Execution of Robert Hales
A furious mob of peasants storms the Tower of London, capturing Robert Hales, the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord High Treasurer. They drag him to the courtyard, where he is summarily beheaded in a
Setting
Outer courtyard of the Tower of London, near the Traitor's Gate. The cobblestone ground is uneven, stained with dirt and occasional patches of dried blood. The imposing stone walls loom overhead, their battlements lined with archers who have abandoned their posts.
Characters
Robert Hales
primary
A gaunt man in his late 50s with thinning gray hair and deep-set, weary eyes. His long face bears the pallor of someone who has spent too many hours indoors poring over ledgers. Despite his high station, his frame appears frail beneath his robes, with bony hands that tremble slightly.
Rebel Leader
primary
A rugged man in his late 30s with a wiry but strong build, his face weathered from years of labor under the sun. His dark brown hair is unkempt, streaked with premature gray, and his piercing green eyes burn with righteous fury. A jagged scar runs from his left temple to his jawline, a testament to past conflicts.
Angry Peasant
secondary
A gaunt man in his late 30s with sunken cheeks and a wiry frame, his face weathered by years of hard labor. His knuckles are swollen and scarred from farm work, and his left eye twitches with nervous energy. Dark circles under his eyes speak of sleepless nights.
Tower Guard
secondary
A middle-aged man of sturdy build, standing around 5 feet 10 inches tall with weathered skin and a close-cropped brown beard streaked with grey. His hands are calloused from years of wielding weapons, and a faded scar runs diagonally across his left cheekbone.
Priest
background
A middle-aged clergyman with a gaunt face and deep-set eyes that reflect years of spiritual contemplation. His thin frame is slightly stooped from hours spent in prayer and study. His hands, raised in supplication, are bony with prominent veins, and his short-cropped grey hair is partially covered by his clerical headgear.
Dialog
Rebel Leader
Behold the harvest of thy greed, Hales! The sickle falls upon the golden wheat ye stole from Christ's own poor!
Robert Hales
Good Christian people—I beg thee remember—'tis treason to strike God's anointed!
Angry Peasant
God's anointed? Nay! God sees how ye taxed the breath from our children's lungs!
Rebel Leader
The blood-price is paid in full this day—every penny ye squeezed from starving babes shall drown thee!
Robert Hales
In manus tuas, Domine...
Angry Peasant
No Latin prayers! Let 'im squeal like our pigs when the taxman came!
Rebel Leader
To the block! Let London see how the mighty fall when the commons rise!