“King.
Was ever king enjoy'd an earthly throne,
And could command no more content than I?
Was ever subject long'd to be a king,
As I do long and wish to be a subject? Enter Old Clifford.
Heath and good tidings to your majesty!”

“King.
Why, Clifford, is the traitor Cade surprized?

“Old Cliff.
He's fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield,
And humbly now, with halters on their necks,
Expect your highness' doom of life and death.”

“King.
Then, Heav'n set ope thine everlasting gates
To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!” “Enter Buckingham with letters.

“Buck.
Please it your grace, these letters will proclaim

That Cade is slain—a brave esquire of Kent
Surprised him lurking in his garden—fought
Him hand to hand, and in fair combat killed him,
This is not all—the noble Duke of York
Is with a puissant and mighty power,
Advancing hitherward in proud array;
And still proclaimeth, as he comes along,
His arms are only to remove from thee
The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.

“King.
I pray thee, Clifford, go and meet with him,
And ask him what's the reason of these arms.
Somerset—we must commit thee to the Tower
Until his army be dismissed from him.

“Som.
My lord, I'll yield myself a prisoner,
Or unto death, to do my country good.

“King.
Oh! let not England curse my wretched reign!” [Exeunt.

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