Cade.

Fie on ambitions; fy on myself, that have a sword, and yet am ready to famish. These five days have I hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for all the country is laid for me; but now am I so hungry, that if I might have a lease of my life for a thousand years, I could stay no longer; wherefore

on a brick-wall have I climb'd into this garden to see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot weather. And, I think, this word sallet was born to do me good; for many a time, ^{3 note}but for a sallet, my brain-pan had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time when I have been dry, and bravely marching, it hath serv'd me instead of a quart-pot to drink in; and now the word sallet must serve me to feed on.

Iden.
Lord! who would live turmoiled in the Court,
And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
This small inheritance my father left me,
Contenteth me, and's worth a monarchy.
I seek not to wax great by others' waining,
Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy;
Sufficeth, that I have maintains my state,
And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.

Cade.

Here's the Lord of the soil come to seize me for a stray, for entring his fee-simple without leave. Ah villain, thou wilt betray me and get a thousand crowns of the King by carrying my head to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like an ostridge, and swallow my sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part.

Iden.
Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be,
I know thee not; why then should I betray thee?
Is't not enough to break into my garden,
And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds,
Climbing my walls in spight of me the owner,
But thou wilt brave me with these sawcy terms?

Cade.

Brave thee? by the best blood that ever was broach'd, and beard thee too. Look on me well, I have eat no meat these five days, yet come thou and

thy five men, and if I do not leave you as dead as a door-nail, I pray God, I may never eat grass more.

Iden.
Nay, it shall ne'er be said while England stands,
That Alexander Iden an Esquire of Kent,
Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
Oppose thy stedfast gazing eyes to mine,
See, if thou canst out-face me with thy looks;
Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser;
Thy hand is but a finger to my fist;
Thy leg a stick, compared with this truncheon,
My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast;
And if mine arm be heaved in the air,
Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.
^{4 note}

Cade.

By my valour, the most compleat champion that ever I heard. Steel, if thou turn thine edge, or cut not out the burly-bon'd Clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech Jove on my knees thou may'st be turned into hobnails.

O I am slain! famine, and no other, hath slain me; let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have lost, and I'd defy them all. Wither garden, and be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in this house; because the unconquer'd soul of Cade is fled.

Iden.
Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed,
And hang thee o'er my tomb, when I am dead.
Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,
But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,
T' emblaze the honour which thy master got.

Cade.

Iden, farewel, and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from me, she hath lost her best man; and exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, that never fear'd any, am vanquish'd by famine, not by valour.

Iden.
^{5 note}How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge!
Die damned wretch, the Curse of her that bare thee:
And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
^{6 note}So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell.
Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave;
And there cut off thy most ungracious head,
Which I will bear in triumph to the King,
Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. [Exit.

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