The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1944]
LORD MAYOR.
It shall be so:
But yond me thinks my lord of Shrewsbury.
[Enter Shrewsbury.]
SHREWSBURY.
My lord, his majesty sends loving thanks
To you, your brethren, and his faithful subjects,
Your careful citizens.—But, Master More, to you
A rougher, yet as kind, a salutation:
A knights creation is this knightly steel.
Rise up, Sir Thomas More.
MORE.
I thank his highness for thus honoring me.
SHREWSBURY.
This is but first taste of his princely favor:
For it hath pleased his high majesty
(Noting your wisdom and deserving merit)
To put this staff of honor in your hand,
For he hath chose you of his Privy Council.
MORE.
My lord, for to deny my sovereign's bounty
Were to drop precious stones into the heaps
Whence they first came;
To urge my imperfections in excuse,
Were all as stale as custom: no, my lord,
My service is my kings; good reason why,—
Since life or death hangs on our sovereign's eye.
LORD MAYOR.
His majesty hath honored much the city
In this his princely choice.
MORE.
My lord and brethren,
Though I depart for court my love shall rest
With you, as heretofore, a faithful guest.
I now must sleep in court, sound sleeps forbear;
The chamberlain to state is public care:
Yet, in this rising of my private blood,
My studious thoughts shall tend the city's good.
[Enter Crofts.]
SHREWSBURY.
How now, Crofts! what news?
CROFTS.
My lord, his highness sends express command
That a record be entered of this riot,
And that the chief and capital offenders
Be thereon straight arraigned, for himself intends
To sit in person on the rest tomorrow
At Westminster.
SHREWSBURY.
Lord Mayor, you hear your charge.—
Come, good Sir Thomas More, to court let's hie;
You are th' appeaser of this mutiny.
MORE.
My lord, farewell: new days begets new tides;
Life whirls bout fate, then to a grave it slides.
[Exeunt severally.]
ACT III.
SCENE I. Cheapside.
[Enter Master Sheriff, and meet a Messenger.]
SHERIFF.
Messenger, what news?
MESSENGER.
Is execution yet performed?
SHERIFF.
Not yet; the carts stand ready at the stairs,
And they shall presently away to Tibourne.
MESSENGER.
Stay, Master Shrieve; it is the council's pleasure,
For more example in so bad a case,
A gibbet be erected in Cheapside,
Hard by the Standard; whether you must bring
Lincoln and those that were the chief with him,
[Enter Officers.]
To suffer death, and that immediately.
SHERIFF.
It shall be done, sir.
[Exit Messenger.]
—Officers, be speedy;
Call for a gibbet, see it be erected;
Others make haste to Newgate, bid them bring
The prisoners hither, for they here must die:
Away, I say, and see no time be slacked.
OFFICERS.
We go, sir.
[Exit some severally; others set up the gibbet.]
SHERIFF.
That's well said, fellow; now you do your duty.—
God for his pity help these troublous times!
The streets stopped up with gazing multitudes:
Command our armed officers with halberds
Make way for entrance of the prisoners;
Let proclamation once again be made.
That every householder, on pain of death,
Keep in his prentices, and every man
Stand with a weapon ready at his door,
As he will answer to the contrary.
OFFICER.
I'll see it done, sir.
[Exit.]
[Enter another Officer.]
SHERIFF.
Bring them away to execution:
The writ is come above two hours since:
The city will be fined for this neglect.
OFFICER.
There's such a press and multitude at Newgate,
They cannot bring the carts onto the stairs,
To take the prisoners in.
SHERIFF.
Then let them come on foot;
We may not dally time with great command.
OFFICER.
Some of the bench, sir, think it very fit
That stay be made, and give it out abroad
The execution is deferred till morning,
And, when the streets shall be a little cleared,
To chain them up, and suddenly dispatch it.
SHERIFF.
Stay; in mean time me thinks they come along:
See, they are coming. So, tis very well:
[The prisoners are brought in, well guarded.]
Bring Lincoln there the first unto the tree.
CLOWN.
I, for I cry lug, sir.
LINCOLN.
I knew the first,