ACTON

Now master Murley, I am well assure You know our arrant, and do Like the cause, Being a man affected as we are? You know our faction now is grown so great, Throughout the realm; that it begins to smoke Into the Clergies eyes, and the Kings ears, High time it is that we were drawn to head, Our general and officers appointed. And wars you wot will ask great store of coin. Able to strength our Actium with your purse, You are elected for a colonel Over a regiment of fifteen bans. Why who but he shall be our General? My word for that, sir William Murley knight. There are of us, our friends, and followers, Three thousand and three hundred at the least, Of northern lads four thousand, beside horse, From Kenned there comes with sir John Oldcastle Seven thousand, then from London issue out, Of masters, servants, strangers, prentices Forty odd thousands into Ficket field, Where we appoint our special rendezvous. Behind saint Giles in the field near Holbo ne. On friday next the fourteenth day of January. Five hundredth man? five thousand's not enough, A hundredth thousand will not pay our men Two months together, either come prepared Like a brave Knight, and martial Colonel, In glittering gold, and gallant furniture, Bringing in coin, a cart load at the least, And all your followers mounted on good horse, Or never come disgraceful to us all. See what Ambition may persuade men to, In hope of honour he will spend himself. Thats no fault in Brewers nowadays: Come, away about our business. exeunt. Now 'tis too late to have it remedied, I prithee Murley do not urge me with it. All friends, good fellow. Why thus you show your self a Gentleman, To keep your day, and come so well prepared, Your cart stands yonder, guarded by your men, Who tell me it is loaded well with come, What sum is there? Gilded spurs? 'tis well. Dispersed in sundry villages about, Some here with us in Hygate, some at Finchley, Totnam, Enfield, Edmunton, Newington, Islington, Hogsdon, Pancredge, Kenzington, Some nearer Thames, Ratcliffe, Blackwall and Bow, But our chief strength must be the Londoners, Which ere the Sun to morrow shin , Will be never fifty thousand in the field. No, he's secure at Eltham. Fear extremely, yet prepare no force. This night we few in Higate will repose, With the first cock weel rise and arm our selves, To be in Ficket field by break of day, And there expect our General. Talk not of trifles, come lets away, Our friends of London long till it be day. exeunt. Pardon my Lord, my conscience urged me to it, We looked my Lord that he would meet us here. Such letters we received forth of Kenned. To clear my conscience ere I die my lord, I must confess, we have no other ground But only Rumor, to accuse this lord, Which now I see was merely fabulous.