Piers. Yet I have often heard you speak of riches
Even with contempt; they cannot purchase peace,
Or innocence, or virtue; sounder sleep
Waits on the weary ploughman's lowly bed,
Than on the downy couch of luxury

Lulls the rich slave of pride and indolence.
I never wish for wealth; my arm is strong,
And I can purchase by it a coarse meal,
And hunger savours it.

Tyler.

Young man, thy mind Has yet to learn the hard lesson of experience. Thou art yet young: the blasting breath of want Has not yet froze the current of thy blood.

Piers. Fare not the birds well, as from spray to

spray,

Blithesome they bound, yet find their simple food Scatter'd abundantly?

Tyler. No fancied boundaries of mine and thine Restrain their wanderings. Nature gives enough For all; but Man, with arrogant selfishness, Proud of his heaps, hoards up superfluous stores Robb'd from his weaker fellows, starves the poor, Or gives to pity what he owes to justice!

Piers. So I have heard our good friend John Ball preach. [prison'd? Alice. My father, wherefore was John Ball imWas he not charitable, good, and pious?

I have heard him say that all mankind are brethren, And that like brethren they should love each other; Was not that doctrine pious?

Tyler.

Rank sedition

High treason, every syllable, my child!

The priests cry out on him for heresy,
The nobles all detest him as a rebel,

And this good man, this minister of Christ,
This man, the friend and brother of mankind,
Lingers in the dark dungeon!-My dear Alice,

Retire awhile.

[Exit Alice. Piers, I would speak to thee,

Even with a father's love! you are much with me, And I believe do court my conversation;

Thou could'st not choose thee forth a truer friend.

I would fain see thee happy, but I fear

Thy very virtues will destroy thy peace.

My daughter she is young

not yet fifteen :

Piers, thou art generous, and thy youthful heart
Warm with affection; this close intimacy

Will ere long grow to love.

Piers.

Were that an evil, Walter?

Suppose it so;

She is mild

And cheerful, and industrious :-now methinks
With such a partner life would be most happy!
Why would ye warn me then of wretchedness?
Is there an evil that can harm our lot?

I have been told the virtuous must be happy,
And have believed it true: tell me, my friend,
What shall disturb the virtuous ?

Tyler.

A bitter foe.

Piers.

Poverty,

Nay, you have often told me

That happiness does not consist in riches.

Tyler. It is most true; but tell me, my dear boy,

Could'st thou be happy to behold thy wife

Pining with want? the children of your loves

Clad in the squalid rags of wretchedness?
And, when thy hard and unremitting toil
Had earn'd with pain a scanty recompense,

Could'st thou be patient when the law should rob thee And leave thee without bread and pennyless?

Piers. It is a dreadful picture.

Tyler.

'Tis a true one.

Piers. But yet methinks our sober industry Might drive away the danger! 'tis but little That I could wish; food for our frugal meals, Raiment, however homely, and a bed

To shield us from the night.

Tyler.

Thy honest reason

Could wish no more: but were it not most wretched

To want the coarse food for the frugal meal?
And by the orders of your merciless lord,
If you by chance were guilty of being poor,
To be turn'd out adrift to the bleak world,
Unhoused, unfriended?-Piers, I have not been idle,
I never ate the bread of indolence;

Could Alice be more thrifty than her mother?
Yet with but one child,—and that one how good,
Thou knowest, I scarcely can provide the wants
Of nature look at these wolves of the law,
They come to drain me of my hard-earn'd wages.
I have already paid the heavy tax

Laid on the wool that clothes me, on my leather,
On all the needful articles of life!

And now three groats (and I work'd hard to earn them)
The Parliament demands--and I must pay them,
Forsooth, for liberty to wear my head.

[Enter Tax-gatherers.

Collector. Three groats a head for all your family. Piers. Why is this money gather'd ? 't is a hard tax On the poor labourer! It can never be

That Government should thus distress the people.
Go to the rich for money-honest labour
Ought to enjoy its fruits.

Collector.

The state wants money,

War is expensive-'tis a glorious war,

A war of honour, and must be supported.—

Three groats a head.

Tyler.

There, three for my own head,

Three for my wife's; what will the state tax next?
Collector. You have a daughter.

Tyler. She is below the age-not yet fifteen.
Collector. You would evade the tax.

Tyler. Sir Officer, I have paid you fairly what the law demands. [Alice and her mother enter the shop. The Taxgatherers go to her. One of them lays hold of her. She screams.— -Tyler goes in.

Collector. You say she's under age.

[Alice screams again. Tyler knocks out the Taxgatherer's brains. His companions fly.

Piers. A just revenge.

Tyler. Most just indeed; but in the eye of the law 'Tis murder: and the murderer's lot is mine.

[Piers goes out—Tyler sits down mournfully. Alice. Fly, my dear father! let us leave this place Before they raise pursuit.

Tyler.

Nay, nay, my child,

Flight would be useless-I have done my duty :

I have punish'd the brute insolence of lust,
And here will wait my doom.

Wife.

My husband, my dear husband!

Alice.

Oh, let us fly,

Quit but this place,

And we may yet be safe, and happy too.

Tyler. It would be useless, Alice; 'twould but lengthen

A wretched life in fear.

[Cry without, Liberty, Liberty! Enter Mob, HOB CARTER, &c. crying Liberty! Liberty! No Poll-tax! No War!

Hob. We have broke our chains, we will arise in

anger,

The mighty multitude shall trample down

The handful that oppress them.

Tyler.

So soon then of my murder?

Hob.

Have ye

heard

Of your vengeance.

Piers ran throughout the village: told the news-Cried out, to arms !-arm, arm for liberty;

For Liberty and Justice!

Tyler.

My good friends, Heed well your danger, or be resolute ! Learn to laugh menaces and force to scorn, Or leave me. I dare answer the bold deedDeath must come once: return ye to your homes, Protect my wife and child, and on my grave Write why I died; perhaps the time may come, When honest Justice shall applaud the deed.

Hob. Nay, nay, we are oppress'd, and have too long