So, sirs. Now go some and pull down the Savoy; others to th’ Inns of Court; down with them all.

I have a suit unto your lordship.

Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.

Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.

[Aside.] Mass, ’twill be sore law, then; for he was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and ’tis not whole yet.

[Aside.] Nay, John, it will be stinking law, for his breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.

I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away, burn all the records of the realm. My mouth shall be the parliament of England.

[Aside.] Then we are like to have biting statutes, unless his teeth be pulled out.

And henceforward all things shall be in common.

My lord, a prize, a prize! Here’s the Lord Saye, which sold the towns in France; he that made us pay one-and-twenty fifteens, and one shilling to the pound, the last subsidy.

Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah, thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! Now art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer to my majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the Dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to the King, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men before them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou hast put them in prison, and because they could not read, thou hast hanged them, when indeed only for that cause they have been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride on a foot-cloth, dost thou not?

What of that?

Marry, thou ought’st not to let thy horse wear a cloak when honester men than thou go in their hose and doublets.

And work in their shirt too; as myself, for example, that am a butcher.

You men of Kent—

What say you of Kent?

Nothing but this; ’tis bona terra, mala gens.

Away with him, away with him! He speaks Latin.

Tut, when struck’st thou one blow in the field?

O monstrous coward! What, to come behind folks?

These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.

Give him a box o’ th’ ear, and that will make ’em red again.

Ye shall have a hempen caudle then, and the help of hatchet.

Why dost thou quiver, man?

The palsy, and not fear, provokes me.

Nay, he nods at us, as who should say, “I’ll be even with you.” I’ll see if his head will stand steadier on a pole or no. Take him away, and behead him.

[Aside.] I feel remorse in myself with his words, but I’ll bridle it. He shall die, an it be but for pleading so well for his life. Away with him! He has a familiar under his tongue; he speaks not i’ God’s name. Go, take him away, I say, and strike off his head presently; and then break into his son-in-law’s house, Sir James Cromer, and strike off his head, and bring them both upon two poles hither.

It shall be done.

Away with him! And do as I command ye.

My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside and take up commodities upon our bills?

Marry, presently.

O, brave!

But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another, for they loved well when they were alive. Now part them again, lest they consult about the giving up of some more towns in France. Soldiers, defer the spoil of the city until night; for with these borne before us instead of maces will we ride through the streets, and at every corner have them kiss. Away!