_Geo._ Now, by my father's soul, Were good King Edward's horses in the corn, They shall amend the scath, or kiss the pound; Much more yours, sir, whatsoe'er you be. _Ken._ Why, man, thou knowest not us: We do belong to Henry Momford, Earl of Kendal; Men that, before a month be full expir'd, Will be King Edward's betters in the land. _Geo._ King Edward's betters! Rebel, thou liest! [_Strikes him._ _Bon._ Villain, what hast thou done? thou hast struck an earl. _Geo._ Why, what care I? a poor man that is true, Is better than an earl, if he be false. Traitors reap no better favours at my hands. _Ken._ Ay, so methinks; but thou shalt dear aby[307] this blow.-- Now or never lay hold on the Pinner! _All the train comes forward._ _Geo._ Stay, my lords, let us parley on these broils: Not Hercules against two, the proverb is, Nor I against so great a multitude.-- [_Aside_]. Had not your troops come marching as they did, I would have stopt your passage unto London: But now I'll fly to secret policy. _Ken._ What dost thou murmur, George? _Geo._ Marry, this, my lord; I muse, If thou be Henry Momford, Kendal's earl, That thou wilt do poor George-a-Greene this wrong, Ever to match me with a troop of men. _Ken_ Why dost thou strike me, then? _Geo._ Why, my lord, measure me but by yourself: Had you a man had serv'd you long, And heard your foe misuse you behind your back, And would not draw his sword in your defence, You would cashier him. Much more, King Edward is my king: And before I'll hear him so wrong'd, I'll die within this place, And maintain good whatsoever I have said. And, if I speak not reason in this case, What I have said I'll maintain in this place. _Bon._ A pardon, my lord, for this Pinner; For, trust me, he speaketh like a man of worth. _Ken._ Well, George, wilt thou leave Wakefield and wend with me, I'll freely put up all and pardon thee. _Geo._ Ay, my lord, considering me one thing, You will leave these arms, and follow your good king. _Ken._ Why, George, I rise not against King Edward, But for the poor that is oppress'd by wrong; And, if King Edward will redress the same, I will not offer him disparagement, But otherwise; and so let this suffice. Thou hear'st the reason why I rise in arms: Now, wilt thou leave Wakefield and wend with me, I'll make thee captain of a hardy band, And, when I have my will, dub thee a knight. _Geo._ Why, my lord, have you any hope to win? _Ken._ Why, there is a prophecy doth say, That King James and I shall meet at London, And make the king vail bonnet to us both. _Geo._ If this were true, my lord, this were a mighty reason. _Ken._ Why, it is a miraculous prophecy, and cannot fail.