Mile End meeting
King Richard II meets with the leaders of the Peasants' Revolt at Mile End in an attempt to negotiate their demands for fair treatment and an end to serfdom. The air is thick with tension as the peasa
Setting
Mile End, an open field on the outskirts of London. The area is surrounded by scattered thatched cottages and the distant spires of the city. A makeshift dais has been erected for the king's party, while the peasants gather in a loose semicircle.
Characters
Wat Tyler
primary
A rugged, middle-aged man with a wiry build, sun-weathered skin, and a thick beard streaked with grey. His dark eyes burn with intensity, and a prominent scar crosses his left cheekbone, a testament to past conflicts.
King Richard II
primary
A youthful monarch of 14 years, slight in build with a pale complexion and bright blue eyes that betray both intelligence and anxiety. His golden hair is neatly trimmed, framing a face that appears both regal and boyish.
Royal Guard
secondary
A tall, broad-shouldered man in his early 30s with a weathered face and close-cropped brown beard. His steel-blue eyes constantly scan the crowd, and his right hand grips the hilt of his sword with white-knuckled intensity. A faded scar runs from his left temple to his jawline, evidence of past service.
Peasant Woman
secondary
A robust woman in her late 30s with sun-weathered skin and rough hands from years of labor. Her dark hair is tied loosely under a frayed linen coif, with strands escaping around her face. She stands with the defiant posture of someone accustomed to hardship.
Priest
background
A middle-aged clergyman with a gaunt face and thinning brown hair, hunched slightly from years of study and prayer. His eyes are sharp but weary, and his hands are clasped tightly together.
Dialog
Wat Tyler
We till the fields yet starve while ye feast, sire! By the blood wrung from our backs, no more!
King Richard II
Our lords report serfs shirk duties and skip payments. Such... disorder cannot stand.
Peasant Woman
Disorder? Chains make orderly men mad, your grace! When babes wail empty-bellied - that's your order!
Wat Tyler
Hear their cries, my lord. The harvest rots in barns while taxmen take the seed corn.
King Richard II
We... I shall consider these grievances. But disband now lest worse befall you.
Peasant Woman
Worse? What's worse than watching children wither like blighted wheat?
Wat Tyler
Mark me, sire - folk pushed past fearing make poor subjects.