SIR THOMAS MORE
Page: 12

George Philpots at Dowgate; he's the best backswordman in
England.

KIT.
Bate me an ace of that, quoth Bolton.

HARRY.
I'll not bate ye a pin on 't, sir; for, by this cudgel, tis true.

KIT.
I will cudgel that opinion out of ye: did you break an ushers head,
sir?

HARRY.
Aye, marry, did I, sir.

KIT.
I am very glad on 't: you shall break mine too, and ye can.

HARRY.
Sirrah, I prithee, what art thou?

KIT.
Why, I am a prentice as thou art; seest thou now? I'll play with
thee at blunt here in Cheapside, and when thou hast done, if thou
beest angry, I'll fight with thee at sharp in Moore fields. I have a
sword to serve my turn in a favor. . . . come Julie, to serve . . . .


SCENE II. Saint Martins-le-Grand.

[Enter Lincoln, two Bettses, Williamson, Sherwin, and other,
armed; Doll in a shirt of mail, a headpiece, sword, and buckler; a
crew attending.]

CLOWN.
Come, come; we'll tickle their turnips, we'll butter their boxes.
Shall strangers rule the roost? yes; but we'll baste the roost. Come,
come; a flaunt, a flaunt!

GEORGE.
Brother, give place, and hear John Lincoln speak.

CLOWN.
Aye, Lincoln my leader,
And Doll my true breeder,
With the rest of our crew,
Shall ran tan tarra ran;
Do all they what they can.
Shall we be bobbed, braved? no:
Shall we be held under? no;
We are freeborne,
And do take scorn
To be used so.

DOLL.
Peace there, I say! hear Captain Lincoln speak; keep silence, till we
know his mind at large.

CLOWN.
Then largely deliver; speak, bully: and he that presumes to
interrupt thee in thy oration, this for him.

LINCOLN.
Then, gallant bloods, you whose free souls do scorn
To bear the inforced wrongs of aliens,
Add rage to resolution, fire the houses
Of these audacious strangers. This is St. Martins,
And yonder dwells Mutas, a wealthy Piccardy,
At the Green Gate,
De Barde, Peter Van Hollocke, Adrian Martine,
With many more outlandish fugitives.
Shall these enjoy more privilege than we
In our own country? let's, then, become their slaves.
Since justice keeps not them in greater awe,
We be ourselves rough ministers at law.