SPICING

Peace there you rogues, or I will split your chaps: P ace you clamorous rogues, on General on with poor Oration, peace there, Peace you rogues. Open your gates slaves when I command you, Spicing beats on the gates, and then enters the Lord Ma ior and his associates with prentices. Run rascal and fetch thy wife to our General pre sently, or else all the Gold in Cheapside cannot ransom her: wilt thou not stir when I bid thee. That the hels be rung backward, And cutting of throats be cried havoc, No more calling of lanthorn and candlelight, That maidenheads be valued at joust nothing: And Sack be sold by the Salad. That no piddling slave stand to pick a lock, but slash me off the hinges, as one would slit up a Cows paunch. Take me and Usurer by the gr Asia pouch, and shake out his Crowns, as a hungry dog would shake a Haggas, Bar foul play Rogues, and live by honest silching and stea ling, he that hath a true finger, let him aite his face to the fryingpan. Follow your Leader Rogues, follow your Leader. Open the gates, or if we be the picklocks, you Rogues weel play the Mastiff dogs amongst you: If I woorie not a thousand of you with my teeth, let me be hanged in a packethreed, and so forth. Weel talk more anon, good M. and so forth. Swounds scale rogues, scale, a Falconbridge, a Falconbridge. That he can find, let that lie in the bargain. Hearest thou General, theres hight drinking at the mouth of Bishopsgate, for our soldiers are all Mouth, they lie Like Rascals with their brains beaten out, therefore since we are all Like to feed h gs in Houndsditch, let us retire our troops, and save our maimed men, or if we issue further, we are put to the sword every mother's son of us. Why how now base Thomas? Swounds, Wertenberg thou a base Vial, thou art but a rascal and a rebel as I am, hea rest thou, if I do not turn true Sum ed and leave thee, let me be wooried with dogs, Swounds dost thou impeach my manhood? Tom Nevil thou hadst as good to have nnde thy self as uttered such a word, flatly I forsake thee, and all that love Ned Spicing follow me. Nay Tom, if thou wilt have me mount on the walls, And cast my self down headlong on their pikes, He do it, but to impeach my valour, Had any man but thou spoke half so much, I would have sp to his heart, still be beware My valour, such words go hardly down, Well, I am friends, thou thoughtest not as thou spokest. To Mileend Green, theres no fitter place. March fair you rogues, all kings or capknitters: dost thou hear Tom Falconbridge? I pre thee grant me one boon I shall ask thee. Why that when we have won the Cry, as we can not choose but win it, that I may have the knighting of all these rogues and rascals. What then? Zonnds I scorn your scurvy way mou worser, what then? now a poor take me it I fight a blow. Who, I knight any of them? I'll see them hanged first for a company of tattered ragged rascailes, if I were a king, I would not knight one of them? Yes, I care not if I knight thee: and yet isle see thee hanged ere isle honour thee so much: I care not so much for the matter, but I would not be denied my humour. Ho my sine Tom, my brave Falconbridge, my mad Greek, my lusty Nevil: thou art a king, a Caesar, a plague thee, I love thee not, and yet isle die with thee. How Like a troop of rank oreridden jades, You hu see bearded Citizens appear? The so and wards? now fair befall them, Would any one have thought before this hour, There had been such increase of muddy slaves? Peace soldsours, they are resolute you see, And not to sta us, nor favour them, Such haughty sto hs seldom have been seen, Embodied in the breasts of Citizens, How sternly in their own peculiar strength, Without the assistance of their lingering king, Did they of late repulse us from their walls? And now again how expeditiously, And unexpected they have met us here? Were we more deadly incensed then we are, I would not but commend their chivalry. Captain, shall we go challenge them to fight? Sbloud we burn daylight, theile think anon, We are afraid to see their glittering swords. But we shook your gates not long ago, And made your walls to shake Like yrish bogs. Etretera? are you there? me thinks the sighed of the Don Bull, the Neuels honoured crest, should make you leave your broken sentences, and quite forget ever to speak at all. Captain and fellow soldiers talk no more, But draw your meaning forth in down right blows. O brave Tom Nevil, gallant Falconbridge, Aim at thy intended policy, This is thy meaning, while thou art imploide, And holdest them battle here on Mileend Green, I must provide as harbinger before, There be not only clear and open passage, But the best merchants houses to receive Us and our retinue, I am proud of that, And will not sleep upon thy joust command. Come on my hearts, we will be kings to night, Carouse in Gold, and sleep with merchants wives, While their poor husbands lose their lives abroad, We are now quite behind our enemies backs, And theres no let or hindrance in the way, But we may take possession of the town, Ah you mad rogues, this is the wished hour, Follow your leader, and be resolute. Art thou the man whose victories drawn at sea, Filled cuerie heart with terror of thy name? Art thou that Nevil whom we took thee for? Thou art a louse, thou bastard Falconbridge? Thou baser then a bastard, in whose birth The very dregs of servitude appears, Why tell me, liver of some rotten sheep, After by thy allurements we are brought, To undertake this course, after thy promises Of many golden mountains to eusue, Is this the greatest comfort thou canst glu ? Hast thou insnarde our heedless feet with death, And brought us to the Jebbet of defame, And now dost bid us shift and save our selves? No craven were I sure I should be taken, I would not stir my feet, until this hand Had venged me on thee for misguiding us. O prejudice to Spicings conquering name, Whose valour even the hacks this sword has made Upon the flint, and iron bars at Aldgate: Like mouths will publish while the City stands That I shrunk back that I was never seen To show my manly spleen, but with a whip. I tell thee Falconbridge the least of these, Do challenge blood before they be appeased, By the pure temper of this sword of mine, By this true flesh and blood that gripes the same, And by the honour I did win of late, Against those frosty bearded Citizens, It shall be tried before we do depart, Whither accuseth other wrongfully, Or which of us two is the better man. This proclamation comes in happy time, I'll banquish Falconbridge, and with this sword Cut off his head, and bear it to the King, So not alone shall I be pardoned, But have the thousand crowns is promised. And I have vowed the Like by thee. How will these two bade contrary S agree? And what thou lottest me, shall be thy share. Why what art thou: I tell Thee miller thou hast been the means, To hinder the most charitable deed, What ever honest Christian undertook. Why thou mistakst, I am a true subsect. Dost thou accuse me? apprehend him too, For he's as guilty as any of us. It is indeed? I see you are not blind, you know me then. Out rogue, dost thou recant for fear of death? I Ma or, I am he that sought to cut your thrpate, And since I have miscarried in the fact, I'll near deny it, do the worst you can. Well sirrah, then thou must be my hangman? Well, commend me to little Pim, and pray her to re worser me my pande hose, they lie at the blue Boar for eleven pence, and if my hostess will have the other odd penny, tell her she is a damned bawd, and there is no truth in her score. There is a Constable sticks in my mind, he God my sword from me, that night I should have killed black Ralph, if I had ude, I would have been meet with him. Cemmend me to black Luce, bouncing Bess, & lusty ate, and the other pretty morsels of men flesh. Farewell Pink and Pinnace, libote, and Caruell, Turnbuil, and Spittle, I die Like a man. Peace you rogues, what are you quarreling? and now list to Captain Spicing. You know Cheapeside there are the Mercers shops, Where we will measure velvet by the pikes: And Silks and Sattens by the streets whole breadth: Weel take the Tankards from the Conduit cocks, To fill with Ip ras and drink carouse. Where chains of gold and plate shall be as plenty, As wooden dishes in the wild of Kenned: Let no man have less then a warehouse to his wardrobe: cry a fig for a Sergeant, and walk by the Counter Like a Lord, pluck out the clapper of Bow bell, and hang up all the Sextons in the City. H sirrah, you, clapp n, I, olt, Or e bolt you if I get in, stand you preaching with a poor? Hold drum and be hanged, You lie you rogue, 'tis to the Oration,