The giddy multitude, blind to their own good,
And listening with avidity to the tale

Of courtly falsehood.

Piers.

His plighted promise.

The King must perform

(Cry without. The Charter;—the Charter.)

Enter Mob and Herald.

Tom Miller. Read it out-read it out.
Hob. Aye, aye, let's hear the Charter.

Herald. Richard Plantagenet, by the grace of God, King of England, Ireland, France, Scotland, and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, to all whom it may concern, -These presents: Whereas our loving subjects have complained to us of the heavy burdens they endure, particularly from our late enacted poll-tax; and whereas they have risen in arms against our officers, and demanded the abolition of personal slavery, vassalage and manorial rights; we, ever ready in our sovereign mercy to listen to the petitions of our loving subjects, do annul all these grievances.

Mob. Huzza! long live the King.

Herald (continues). And do of our royal mercy grant a free pardon to all who may have been anyways concerned in the late insurrections. All this shall be faithfully performed on our royal word, so help us God.-God save the King.

[Loud and repeated shouts. Herald. Now then depart in quiet to your homes. John Ball. Nay, my good friend, the people will

remain

Embodied peaceably, till parliament

Confirm the royal Charter: tell your King so:
We will await the Charter's confirmation,
Meanwhile comporting ourselves orderly,
As peaceful citizens, not risen in tumult,
But to redress their evils.

Hob.

[Exit Herald, &c.

'Twas well ordered.

I place but little trust in courtly faith.

John Ball. We must remain embodied; else the

King

Will plunge again in royal luxury,

And when the storm of danger is past over,

Forget his promises.

Hob.

Aye, like an aguish sinner, He'll promise to repent, when the fit's on him, When well recover'd, laugh at his own terrors. Piers. Oh I am grieved that we must gain so little. Why are not all these empty ranks abolish'd, King, slave, and lord, ennobled into MAN. Are we not equal all? — have you not told me Equality is the sacred right of man,

Inalienable, though by force withheld?

John Ball. Even so: but, Piers, my frail and fallible judgement

Knows hardly to decide if it be right,
Peaceably to return, content with little,
With this half restitution of our rights,

Or boldly to proceed, through blood and slaughter,
Till we should all be equal and all happy.

I chose the milder way :—perhaps I err'd!

Piers. I fear me! By the mass, the unsteady people Are flocking homewards - how the multitude Diminishes!

John Ball. Go thou, my son, and stay them. Carter, do you exert your influence,

All depends upon their stay: my mind is troubled, And I would fain compose my thoughts for action.

Father of mercies!
That I have err'd.

[Exeunt Hob and Piers.

I do fear me much

Thou gavest my ardent mind

To pierce the mists of superstitious falsehood;-
Gavest me to know the truth. I should have urged it
Through every opposition; now, perhaps,
The seemly voice of pity has deceived me
And all this mighty movement ends in ruin.
I fear me I have been like the weak leech,
Who, sparing to cut deep, with cruel mercy
Mangles his patient without curing him.

[Great tumult. What means this tumult? hark! the clang of arms. God of eternal justice-the false monarch

Has broke his plighted vow.

[Enter Piers wounded.

Piers. Fly, fly, my father-the perjured King,

fly, fly.

John Ball. Nay, nay, my child; I dare abide my

fate.

Let me bind up thy wounds.

Piers.

'Tis useless succour.

They seek thy life; fly, fly, my honoured father,

And let me have the hope to sweeten death
That thou at least hast 'scaped. They are murdering
Our unsuspecting brethren: half unarm'd,

Trusting too fondly to the tyrant's word,

They were dispersing:-the streets swim with blood. Oh, save thyself. [Enter soldiers. 1st Soldier. This is that old seditious heretic.

2d Soldier. And here the young spawn of re

bellion;

My orders ar'n't to spare him.

Come, you

[Stabs Piers.

old stirrer-up of insurrection,

You bell-wether of the mob-you ar❜n't to die

So easily.

[Leading him off. (Mob fly across the stage-the troops pursue them – tumult increases-loud cries and shouts.

SCENE II.

Westminster Hall.

KING, WALWORTH, PHILPOT, SIR JOHN
TRESILIAN, &c.

Walworth. My liege, 'twas wisely ordered, to destroy

The dunghill rabble, but take prisoner

That old seditious priest: his strange wild notions Of this equality, when well exposed,

Will create ridicule, and shame the people

Of their late tumults.

Sir John.

Aye, there's nothing like

A fair, free, open trial, where the King

Can choose his jury and appoint his judges.
King. Walworth, I must thank you for my

liverance,

'Twas a bold deed to stab him in the parley.

de

Kneel down, and rise a knight, Sir William Walworth.

Enter Messenger.

Messenger. I left them hotly at it. Smithfield smoked

With the rebels' blood! your troops fought loyally, There's not a man of them will lend an ear

To pity.

Walworth. Is John Ball secured?

Messenger.

They have seized him.

Enter Guards, with John Ball.

1st Guard. We've brought the old villain.

2d Guard.

An old mischief maker

Why there's fifteen hundred of the mob are killed,
All through his preaching.

Sir John Tr. Prisoner, are you the arch-rebel
John Ball?

John Ball. I am John Ball; but I am not a rebel.
Take ye the name, who, arrogant in strength,
Rebel against the people's sovereignty.

Sir John Tr. John Ball, you are accused of stirring up

The poor deluded people to rebellion;

Not having the fear of God and of the King
Before your eyes; of preaching up strange notions,
Heretical and treasonous; such as saying

That kings have not a right from Heaven to govern ;
That all mankind are equal; and that rank.
And the distinctions of society,

Aye, and the sacred rights of property,
Are evil and oppressive; plead you guilty
To this most heavy charge?

John Ball.

If it be guilt,