CROWD. A Wyatt! a Wyatt! Forward!

KNYVETT. Wyatt, shall we proclaim Elizabeth?

WYATT. I'll think upon it, Knyvett.

KNYVETT. Or Lady Jane?

WYATT. No, poor soul; no.
Ah, gray old castle of Alington, green field
Beside the brimming Medway, it may chance
That I shall never look upon you more.

KNYVETT. Come, now, you're sonnetting again.

WYATT. Not I.
I'll have my head set higher in the state;
Or--if the Lord God will it--on the stake.

[_Exeunt_.



SCENE II.--GUILDHALL.

SIR THOMAS WHITE (The Lord Mayor), LORD WILLIAM HOWARD, SIR RALPH
BAGENHALL, ALDERMEN _and_ CITIZENS.


WHITE. I trust the Queen comes hither with her guards.