FALCONBRIDGE

Hold drum, True hearted English and our valiant friends, De are countrymen, I publicly proclaim, If any wronged discontented English, Touched with true faeling of King Hens wrongs, Henry the rt the lawful King of England, Who by that tyrant Edward the usurper, Is held a wretched prisoner in the Lower, If any man that feign would be enfranchisde, From the sad yoke of orkrsh servitude, Under which w toil Like naked Gallislaues, Know he that Thomas Nevil the Lord Falconbridridge: Pit king King Henries poor distressed case, Armed with his title, and a subjects zeal, Takes up joust arm S against the house of Yorks: And do proclaim our ancient liberty: We do not rise Like Tiler, Cade, and Straw, Blewbeard, & other of that rascal rout, Bascly Like Linkers, or such mnddle anes, For mending measures, or the price of corn, Or for some common in the wild of Kenned, Thats by some greedy Cormorant enclosed: But in the true and ancient lawful right, Of the redoubted bouse of Lancaster. Our blood is noble, by our birth a Nevil, And by our lawful line Lord Falconbridge, Whose here thats of so dull a leaden temper, That is not fired with a Nevils name? And more, a blessing by the word proposoe, To those that aid a true anointed King, Courage brave spirits and cry a Falconbridge, We will be Master's of the mint our selves, And set our own stamp on the golden coin: Weel shoe our neighing coursers with no worse Then the purest S iver that is sold in Cheap. At Leaden hall weel fell pearls by the peck, As now the mealemen use to fell their meal: In Westminster weel keep a solemn court, And built it bigger to receive our men, Cry Falconbridge my hearts liberty, Bravely resolved, so m rch we forward all, And boldly say, good luck shall us be all. Summon the City, and command our entrance, Which if we shall be stubbornly denied, Our power shall rush Like thunder through the walls, I tell thee Mawr, and know he tells Thee so, That comes armed in a Kings defence, That I crave entrance in Kings He es name, In right of the true line of Lancaster, Me thinks that word spoke from a Ne ls mouth Should Like and earthquake rend your chained gates, And tear in pieces your port ullcises, I thunder it again into you ears, You stout and brave courageous London rs, In Henries name I crave my entrance in. I tell thee traitor then that u bearest thy Against thy true undoubted King. Whats he that answers us thus saucil What not that Shore that hath the Dam e wife, Shores wife, the flower of London for her beauty. Shore listen me, thy wise is mine thats flat, This night in thine own house she sleeps with me, Now Crosebie Lord Mayor shall we enter in? No Croseby shall I not: then doting Lord, I cra e the name of rebel down thy throat, Theres not the poorest rascal of my camp, But if he chance to meet thee in Cheapside Upon thy footcloath, he shall make thee light, And hold his stirrup while he mount thy horse, Then lackey him which way he please to go, Crosebie le make the Citizens be glad, To send thee and the Aldermen thy brothers, All m nicled, and chainde Like Galley slanes, To ransom them, and to redeem the City. Spoken Like a man, and true Velvet acket, And we will enter or strike by the way. Why this it is to trust to these base Rogues. This dirty scun of rascal esanirie: This hartles rout of base rascality; A plague upon you all, you cowardly Rogues; You crauand curs, you S y muddy clowns, Whose courage but consists in multitude, Like sheep and eat that follow one another, Which if one run away, all follow after: This hedge-bred rascal, this filthy fry of ditches, A vengeance take you all, this t'is to led you, Now do you cry and shriek at every shock, A hight consuming mischief follow you. Now if you be true hearted Englishmen, The gat'es set open and the portcullise up: Lets Pel Mell in, to stop their passage out, He that first enters, be possessed of Cheap, I give him it freely, and the chiefest wench. Art thou that villain in whose damned mouth, Was never herd of any word but wounds? Whose r rcant limbs are nought with gaping scars, Thicker then any carking craft-mans score, Whose very skalpe is scratched and crazed and broken, Like and old mazzer beaten on the stones, And standest thou now to save our maimed men? A plague upon thee coward. Come come ye testic S le, thou seest me gréende, Yet canst not bear with mine infirmity, Thou knowest I hold thee for as tall a man As any lines or breathes our English ay e, I know there lives not a more fiery spirit, A more resolved daliant, a plague upon it, Thou knowest I love Thee, yet if a word escape y lips in anger, how tasty then thou art? I had rather all men left me then thy self, Thou art my soul, thou art my Genius: I cannot live without thee not and hour, Thus must I still be forced against my will, To sooth this durtic slave, this cowardly rascal. Come, come be friends, you tasty firebrand, We must retire there is no remedy. No on my soul, thou thinkest not that I did, Found a retreat there I command you strait, But whither shall we retire Then let us back retire to Mil and Green, And there expect fresh succour from our friends, With such supply as shall ere long assure The Citic is our own, march on, away. What then? Why this is fine, go to, knight whom thou wilt: Why what a perverse fellow art thou Ned? Soft give me leave, I will devise with words, To weaken and abash their fortitude, Away with this parentheses of words, Crosby courage thy men, and on this green, Whose cause is right, let it be quickly seen. This was well fought, now Spicing list to me. The Citizens thus having given us ground, And therefore somewhat daunted, take a band Of Essex soldiers, and with all the speed Thou possibly canst make, withdraw thy self, And get between the City gates and them. Away then I will follow as I may, And doubt not but that ours will be the day. Opprobrious villain, stable excrement, That never dreamest of other manhood yet, But how to jerk a horse, until my words Insusde into thee resolutions sire. Controlst thou me for that wherein thy self, Art only the occasion of mishap? Hadst thou and they stood to it as well as I, The day had been our own, and London now, That laughs in triumph, should have wept in tears, But being backed by such faint hearted slaves No marualle if the Lion go to wrack, As though it were not incident to Kings, Sometime to take repulse, mine is no more: Nor is not for that muddy brain of thine To tutor me how to digest my lose, Then fly with those that are already fled, Or stay behind, and hang all but the head. Away you scoundrel, tempt not my resolve, The courage that sur es in Falconbridge, Scorns the encounter of so base a drudge. I shall but quit the Hangman of a labour, Yet rather then to be pbraided thus, The Eagle once will stoop to feed on tarrion. This rascal was ordainde to save my life, For now when I have overthrown the wretch, Even with his head le yield me to the King, His princely word is passed to pardon me, And though I were the chief in this rebellion, Yet this will be a means to make my peace. How sayest thou Spi. wilt thou yield thy self? For I have vowed either alive or dead To bring thee to King Edward? Come sir, isle quickly c worser you of that care. Why sir Harry Moorton have you arraignde, Condcnmde, and brought me to this place, Of bloody execution, and now ask, If I be guilty, therein does appear, What justice you have used, call you this law? How charitable you would seem to : I fear anon yowl say it is for love, You bind me thus, and bring me to the block, And that of mere affcaion you are moude To cut my head off, cunning policy: Such butchers as your selves never want, A colour to excuse your slaughterous minds. Hear me sir Harry, since we must dispute. I make no question of it, I must die, But let me tell you how I scorn your threats, So little do I reckon of the name Of ugly death, as were he bisible, I'lde wrestle with him for the victory, And tug the slave, and tear him with my tooth, But I would make him stoop to Falconbridge, And for this life, this paltry brittle life, This blast of wind which you have labourde foe, By juries, sessions, and I know not what, To rob me off, is of so vile repute: That to attain that I might live mine age, I would not give the valve of a point, You cannot be so cruel to afflict, But I will been as forward to endure. What King? He is no King of mine, he does usurp, And if the destinies had given me leave, I would have told him so before this time, And pulled the Diadem from off his head. I am no traitor, Lancaster is King, If that be treason to defend his right, What is't for them that do imprison him? If insurrection to advance his sceptre, What fault is theirs that step into his throne? O God, thou pouredst the balm upon his head, Can that pure unction be wipte off again? Thou once didst crown him in his insancie, Shall wicked men now in his age depose him? O pardon me, if I expostulate, More then becomes a sinful man to do, England I fear thou wilt thy folly rue. Indeed the end of all kingdoms must end, Honour and riches, all must have and end. And he that thinks he does the most preu le, His head once laid, there rests but a tale: Come fellow, do thy office, what me thinks, Thou lookest as if thy heart were in thy hose, Pull up thy spirits, it will be quickly done, A blow or two at most will serve the turn. Forgive Thee? I and give thoe too, Hold, there is some few crowns for Thee to drink, Tush weep not man, give losers' leave to plain, And yet faith my lose I count a gain, First let me see, is thy are sharp enough, I am indifferent, well a Gods name to this gear, Gently sayest thou: thou wilt not use me so: But all is one for that, what strength hast thou, Throughout the whole proportion of thy limbs, Keuoke it all into thy manly arms, And spare me not, I am a Gentleman, A Nevil and a Falconbridge beside, Then do thy work, thou mayest get credit by it, For if thou dost not, I must tell thee plain, I shall be passing angry when 'tis done. Why now thou pleasest me, England farewell And old Plantagenet, if thou survive, Think on my love, although it did not thrive. Our quarrel Like our self is honourable, The law our warrant. He that will have releasement for a King: I Nevell the Lord Falconbridge. Who can endure to be so vrauce by boys? Yet stand we in the sighed of v carded Troy, And suck the air she draws: our erie breath Flies from our nostrils warm unto the walls, We beard her bristling spires, her battled towers, And proudly stand and g e her in the sace, Look on me, and I doubt not you imagine, My worth as great as any one of yours, My Fortune's, would I basely fawn on Edward, To be as fair as any men in England, But he that keeps your sovereign in the Tower, Hath sea de my land, and robbed me of my right: I am a Gentleman as well as he, What he hath God, he bolds by tyranny, Now if you faint, or cowardly should fly, There is no hope for any one to live, We hear the Londoners will leave the City, And bid us battle here on ilcend Green, Whom if we vanquish, then we take the town, And ride in triumph thorough Cheap to Pauls, The Mint is ours, Cheap, Lombard street our own The meanest soldier wealthier then a king. What is it Ned: its hard I should deny thee. Crosby. Be patient, give me leave I say to speak, I doubt not but the traitors name shall rest With those that keeps their lawful K. in bonds: Mean time you men of London once again, Behold my warlike colours are displayed, Which I have vowed shall never be wrapped up, Until your lofty buildings kiss our feet, Unless you grant me passagethrough your streets. Why then upon your bodies will I tread, And wade through standing pools of your lost blood. Found then alarm.