MORE. Look, what you do offend you cry upon, That is, the peace: not one of you here present, Had there such fellows lived when you were babes, That could have topped the peace, as now you would, The peace wherein you have till now grown up Had been ta’en from you, and the bloody times Could not have brought you to the state of men. Alas, poor things, what is it you have got, Although we grant you get the thing you seek? GEORGE. Marry, the removing of the strangers, which cannot choose but much advantage the poor handicrafts of the city. MORE. Grant them removed, and grant that this your noise Hath chid down all the majesty of England; Imagine that you see the wretched strangers, Their babies at their backs and their poor luggage, Plodding to th’ ports and costs for transportation, And that you sit as kings in your desires, Authority quite silent by your brawl, And you in ruff of your opinions clothed; What had you got? I’ll tell you: you had taught How insolence and strong hand should prevail, How order should be quelled; and by this pattern Not one of you should live an aged man, For other ruffians, as their fancies wrought, With self same hand, self reasons, and self right, Would shark on you, and men like ravenous fishes Would feed on one another. DOLL. Before God, that’s as true as the Gospel. LINCOLN. Nay, this is a sound fellow, I tell you: let’s mark him. MORE. Let me set up before your thoughts, good friends, On supposition; which if you will mark, You shall perceive how horrible a shape Your innovation bears: first, tis a sin Which oft the apostle did forewarn us of, Urging obedience to authority; And twere no error, if I told you all, You were in arms against your God himself. ALL. Marry, God forbid that!