human
I tell you, from Lincolnshire to Sussex the country is like dry timber ready to ignite at a spark.
gpt
Ay, come next Whitsunday, please God, the lords will know who are the real masters.
human
The land will not groan under so many sheriffs.
gpt
And not so many lawyers will cumber the ground.
human
Ah, my men, have a care, have a care, broke in Annys,
gpt
Well, they have had their day long enough,
human
Hast got big Ben and his men to join us?
gpt
Well, was the answer,
human
I left him swaying this way and that like a tree that yet needs the last stroke to fall.
gpt
Let us look to it, then, that the last stroke be not put in by the other side,
human
Who will go to Kent and see that all is in readiness for the march on the gaol? There must be no half-hearted ones there.
gpt
To go to Kent now is to clap one's head into the Archbishop's noose, replied a Kentish man.
human
Ball's boast that he would be set free by hundreds of men marching from afar hath made even the sheriffs look alive.
gpt
I will go,
human
No russet priest may show his face near Canterbury.
gpt
Then shall I go disguised as a minstrel, and men shall know me by my songs.
human
And get a broken pate for thy pains,
gpt
Oh, the cause must not suffer for want of a broken pate or two,