrey, we will play five up for this bottle of Ale, and yonder good pure woman shall keep the stakes, and this cheese shall be the master.  They play still toward her, and jockey often breaks bread and cheese, & gives her, till jeffrey being called away then he gives her all, and is apprehended. Ruf. 
Here is a villain, that will not relieve her,  
But yet he'll lose he bowls, that way to help her,  
Apprehend him fellows when I bid ye:  
Although his mate be gone, he shall pay for it.  
Take him, and let the Beadles whip him well.  Iock. 
Hear ye sir, shall they be whipped and hanged that give to the pure, than they shall be damn that take fro the pure.  They lead him away. Enter young Air again, and Shoare stands aloof off. air. 
Oh yonder sits the sweet forsaken soul,  
To whom for ever I stand deeply bound:  
She saved my life, than Air help to save hers.  Ruf. 
Whither go ye sir?  
You come to give this strumpet some relief.  Air. 
She did more good than ever thou canst do,  
And if thou wilt not pity her thyself,  
Give others leave, by duty bound thereto:  
Here mistress Shore, take this, and would to God  
It were so much as my poor heart could wish.  He gives his purse. Sho. 
Who is it that thus pities my poor wife?  
'tis M. Air, God's blessing on him for it.  Ruf. 
Darest thou do so Air?  Air. 
Rufford I dare do more:  
Here is my ring, it ways an ounce of Gold,  
And take my cloak to keep ye from the cold.  Ruf. 
Thou art a traitor Air.  Air. 
Rufford, thou art a villain so to call me.  Ruf. 
Lay hold on him, attach him officers.  Air. 
Rufford, I'll answer thine arrest with this.  He draws his rapler, but is apprehended. Ruff. 
All this contending sir will not avail,  
This treason will be rated at thy life.  air. 
Life is too little for her sake that saved it.  Sho. 
Is he a traitor sir, for doing good?  
God save the King, a true heart means no ill.  
I trust he hath reclaimed his sharp edict,  
And will not that his poorest subject perish,  
And so persuaded I myself will do,  
That which both love and nature binds me to.  
I cannot give her as she well deserves.  
For she hath lost a greater benefit.  
〈◊〉 woman take that purse.  Ruff. 
He takte away.  Sho. 
You shall not sir, for I will answer it,  
Before the King if you enforce it so.  Ruff. 
It must be so, you shall unto the King.  Sho. 
You will be he will first repent the thing:  
Come M. Air, i'll bear ye company,  
Which wise men doth say ease calamity,  Exeunt. jane. 
If grief to speech free passage could afford,  
Or for woe I had a fitting word,  
I might complain, or if my floods of tears,  
Could move remorse of minds, or pierce dull ears,  
Or wash away my cares, or cleanse my crime:  
With words & tears I would bewail the time.  
But it is bootless, why live I to see,  
All those despised that do pity me.  
Despised? alas, destroyed, and led to death,  
That gave me alms here to prolong my breath.  
Fair Dames behold, let my example prove,  
There is no love like to a husband's love.  Exit. Enter King Richard, Lovell, catesby, Rufford, Shoar, and Air pinioned, and led betwixt two Officers. Glo. 
Now tell us Rufford which of these it is,  
That in the heat of his upheaved spleen,  
contemns our crown, disdains our dignity,  
And arms himself against authority.  Ruff. 
Both have offended my dread sovereign,  
Though not alike, yet both faults capital,  
These lines declare what, when, & where it was.  Glo. 
Which is that Air?  Ruff. 
This young man my Liege.  Glo. 
I thought it was some hot distempered blood,  
That fired his giddy brain with business:  
Is thy name Air?  air. 
It is.  Glo. 
This paper says so.  air. 
Perish may he that made that paper speak.  Glo. 
Ha? Dost thou wish confusion unto us?  
This paper is the Organ of our power,  
And shall pronounce thy condemnation,  
We make it speak thy treasons to thy face,  
And thy malicious tongue speaks treason still.  
Relievest thou shores wife in contempt of us?  air. 
No, but her just desert,  
She saved my life, which I had forfeited,  
Whereby my goods and life she merited.  Glo. 
And thou shalt pay it in the self same place,  
Where thou this man our Officer, didst out face,  
And scorndst us saying if we stood by,  
Thou wouldst relieve her.  air. 
I do not deny,  
For want of food her breath was near expired,  
I gave her means to buy it undesired,  
And rather choose to die for charity,  
Then live condemned of ingratitude.  Gl. 
Your good devotion brings you to the gallows,  
He hath his sentence, Rufford see him hanged.  They lead out Air. 
Now sir your name?  Sho. 
Is it not written there?  Glo. 
Here's Mathew Flood.  Ruf. 
That is his name my Lord.  Glo. 
Is thy name Flood?  Sho. 
So M. Rufford sates.  Glo. 
Flood and Air? the elements conspire,  
In air and water to confound our power:  
Didst thou relieve that hateful wretch shores wife?  Sho. 
I did relieve that woeful wretch shores wife.  Gl. 
Thou seemst a man well stayed and temperate,  
Durst thou infringe our proclamation?  Sho. 
I did not break it.  Ruf. 
Yes, and added more,  
That you would answer it before the King.  Sho. 
And added more, you would repent the thing.  Ru. 
Who, I? his Highness knows my innocence,  
And ready service with my goods and life,  
Answer thy treasons to his majesty.  Glo. 
What canst thou say Flood why thou shouldst not die?  Sho. 
Nothing, for I am mortal and must die,  
When my time comes, but that I thinks not yet,  
Although (God knows) each hour I wish it were,  
So full of dolour is my weary life:  
Now say I this, that I do know the man,  
Which doth abet that traitorous libeler,  
Who did compose & spread that slanderous rhyme,  
Which scandals you, and doth abuse the time.  Glo. 
What libeler? another Collingborne?  
That wrote: The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our Dog,  
Do rule all England under a Hog.  
Canst thou repeat it Flood?  Sho. 
I think I can if you command me so.  Glo. 
We do command thee.  Sho. 
In this sort it goes.  
The crook baked Boar the way hath found,  
To root our Roses from our ground,  
Both flower and bud will he confound,  
Till King of beasts the swine be crowned:  
And then the Dog, the Cat, and Rat,  
Shall in his trough feed and be fat.  Finis 
quoth M. Fog, chief secretary and counsellor to M. Rufford.  Glo. 
How sayst thou Flood, doth Rufford foster this?  Sho. 
He is a traitor if he do my Lord.  Ruf. 
I foster it? dread Lord I ask no grace,  
If I be guilty of this libeling,  
Vouchsafe me justice as you are my Prince,  
Against this traitor that accuseth me.  Sh. 
What justice cravest thou? I will combat thee,  
In sign whereof I do unbutton me,  
And in my shirt my challenge will maintain,  
Thou call'st me traitor, I will prove thee one,  
Open thy bosom like me if thou darest?  Ruff. 
I will not be so rude before his grace.  Sh. 
Thou wilt not ope the pack of thy disgrace.  
Because thy doublets stuffed with traitorous libels.  Glo. 
catesby tear off the buttons from his breast.  
What findst thou there?  Cat. 
Your highness hand and seal,  
For transportation of Hides, Corn and Lead.  Glo. 
Traitor, did I sign that commission?  Ruf. 
O pardon me most royal King.  Glo. 
Pardon? to counterfeit my hand and seal?  
Have I bestowed such love, such countenance?  
Such trust on thee, and such authority,  
To have my hand and signet counterfeit?  
To carry Corn the food of all the land,  
And Lead, which after might annoy the land,  
And Hides, whose leather must relieve the land,  
To stranger's enemies unto the land:  
Didst thou so nearly counterfeit my hand?  Ruf. 
Not I my liege, but Fog the Attorney.  Glo. 
Away with him Lovell and catesby, go,  
Command the Sheriffs of London presently,  
To see him drawn, and hanged, and quartered,  
Let them not drink before they see him dead.  
Hast you again.  Lovell and catesby lead out Rufford. Ruff. 
Well Flood thou art my death,  
I might have lived t' have seen thee lose thy head.  Sho. 
Thou hast but justice for thy cruelty,  
Against the guiltless souls in misery,  
I ask no favour if I merit death.  Glo. 
crav'st thou no favour? than I tell thee Flood,  
Thou art a traitor breaking our edict,  
By succouring that traitorous quean shores wife.  
And thou shalt die.  Sho. 
If I have broke the law.  Glo. 
If traitor? didst thou not give her thy purse?  
And doest thou not maintain the deed?  Enter Lovell and catesby again. Sho. 
I do, if it be death to the relenting heart,  
Of a kind husband, wronged by a King,  
To pity his poor weak seduced wife,  
Whom all the world must suffer by command,  
To pine and perish for the want of food:  
If it be treason for her husband then,  
In the dear bowels of his former love,  
To bury his own wrong and her misdeed,  
And give her meat whom he was wont to feed,  
Than Shore must die, for Flood is not my name,  
Though once I took it to conceal my shame,  
Pity permits not injured Shore pass by,  
And see his once loud wife with famine die.  Glo. 
Lovell & catesby, this is Shore indeed,  Shore, 
We confess that thou hast privilege,  
And art excepted in our Proclamation,  
Because thou art her husband whom it concerns,  
And thou mayst lawfully relieve thy wife,  
Upon condition thou forgive her fault,  
Take her again, and use her as before,  
Hazard new horns, how sayst thou, wilt thou Shore?  Sho. 
If any but your Grace should so upbraid,  
Such rude reproach should roughly be repaid.  
Suppose for treason that she lay condemned,  
Might I not seed her till her hour of death,  
And yet myself no traitor for it?  Glo. 
Thou mightst.  Sh. 
And why not now (O pardon me dread lord)  
When she hath had both punishment and shame  
Sufficient, since a King did cause her blame,  
May I not give her food to save her life,  
Yet never take and use her as my wife?  Glo. 
Except thou take her home again to thee,  
Thou art a stranger, and it shall not be,  
For if thou do, expect what doth belong.  Sho. 
I never can forget so great a wrong.  Glo. 
Then never feed her whom thou canst not love.  Sho. 
My charity doth that compassion move.  Gl. 
Move us no more, Lovell let Air be hanged,  
Just in the place where he relieved shores wife:  
Shore hath his pardon for this first offence.  
The name of husband pleads his innocence,  
Away with them: catesby come you with us?  Exeunt. jockey is led to whipping over the stage, speaking some words, but of no importance. Then is young Air brought forth to execution, with the Sheriff and Officers, Mistress Shoare weeping, and M. Shoare standing by. air. 
Good mistress Shore, grieve me not with your tears,  
But let me go in quiet to mine end.  jane. 
Alas poor soul,  
Was never innocent thus put to death.  Air. 
The moor my joy, that I am innocent,  
My death is the less grievous, I am so.  Ia. 
Ah M. Air the time hath been ere now,  
When I have kneeled to Edward on my knees,  
And begged for him, that now doth make me beg.  
I have given him, when he hath begged of me,  
Though he forbids to give me when I beg,  
I have ere now relieved him and his,  
Though he and his deny relief to me:  
Had I been envious then, as Richard now,  
I had not starved, nor Edward's sons been murdered,  
Nor Richard lived to put you now to death.  air. 
The more jane is thy virtue and his sin.  Sher. 
Come sir dispatch.  air. 
Dispatch say you? dispatch you may it call,  
He cannot stay when death dispatcheth all.  Ia. 
Lord, is my sin so horrible and grievous,  
That I should now become a murderer?  
I have saved the life of many a man condemned,  
But never was the death of man before.  
That any man thus for my sake should die,  
Afflicts me more than all my misery.  air. 
jane be content,  
I am as much indebted unto thee,  
As unto nature, I owed thee a life,  
When it was forfeit unto death by law,  
Thou begot it of the king and gav'st it me:  
This house of flesh wherein this soul doth dwell,  
Is thine, and thou art Landlady of it,  
And this poor life a Tenant but at pleasure,  
It never came to pay the rent till now,  
But hath run in arrearage all this while,  
And now for very shame comes to discharge it,  
When death distrains for what is but thy due,  
I had not aught thee so much as I do,  
But by thy only mercy to preserve it,  
Until I lose it for my charity.  
Thou giv'st me more than ever I can pay,  
Then do thy pleasure executioner,  
And now farewell kind virtuous mistress Shore,  
In heaven we'll meet again, in earth no more.  Here he is executed. Ia. 
Farewell, farewell, thou for thy alms dost die.  
And I must end here starved in misery,  
In life my friend, in death i'll not forsake thee,  
Thou goest to heaven, I hope to overtake thee.  Sho. 
O world what art thou? man, even from his birth  
Finds nothing else but misery on earth,  
Thou never (world) scornedst me so much before,  
But I (vain world) do hate thee ten times more.  
I am glad I feel approaching death so nigh,  
World thou hatest me, I thee vain world defy.  
I pray ye yet good master officers,  
Do but this kindness to poor wretched souls,  
As let us have the burial of our friend,  
It is but so much labour saved for you.  She. 
There take his body, bury it where you will,  
So it be quickly done out of the way.  Exit Sheriff and Officers. Ia. 
What's he that begs the burial of my friend,  
And hath so oftentimes relieved me?  
Ah gentle sir, to comfort my sad woe,  
Let me that good kind man of mercy know.  Sho. 
Ah jane, now there is none but thou and I  
Look on me well, knowest thou thy Ma. Shore?  Ia. 
My Husband? then break and live no more.  She swounds, and he supports her in his arms. Sho. 
Ah my dear jane, comfort thy heavy soul,  
Go not away so soon, a little stay,  
A little, little while, that thou and I,  
Like man and wife may here together die,  jane. 
How can I look upon my husband's face,  
That shamed myself, and wrought his deep disgrace?  Sho. 
jane be content, our woes are now alike,  
With one self rod thou seest God doth us strike,  
If for thy sin, I'll pray to heaven for thee,  
And if for mine, do thou as much for me.  jane. 
Ah Shore, be't possible thou canst forgive me?  Shoare. 
Yes jane, I doc.  jane. 
I cannot hope thou wilt:  
My faults so great that I cannot expect it.  Sho. 
i'faith I do, as freely from my soul,  
As at God's hands I hope to be forgiven.  Ia. 
Then God reward thee, for we now must part,  
I feel cold death doth seize upon my heart.  Sho. 
And he is come to me, here he lies,  
I feel him ready to close up mine eyes,  
Lend me thy hand to bury this our friend,  
And then we both will hasten to our end.  Here they put the body of young Air into a Coffin, and then he fits down on the one side of it, and she on the other. jane 
sit thou there, here I my place will have,  
Give me thy hand, thus we embrace our grave,  
Ah jane, he that the depth of woe will see,  
Let him but now behold our misery:  
But be content, this is the best of all,  
Lower than now we are, we cannot fall.  jane. 
Ah, I am faint, how happy air art thou,  
Not feeling that which doth afflict us now?  Sho. 
Oh happy grave, to us this comfort giving,  
Here lies two living dead, here one dead living,  
Here for his sake, lo this we do for thee,  
Thou lookest for one, and art possessed of three.  Ia. 
Oh dying marriage, oh, sweet married death  
Thou grave which only shouldst part faithful friends,  
Bringst us together, and dost join our hands,  
Oh living death, even in this dying life,  
Yet ere I go, once Mathew kiss thy wife.  He kisseth her, and she dies. S. 
Ah my sweet jane, farewell, farewell poor soul,  
Now tyrant Richard do the worst thou canst,  
She doth defy thee, oh unconstant world,  
Here lies a true Anatomy of thee,  
A King had all my joy, that her enjoyed,  
And by a King again she was destroyed:  
All ages of my kingly woes shall tell,  
Once more inconstant world farewell, farewell.  he dies. Enter sir Robert brackenbury, with two or three of his servants. Bra. 
Sirs if the King, or else the Duke of Buckingham  
Do send for me, I will attend them straight,  
But what are these here openly lie dead,  
Oh God, the one is mistress Shore, & this is Flood,  
That was my man: the third is master Air,  
Who suffered death for his relieving her,  
They shall not thus lie in the open way,  
Lend me your hands, and heavy hearts withal,  
At mine own charge lie give them burial.  They bear them thence. Enter King Richard crowned, Buckingham, Air of Warwick, Lovell, catesby, Fog, and attendants. Richard. 
Most noble Lords, since it hath pleased you,  
Beyond our expectation on yeur bounties,  
T'empale my temples with the Diadem.  
How far my quiet thoughts have ever been,  
From this great majestic sovereignty,  
Heaven best can witness: I am your King,  
Long may I be so, to deserve your love,  
But I will be a servant to you all,  
Pray God my broken sleeps may give you rest.  
But only that my blood doth challenge it,  
Being your lawful Prince by true succession,  
I could have wished, with all my heart I could,  
This majesty had sitten on the brow  
Of any other: so much do I affect a private life,  
To spend my dates in contemplation.  
But since that heaven and you will have it so,  
I take the crown as meekly at your hands,  
As free and pure from an ambitious thought,  
As any new born babe. Thus must thou Richard  
Seem as a saint to men in outward show, aside.  
Being a very devil in thy heart:  
Thus must thou cover all thy villainies,  
And keep them close from overlookers' eyes.  Buck. 
My Sovereign by the general consent  
Of all the Lords and commons of the land,  
I tender to your royal majesty,  
This princely Lady, the Lady Anne of Warwick  
judged the only worthiest of your love,  
To be your highness bride, fair England's Queen  Rich. 
My royal Princely cousin Buckingham,  
I see you strive to bless me more and more,  
Your bounty is so large and ample to me,  
You overflow my spirits with your great love,  
I willingly accept this virtuous Princess,  
And crown her Angel beauty with my love.  Lo. 
Then as the hand of your high parliament,  
I give her here unto your majesty.  Rich. 
Lord Lovell I as heartily receive her,  
Welcome fair Queen.  C. 
And from the Lords & commons of your land  
I give the free and voluntary oath,  
Of their allegiance to your majesty.  
As to their sovereign and liege Lord and Lady,  
Richard the third, & beauteous Anne his Queen,  
The true and lawful King & Queen of England.  Rich. 
I do accept it catesby, and return,  
Exchange of mutual and party love.  
Now Fog too, that in your traitorous Libels,  
Besides the counterfeiting of our hand and seal  
For Rufford, though so great a fault deserved  
To suffer death, as he already hath,  
Going about to slubber our renown,  
And wound us with reproach and infamy,  
Yet Fog that thou thyself mayst plainly see,  
How far I am from seeking sharp revenge,  
Fog I forgive thee, and withal we do,  
Repeal our heavy sentence 'gainst shores wife,  
Restoring all her goods, for we intend,  
With all the world now to be perfect friends.  Cat. 
Why my good Lord, you knew she's dead already.  R. 
True catesby, else I near had spoke such words,  aside. 
Alas I see our kindness comes too late,  
For catesby tells me she is dead already.  Cat. 
I my good Lord, so is her husband too.  Rich. 
Would they had lived, to see our friendly change,  
But catesby say, where died Shore and his wife?  Cat. 
Where Air was hanged for giving her relief,  
There both of them round circling his cold grave,  
And arm in arm departed from this life:  
The people for the love they bear to her,  
And her kind husband, pitying his wrongs,  
For ever after mean to call the ditch,  
shores Ditch, as in the memory of them,  
Their bodies in the friars minorites,  
Are in one grave interred all together,  
But mistress Blage for ingratitude,  
To mistress Shore, lies dead unburied,  
And no one will afford her burial.  Ric. 
But mistress Blage she shall have burial too,  
What now we must be friends, indeed we must,  
And now my Lords, I give you all to know,  
In memory of our eternal love,  
I do ordain an order of the bath,  
twelve knights in number of that royal sort,  
Which order with all princely ceremonies,  
Shall be observed in all royal pomp,  
As Edward's our forefather of the Barter,  
Which feast ourself, and our beloved Queen,  
Will presently solemnize in our person.  Buc. 
Now am I bold to put your grace in mind  
Of my long suit, and partly your own promise,  
The Earl of Hereford's lands.  Rich. 
cousin we'll better think on that here after.  Buc. 
My pains my Lord hath not deserved delay.  Ric. 
will you appoint our time: than you shall stay,  
For this hot hastiness sir you shall stay,  
Moon us no more you were best.  Buc. 
I Richard, is it come to this?  
In my first suit of all, dost thou deny me?  
Break thine own word, & turn me off so slightly,  
Richard thou hadst as good have damned thy soul,  
As basely thus to deal with Buckingham:  
Richard i'll sit upon thy crumped shoulder:  
i'faith I will, if heaven will give me leave,  
And harry Richmond, this hand alone,  
Shall fetch thee home, and seat thee in his throne.  Exit. Rich. 
What is he gone in heat, why farewell be,  
He is displeased, let him be pleased again,  
We have no time to think on angry men:  
Come my sweet Queen, let us go solemnize,  
Our Knighthood's order in most royal wise.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.