Outbreak of the Peasants' Revolt
In the market square of Brentwood, a group of peasants led by Wat Tyler and John Ball confront the royal tax collector, demanding an end to oppressive taxes and feudal injustices. The atmosphere is ch
Setting
The market square of Brentwood, a bustling rural town in Essex. The square is surrounded by timber-framed buildings with thatched roofs, and the ground is packed earth worn smooth by years of foot traffic. A stone well stands at the center, surrounded by market stalls selling goods.
Characters
Wat Tyler
primary
A rugged man of about 35 years, with the weathered face and strong arms of a laborer turned rebel leader. His dark hair is cropped short, and his beard is unkempt. A deep scar runs from his left temple to cheekbone—a mark from past conflicts. His intense brown eyes burn with conviction.
John Ball
primary
A gaunt man in his late 40s with sunken cheeks and piercing gray eyes that burn with righteous fervor. His long, unkempt brown hair is streaked with gray, and his beard is roughly trimmed. His hands are calloused from years of manual labor before taking holy orders, and his frame is wiry but strong from years of travel and preaching.
Royal Tax Collector
secondary
A middle-aged man with a pinched face and receding hairline, his portly frame suggesting a life of relative comfort compared to the peasants he taxes. His small, darting eyes betray both greed and fear, and his jowls quiver as he speaks. His hands are soft and uncalloused, adorned with a signet ring marking his office.
Peasant Woman
secondary
A middle-aged woman with a wiry frame, her face weathered by years of labor in the fields. Her hands are rough and calloused, and her dark hair is streaked with gray, loosely tied back under a simple linen coif. Her cheeks are flushed with exertion and anger.
Guardsman
background
A young soldier in his early twenties, lean and wiry from years of basic training but lacking battlefield experience. His sunburnt face bears a fresh scar across his left cheekbone, and his brown eyes dart nervously between the advancing crowd and his superior. His hands visibly tremble as they grip his spear, knuckles whitening.
Dialog
Wat Tyler
By the blood we've shed in these fields, we'll not pay another penny to fatten the king's purse!
John Ball
I say unto you, brethren, when Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman? The earth is common to all, as the scriptures teach!
Royal Tax Collector
Per ordinem regis... you must... you must render unto Caesar what is Caesar's!
Wat Tyler
Does the king think we're oxen to be yoked? We'll break these chains or die trying!
John Ball
The Lord hears the cry of the poor! Strike down these unjust laws as David smote Goliath!
Royal Tax Collector
Mercy, good people! I am but a humble servant of the crown!
Wat Tyler
Humble? You who take the bread from our children's mouths? To London, brothers! To London we march!