Murder of Simon Sudbury
Archbishop Simon Sudbury is dragged from the Tower of London by Wat Tyler's peasant rebels during the Peasants' Revolt, then beheaded on Tower Hill amidst chaotic crowd violence.
Setting
Tower Hill, outside the Tower of London, a broad open space used for public executions, surrounded by a chaotic crowd of peasants and rebels. The Tower looms in the background, its imposing stone walls a stark contrast to the frenzied activity below.
Characters
Simon Sudbury
primary
An elderly man in his late 60s, with a gaunt face marked by deep wrinkles and a prominent nose. His once well-groomed white hair is now disheveled, and his thin frame trembles with fear. His pale blue eyes are wide with terror, and his lips quiver uncontrollably.
Wat Tyler
primary
A rugged and imposing man in his late 30s, with a muscular build and sun-weathered skin. His dark hair is tousled and streaked with grey, framing a face marked by deep lines of hardship and determination. His piercing eyes burn with righteous fury, and his jaw is set in defiance.
Rebel Peasant
secondary
A burly man in his late 30s with sun-weathered skin and calloused hands, his face contorted with rage. His unkempt brown hair is matted with sweat, and his muscular frame shows years of hard labor in the fields.
Tower Guard
secondary
A middle-aged man with a weathered face, broad shoulders, and a muscular build from years of military service. His short-cropped hair is streaked with grey, and his eyes are wide with fear. A fresh bruise is forming on his cheek from the earlier scuffle.
Town Crier
background
A middle-aged man of average height with a wiry build, his face weathered from years of outdoor work. His thinning brown hair is tousled from the chaos, and his sharp eyes dart around, taking in the scene with a mix of fear and fascination.
Dialog
Simon Sudbury
Miserere mei, Domine! Good people, I beg you—spare me! I am but a servant of God!
Wat Tyler
A servant of God who taxes the bread from our children's mouths! To the block with him!
Rebel Peasant
Aye, let the crow-feeder taste the axe! By the blighted crops, we'll have justice this day!
Simon Sudbury
In manus tuas, Domine... Oh, sweet Christ, must it be this way?
Wat Tyler
The same way our babes starve while your coffers swell! Strike now!
Rebel Peasant
Hear that, priest? The only bell tolling for you is the axe's ring!
Simon Sudbury
God forgive you all... God forgive—