MAYOR. My gracious lord, this honourable grace, So far above desert (sith what I did, My duty and allegiance bad me do), Binds me and my successors evermore With sweet encouragement to th' like attempt. Your majesty and all your royal peers Shall find your London such a storehouse still, As not alone you shall command our wealth, But loyal hearts, the treasure of a prince, Shall grow like grains sown in a fertile soil, And God I praise, that with his holy hand Hath given me heart to free my prince and land. KING. Then sith these dangerous broils are overpass'd With shedding of so little English blood. 'Tis for the fame and honour of a prince Well to reward the actors of the same. So many of thy brethren as accompanied thee, In Smithfield here about this bold attempt, When time shall serve, I'll knight them as thou art. And so Lord Mayor, Newton, Morton, and the rest, Accompany us to guard us to the tower, Where we'll repose, and rest ourselves all night. FINIS. FOOTNOTES: [452] [Serious.] [453] [Who give up themselves for killed. Old copy has, _killed who lie in conceit_.] [454] [Pursued.] Transcriber's Notes: Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors were corrected. Punctuation normalized. Archaic, colloquial, and non-standard spellings retained as printed. Italics markup is enclosed in _underscores_. Greek text is transliterated and enclosed in ®registration signs®. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Select Collection of Old English Plays; Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the Year 1744; Fourth Edition, by Various