The streets stopped up with gazing multitudes:
Command our armed officers with halberds
Make way for entrance of the prisoners;
Let proclamation once again be made.
That every householder, on pain of death,
Keep in his prentices, and every man
Stand with a weapon ready at his door,
As he will answer to the contrary.

OFFICER.
I'll see it done, sir.

[Exit.]

[Enter another Officer.]

SHERIFF.
Bring them away to execution:
The writ is come above two hours since:
The city will be fined for this neglect.

OFFICER.
There's such a press and multitude at Newgate,
They cannot bring the carts onto the stairs,
To take the prisoners in.

SHERIFF.
Then let them come on foot;
We may not dally time with great command.