As the king finished speaking, Wat Tyler, casting his eyes around him, spied a squire attached to the king’s person, bearing his sword. Tyler mortally hated this squire: formerly they had had words together when the squire ill-treated him. “What! art thou here?” cried Tyler. “Give me thy dagger.”--“I will not,” said the squire: “why should I give it thee?” The king, turning to him, said, “Give it him, give it him;” which he did, though much against his will. When Tyler took it he began to play with it, and turn it about in his hand, and, again addressing the squire, said, “Give me that sword.”--“I will not,” replied the squire; “for it is the king’s sword, and thou art not worthy to bear it who art but a mechanic; and if only thou and I were together thou wouldst not have dared to say what thou hast, for as large a heap of gold as this church.”--“By my troth,” answered Tyler, “I will not eat this day before I have thy head.” At these words the mayor of London, with about twelve more, rode forward, armed under their robes, and, pushing through the crowd, saw Tyler’s manner of behaving; upon which he said, “Scoundrel, how dare you thus behave in the presence of the king, and utter such words? It is too impudent for such as thou.” The king then began to be enraged, and said to the mayor, “Lay hands on him.” While the king was giving this order, Tyler had addressed the mayor, saying, “Hey! in God’s name, what I have said, does it concern thee? What dost thou mean?”--“Truly,” replied the mayor, who found himself supported by the king, “does it become such a stinking rascal as thou art to use such speech in the presence of the king, thy natural lord? I will not live a day if thou pay not for it.” Upon this he drew a kind of cimeter he wore, and struck Tyler such a blow on the head as felled him to his horse’s feet. When he was down he was surrounded on all sides, so that his men could not see him; and one of the king’s squires, called John Standwich, immediately leaped from his horse, and, drawing a handsome sword which he bore, thrust it into his belly, and thus killed him. His men, advancing, saw their leader dead, when they cried out, “They have killed our captain: let us march to them, and slay the whole.” On these words they drew up in a sort of battle-array, each man having his bent bow before him. The king certainly hazarded much by this action, but it turned out fortunate; for, when Tyler was on the ground, he left his attendants, ordering not one to follow him. He rode up to these rebellious fellows, who were advancing to revenge their leader’s death, and said to them, “Gentlemen, what are you about? You shall have no other captain but me: I am your king; remain peaceable.” When the greater part of them heard these words, they were quite ashamed, and those inclined to peace began to slip away. The riotous ones kept their ground, and showed symptoms of mischief, and as if they were resolved to do something.