KING. I marvel much, my lords, what rage it is That moves my people, whom I love so dear, Under a show of quarrel good and just, To rise against us thus in mutinies, With threat'ning force against our state and us: But if it be, as we are given to know By letters and by credible report, A little spark hath kindled all this fire, Which must be quench'd with circumspect regard, Before we feel the violence of the flame. Meanwhile, sweet lady mother, be content, And think their malice shall not injure you; For we have tools to crop and cut them off, Ere they presume to touch our royal self, And thus resolve, that you secure shall be, What hard mishap soever fall to me. _Enter_ MESSENGER. MES. Health and good hap befall your Majesty! USHER. My lord, here is a messenger from Kent, That craves access unto your Majesty. KING. Admit him near, for we will hear him speak: 'Tis hard, when 'twixt the people and the king Such terms of threats and parlies must be had! Would any gentleman or man of worth Be seen in such a cause, without offence Both to his God, his country, and his prince, Except he were enforced thereunto? QUEEN. I cannot think so good a gentleman As is that knight, Sir John Morton I mean, Would entertain so base and vile a thought: Nor can it sink into my woman's head That, were it not for fear or policy, So true a bird would file so fair a nest; But here he comes. O, so my longing mind Desires to know the tidings he doth bring. _Enter_ SIR JOHN MORTON. MOR. The Commons of Kent salute your Majesty, And I am made their unhappy messenger: My lord, a crew of rebels are in field, And they have made commotions late in Kent, And drawn your people to a mutiny; And if your grace see not to it in time, Your land will come to ruin by their means. Yet may your grace find remedy in time, To qualify their pride, that thus presume. BISHOP. Who are the captains of this rebel rout, That thus do rise 'gainst their anointed king? What, be they men of any worth, or no? If men of worth, I cannot choose but pity them. MOR. No, my good lord, They be men of no great account, for they Be none but tilers, thatchers, millers, and such like, That in their lives did never come in field, Before this mutiny did call them forth; And for security of my back-return, Upon this message which I showed the king, They keep my wife and children for a pledge, And hold me out from forth my castle at Rochester, And swore me there to come unto your Majesty; And, having told you their minds, I hope your grace will pardon me for all: In that I am enforced thereunto. KING. How many men have they assembled in the field?