Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
King. King.
King. What tumult's this?
Warw. Warw.
Warw. An Vprore, I dare warrant,
Warw. Begun through malice of the Bishops men.
Warw. A noyse againe, Stones, Stones.
Warw. Enter Maior.
Maior. Maior.
Maior. Oh my good Lords, and vertuous Henry,
Maior. Pitty the Citie of London, pitty vs:
Maior. The Bishop, and the Duke of Glosters men,
Maior. Forbidden late to carry any Weapon,
Maior. Haue fill'd their Pockets full of peeble stones;
Maior. And banding themselues in contrary parts,
Maior. Doe pelt so fast at one anothers Pate,
Maior. That many haue their giddy braynes knockt out:
Maior. Our Windowes are broke downe in euery street,
Maior. And we, for feare, compell'd to shut our Shops.
Maior. Enter in skirmish with bloody Pates.