SIR THOMAS MORE
Page: 18

Should so much come to short of your great trespass
As but to banish you, whether would you go?
What country, by the nature of your error,
Should give you harbor? go you to France or Flanders,
To any German province, to Spain or Portugal,
Nay, any where that not adheres to England,--
Why, you must needs be strangers: would you be pleased
To find a nation of such barbarous temper,
That, breaking out in hideous violence,
Would not afford you an abode on earth,
Whet their detested knives against your throats,
Spurn you like dogs, and like as if that God
Owed not nor made not you, nor that the claimants
Were not all appropriate to your comforts,
But chartered unto them, what would you think
To be thus used? this is the strangers case;
And this your mountanish inhumanity.

ALL.
Faith, a says true: let's do as we may be done to.

LINCOLN.
We'll be ruled by you, Master More, if you'll stand our friend to
procure our pardon.

MORE.
Submit you to these noble gentlemen,
Entreat their mediation to the king,
Give up yourself to form, obey the magistrate,
And there's no doubt but mercy may be found,
If you so seek.
To persist in it is present death: but, if you
Yield yourselves, no doubt what punishment
You in simplicity have incurred, his highness
In mercy will most graciously pardon.

ALL.
We yield, and desire his highness' mercy.

[They lay by their weapons.]

MORE.
No doubt his majesty will grant it you:
But you must yield to go to several prisons,
Till that his highness' will be further known.

ALL.
Most willingly; whether you will have us.

SHREWSBURY.
Lord Mayor, let them be sent to several prisons,
And there, in any case, be well intreated.--
My lord of Surrey, please you to take horse,
And ride to Cheapside, where the aldermen
Are with their several companies in arms;
Will them to go unto their several wards,
Both for the stay of furth mutiny,
And for the apprehending of such persons
As shall contend.


SURREY.
I go, my noble lord.

[Exit Surrey.]

SHREWSBURY.
We'll straight go tell his highness these good news;
Withal, Shrieve More, I'll tell him how your breath