SCENE I.
The coast of Kent.
Alarm. Fight at sea1 note. Ordnance goes off. Enter captain Whitmore, and other pirates, with Suffolk, and other prisoners.
Cap.
2 noteThe gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day3 note
Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
And now loud-howling wolves arouse 4 note
the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night;
-- 378 --
Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings
Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
Therefore, bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.—
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;—
And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;—
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
[Pointing to Suffolk.
1 Gent.
What is my ransom, master? let me know.
Mast.
A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
Mate.
And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
Whit.
What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port of gentlemen?—
Cut both the villains' throats;—for die you shall;
5 noteNor can those lives which we have lost in fight,
Be counter-pois'd with such a petty sum.
1 Gent.
I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.
2 Gent.
And so will I, and write home for it straight.
Whit.
I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
And therefore, to revenge it, shalt thou die;
[To Suffolk.
And so should these, if I might have my will.
Cap.
Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
Suf.
6 noteLook on my George, I am a gentleman;
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.—
Whit.
And so am I; my name is—Walter Whitmore.
-- 379 --
How now? why start'st thou? what, doth death affright?
Suf.
Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
A cunning man did calculate my birth,
And told me—that by Water I should die7 note
:
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
Thy name is—Gualtier, being rightly sounded.
Whit.
Gualtier, or Walter, which it is, I care not:
Ne'er yet did base dishonour blur our name,
But with our sword we wip'd away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I fell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
Suf.
Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
The duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
Whit.
The duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags!
Suf.
Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke;
8 note
Jove sometime went disguis'd, And why not I?
Cap.
But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
Suf.
Obscure and 9 notelowly swain, king Henry's blood,
The honourable blood of Lancaster,
Must not be shed by such a jaded groom. 9Q0823
-- 380 --
Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand, and held my stirrop?
And bare-head plodded by my foot-cloth mule,
And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
How often hast thou waited at my cup,
Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board,
When I have feasted with queen Margaret?
Remember it, and let it make thee crest-fall'n;
Ay, and allay this thy 1 noteabortive pride:
How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood,
And duly waited for my coming forth?
This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.
Whit.
Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?
Cap.
First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
Suf.
Base slave! thy words are blunt, and so art thou.
Cap.
Convey him hence, and on our long boat's side
Strike off his head.
Suf.
2 note
Thou dar'st not for thine own.
Cap.
3 note
Poole? Sir Poole? lord?
Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt
Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
-- 381 --
Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth,
For swallowing the treasure of the realm:
Thy lips, that kiss'd the queen, shall sweep the ground;
And thou, that smil'dst at good duke Humphrey's death,
Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
Who, in contempt, shall hiss at thee again:
And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
For daring to affy4 note
a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
By devilish policy art thou grown great,
And, like ambitious Sylla, over-gorg'd
With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
By thee, Anjou and Maine were sold to France:
The false revolting Normans, thorough thee,
Disdain to call us lord; and Picardy
Hath slain their governors, surpriz'd our forts,
And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,—
Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,—
As hating thee, are rising up in arms:
And now the house of York—thrust from the crown,
By shameful murder of a guiltless king,
And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,—
Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colours
Advance our half-fac'd sun, striving to shine,
Under the which is writ—Invitis nubibus.
The commons here in Kent are up in arms:
And, to conclude, reproach, and beggary,
-- 382 --
Is crept into the palace of our king,
And all by thee:—Away! convey him hence.
Suf.
O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
Small things make base men proud: this villain here,
Being captain of a pinnace5 note, threatens more
6 note
Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.
Drones suck not eagles' blood, but rob bee-hives.
It is impossible, that I should die
By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
Thy words move rage, and not remorse, in me:
I go of message from the queen to France;
I charge thee, waft me safely cross the channel.
-- 383 --
Cap.
Walter,—
Wit.
Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
Suf.
Gelidus timor occupat artus7 note:—'tis thee I fear.
Whit.
Thou shalt have cause to fear, before I leave thee.
What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?
1 Gent.
My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.
Suf.
Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
Us'd to command, untaught to plead for favour.
Far be it, we should honour such as these
With humble suit: no, rather let my head
Stoop to the block, than these knees bow to any,
Save to the God of heaven, and to my king;
And sooner dance upon a bloody pole,
Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
True nobility is exempt from fear:—
More can I bear, than you dare execute.
Cap.
Hale him away, and let him talk no more:
Come, soldiers, shew what cruelty ye can8 note.—
Suf.
That this my death may never be forgot!—
Great men oft die by vile bezonians9 note
:
A Roman sworder1 note and banditto slave
-- 384 --
Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand2 note
Stabb'd Julius Cæsar; savage islanders,
3 note
Pompey the great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
[Exit Walter Whitmore, with Suffolk.
Cap.
And as for these whose ransom we have set,
It is our pleasure, one of them depart:—
Therefore come you with us, and let him go.
[Exit Captain, with all but the first Gentleman.
Re-enter Whitmore, with Suffolk's body.
Whit.
4 note
There let his head and lifeless body lie,
Until the queen his mistress bury it.
[Exit. Whit.
1 Gent.
O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
His body will I bear unto the king:
If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
So will the queen, that living held him dear.
[Exit.
-- 385 --
SCENE II.
Another part of Kent.
Enter George Bevis and John Holland.
Bevis.
Come, and get thee a sword5 note, though made
of a lath; they have been up these two days.
Hol.
They have the more need to sleep now then.
Bevis.
I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to
dress the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new
nap upon it.
Hol.
So he had need, for 'tis thread-bare. Well, I
say, it was never merry world in England, since gentlemen
came up.
Bevis.
O miserable age! Virtue is not regarded in
handycrafts-men.
Hol.
The nobility think scorn to go in leather
aprons.
Bevis.
Nay more, the king's council are no good
workmen.
Hol.
True; And yet it is said,—Labour in thy
vocation: which is as much to say as,—let the magistrates
be labouring men; and therefore should we
be magistrates.
Bevis.
Thou hast hit it: for there's no better sign
of a brave mind, than a hard hand.
Hol.
I see them! I see them! There's Best's son,
the tanner of Wingham.
Bevis.
He shall have the skins of our enemies, to
make dog's leather of.
Hol.
And Dick the butcher,—
Bevis.
Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's
throat cut like a calf.
-- 386 --
Hol.
And Smith the weaver:—
Bevis.
Argo, their thread of life is spun.
Hol.
Come, come, let's fall in with them.
Drum. Enter Cade, Dick the butcher, Smith the weaver, and a sawyer, with infinite numbers.
Cade.
We John Cade, so term'd of our supposed
father,—
Dick.
Or rather, of stealing 6 note
a cade of herrings.
[Aside.
Cade.
For 7 note
our enemies shall fall before us, inspired
with the spirit of putting down kings and princes.
—Command silence.
Dick.
Silence!
Cade.
My father was a Mortimer,—
Dick.
He was an honest man, and a good bricklayer.
[Aside.
Cade.
My mother a Plantagenet,—
Dick.
I knew her well, she was a midwife.
[Aside.
Cade.
My wife descended of the Lacies,—
Dick.
She was, indeed, a pedlar's daughter, and sold
many laces.
[Aside.
-- 387 --
Smith.
But, now of late, not able to travel with
her 8 notefurr'd pack, she washes bucks here at home.
[Aside.
Cade.
Therefore am I of an honourable house.
Dick.
Ay, by my faith: the field is honourable; and
there was he born, under a hedge; for his father had
never a house, but the cage.
[Aside.
Cade.
Valiant I am.
Smith.
'A must needs; for beggary is valiant.
[Aside.
Cade.
I am able to endure much.
Dick.
No question of that; for I have seen him
whipp'd three market days together.
[Aside.
Cade.
I fear neither sword nor fire.
Smith.
He need not fear the sword, for his coat is
of proof.
[Aside.
Dick.
But, methinks, he should stand in fear of fire,
being so often burnt i'the hand for stealing of sheep.
[Aside.
Cade.
Be brave then; for your captain is brave, and
vows reformation. There shall be, in England, seven
half-penny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hoop'd
pot shall have ten hoops9 note; and I will make it felony,
to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in common,
and in Cheapside shall my palfry go to grass.
And, when I am king, (as king I will be)—
All.
God save your majesty!
Cade.
I thank you, good people:—1 notethere shall
-- 388 --
be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score;
and I will apparel them all in one livery, that they
may agree like brothers, and worship me their lord.
Dick.
The first thing we do, let's kill all the
lawyers.
Cade.
Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable
thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb
should be made parchment? that parchment, being
scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say, the bee
stings: but I say, 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but
seal once to a thing, and I was never my own man
since. How now? who's there?
Enter some, bringing in the clerk of Chatham.
Smith.
The clerk of Chatham: he can write and
read, and cast accompt.
Cade.
O monstrous!
Smith.
We took him setting of boys copies.
Cade.
Here's a villain!
Smith.
H'as a book in his pocket, with red letters
in't.
Cade.
Nay, then he is a conjurer.
Dick.
Nay, he can make obligations, and write court-hand.
Cade.
I am sorry for't: the man is a proper man,
on mine honour; unless I find him guilty, he shall not
die.—Come hither, sirrah, I must examine thee:
What is thy name?
Clerk.
Emanuel.
Dick.
2 note
They use to write it on the top of letters;
—'Twill go hard with you.
-- 389 --
Cade.
Let me alone:—Dost thou use to write thy
name? or hast thou a mark to thyself, like an honest
plain-dealing man?
Clerk.
Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought
up, that I can write my name.
All.
He hath confess'd: away with him; he's a
villain, and a traitor.
Cade.
Away with him, I say: hang him with his
pen and inkhorn about his neck.
[Exit one with the Clerk.
Enter Michael.
Mich.
Where's our general?
Cade.
Here I am, thou particular fellow.
Mich.
Fly, fly, fly! sir Humphrey Stafford and his
brother, are hard by, with the king's forces.
Cade.
Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down:
He shall be encounter'd with a man as good as himself:
He is but a knight, is a'?
Mich.
No.
Cade.
To equal him, I will make myself a knight
presently; Rise up sir John Mortimer. Now have
at him. Is there any more of them that be knights?
Mich.
Ay, his brother.
Cade.
Then kneel down, Dick Butcher;
Rise up sir Dick Butcher. Now sound up the drum.
-- 390 --
Enter Sir Humphrey Stafford, and his Brother, with drum and soldiers.
Staf.
Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,
Mark'd for the gallows,—lay your weapons down,
Home to your cottages, forsake this groom;—
The king is merciful, if you revolt.
Y. Staf.
But angry, wrathful, and inclin'd to blood,
If you go forward: therefore yield, or die.
Cade.
As for these silken-coated slaves, 3 note
I pass not;
It is to you, good people, that I speak,
O'er whom, in time to come, I hope to reign;
For I am rightful heir unto the crown.
Staf.
Villain, thy father was a plaisterer;
And thou thyself, a shearman, Art thou not?
Cade.
And Adam was a gardener.
Y. Staf.
And what of that?
Cade.
Marry, this:—Edmund Mortimer, earl of March,
Married the duke of Clarence' daughter; Did he not?
Staf.
Ay, sir.
Cade.
By her he had two children at one birth.
Y. Staf.
That's false.
Cade.
Ay, there's the question; but, I say, 'tis true:
The elder of them, being put to nurse,
Was by a beggar-woman stol'n away;
And, ignorant of his birth and parentage,
Became a bricklayer, when he came to age:
His son am I; deny it, if you can.
Dick.
Nay, 'tis too true; therefore he shall be king.
Smith.
Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house,
and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it; therefore,
deny it not.
-- 391 --
Staf.
And will you credit this base drudge's words,
That speaks he knows not what?
All.
Ay, marry will we; therefore get you gone.
Y. Staf.
Jack Cade, the duke of York hath taught
you this.
Cade.
He lies, for I invented it myself. Aside.—
Go to, sirrah, Tell the king from me, that—for his
father's sake, Henry the fifth, in whose time boys
went to span-counter for French crowns,—I am content
he shall reign; but I'll be protector over him.
Dick.
And, furthermore, we'll have the lord Say's
head, for selling the dukedom of Maine.
Cade.
And good reason; for thereby is England
maim'd, and fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance
holds it up. Fellow kings, I tell you, that that
lord Say hath gelded the common-wealth, and made it
an eunuch: and more than that, he can speak French,
and therefore he is a traitor.
Staf.
O gross and miserable ignorance!
Cade.
Nay, answer, if you can: The Frenchmen
are our enemies: go to then, I ask but this; Can he,
that speaks with the tongue of an enemy, be a good
counsellor, or no?
All.
No, no; and therefore we'll have his head.
Y. Staf.
Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,
Assail them with the army of the king.
Staf.
Herald, away: and, throughout every town,
Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade;
That those, which fly before the battle ends,
May, even in their wives' and childrens' sight,
Be hang'd up for example at their doors:—
And you, that be the king's friends, follow me.
[Exeunt the two Staffords, with their train.
Cade.
And you, that love the commons, follow me.—
Now shew yourselves men, 'tis for liberty.
We will not leave one lord, one gentleman:
Spare none, but such as go in clouted shoon;
-- 392 --
For they are thrifty honest men, and such
As would (but that they dare not) take our parts.
Dick.
They are all in order; and march toward us.
Cade.
But then are we in order, when we are most
out of order. Come, march forward,
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Another part of the field. The parties fight, and both the Staffords are slain.
Re-enter Cade, and the rest.
Cade.
Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford?
Dick.
Here, sir.
Cade.
They fell before thee like sheep and oxen,
and thou behav'dst thyself as if thou hadst been in
thine own slaughter-house: therefore thus I will reward
thee,—The 4 note
Lent shall be as long again as it is;
and thou shalt have a licence to kill for a hundred
lacking one.
Dick.
I desire no more.
Cade.
And, to speak truth, thou deserv'st no less.
5 note
This monument of the victory will I bear; and the
bodies shall be dragg'd at my horse' heels, 'till I do
come to London, where we will have the mayor's
sword borne before us.
-- 393 --
Dick.
6 noteIf we mean to thrive and do good, break
open the gaols, and let out the prisoners.
Cade.
Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's
march towards London.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Black-Heath.
Enter king Henry with a supplication, and queen Margaret with Suffolk's head; the duke of Buckingham, and and the lord Say.
Q. Mar.
Oft have I heard—that grief softens the mind,
And makes it fearful and degenerate;
Think therefore on revenge, and cease to weep.
But who can cease to weep, and look on this?
Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast:
But where's the body that I should embrace?
Buck.
What answer makes your grace to the rebels' supplication?
K. Henry.
I'll send some holy bishop to entreat:
For God forbid, so many simple souls
Should perish by the sword! And I myself,
Rather than bloody war should cut them short,
Will parly with Jack Cade their general.—
But stay, I'll read it over once again.
Q. Mar.
Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely face
7 noteRul'd, like a wandering planet, over me;
And could it not enforce them to relent,
-- 394 --
That were unworthy to behold the same?
K. Henry.
Lord Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head.
Say.
Ay, but I hope, your highness shall have his.
K. Henry.
How now, madam?
Lamenting still, and mourning Suffolk's death?
I fear, my love, if that I had been dead,
Thou wouldest not have mourn'd so much for me.
Q. Mar.
No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee.
Enter a Messenger.
K. Henry.
How now! what news? why com'st thou in such haste?
Mes.
The rebels are in Southwark; Fly, my lord!
Jack Cade proclaims himself lord Mortimer,
Descended from the duke of Clarence' house;
And calls your grace usurper, openly,
And vows to crown himself in Westminster.
His army is a ragged multitude
Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless:
Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's death
Hath given them heart and courage to proceed:
All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,
They call—false caterpillars, and intend their death.
K. Henry.
O graceless men! they know not what they do.
Buck.
My gracious lord, 8 note
retire to Kenelworth,
Until a power be rais'd to put them down.
Q. Mar.
Ah! were the duke of Suffolk now alive,
These Kentish rebels should be soon appeas'd.
-- 395 --
K. Henry.
Lord Say, the traitor hateth thee,
Therefore away with us to Kenelworth.
Say.
So might your grace's person be in danger;
The sight of me is odious in their eyes:
And therefore in this city will I stay,
And live alone as secret as I may.
Enter another Messenger.
2 Mes.
Jack Cade hath gotten London-bridge;
The citizens fly him, and forsake their houses:
The rascal people, thirsting after prey,
Join with the traitor; and they jointly swear,
To spoil the city, and your royal court.
Buck.
Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse.
K. Henry.
Come, Margaret; God, our hope, will succour us.
Q. Mar.
My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceas'd.
K. Henry.
Farewel, my lord; trust not to Kentish rebels.
Buck.
Trust no body, for fear you be betray'd.
Say.
The trust I have is in mine innocence,
And therefore am I bold and resolute.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
London.
Enter lord Scales, and others, on the walls of the Tower. Then enter two or three Citizens below.
Scales.
How now? is Jack Cade slain?
1 Cit.
No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for they
have won the bridge, killing all those that withstand
them: The lord mayor craves aid of your honour from
the Tower, to defend the city from the rebels.
Scales.
Such aid as I can spare, you shall command;
But I am troubled here with them myself,
-- 396 --
The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower.
But get you into Smithfield, gather head,
And thither will I send you Matthew Gough:
Fight for your king, your country, and your lives;
And so farewel, for I must hence again.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Cannon-Street.
Enter Jack Cade, and the rest. He strikes his staff on London-stone.
Cade.
Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And
here, sitting upon London-stone, I charge and command,
that, of the city's cost, the pissing-conduit run
nothing but claret wine the first year of our reign.
And now, henceforward, it shall be treason for any that
calls me other than—lord Mortimer.
Enter a Soldier running.
Sol.
Jack Cade! Jack Cade!
Cade.
Knock him down there9 note.
[They kill him.
Smith.
If this fellow be wise, he'll never call you
Jack Cade more; I think, he hath a very fair warning.
Dick.
My lord, there's an army gather'd together
in Smithfield.
Cade.
Come then, let's go fight with them: But,
first, go and set London-bridge on fire; and, if you
can, burn down the Tower too. Come, let's away.
[Exeunt.
-- 397 --
SCENE VII.
Smithfield.
Alarum. Enter Jack Cade with his company. They fight with the king's forces, and Matthew Gough1 note is slain.
Cade.
So, sirs:—Now go some and pull down the
Savoy; others to the inns of court; down with them
all.
Dick.
I have a suit unto your lordship.
Cade.
Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that
word.
Dick.
Only, that the laws of England may come out
of your mouth2 note.
John.
Mass, 'twill be sore law then; for he was
thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole
yet.
[Aside.
Smith.
Nay, John, it will be stinking law; for his
breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.
[Aside.
Cade.
I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away,
burn all the records of the realm; my mouth shall
be the parliament of England.
John.
Then we are like to have biting statutes,
unless his teeth be pull'd out.
[Aside.
Cade.
And henceforward all things shall be in common.
-- 398 --
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
My lord, a prize, a prize! here's the lord
Say, which sold the town in France; he that made us
pay one and twenty fifteens, and one shilling to the
pound, the last subsidy.
Enter George Bevis, with the lord Say.
Cade.
Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times.—
Ah, 3 note
thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord!
now art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction
regal. What canst thou answer to my majesty, for
giving up of Normandy unto monsieur Basimecu 9Q0825, the
dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these
presence, even the presence of lord Mortimer, that I
am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such
filth as thou art. Thou hast most traiterously corrupted
the youth of the realm, in erecting a grammar-school:
and whereas, before, our fore-fathers had no
other books but the score and the tally, thou hast
caused 4 note
printing to be us'd; and, contrary to the
-- 399 --
king, his crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill.
It will be proved to thy face, that thou hast
men about thee, that usually talk of a noun, and a
verb; and such abominable words, as no christian ear
can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed justices
of peace, to call poor men before them about matters
they were not able to answer. 9Q0827 Moreover, thou
hast put them in prison; and, 5 notebecause they could not
read, thou hast hang'd them; when, indeed, only for
that cause they have been most worthy to live. Thou
dost ride on a foot-cloth, dost thou not6 note
?
Say.
What of that?
Cade.
Marry, thou ought'st not 7 noteto let thy horse
-- 400 --
wear a cloak, when honester men than thou go in
their hose and doublets.
Dick.
And work in their shirt too; as myself, for
example, that am a butcher.
Say.
You men of Kent,—
Dick.
What say you of Kent?
Say.
Nothing but this: 'Tis 8 note
bona terra, mala gens.
Cade.
Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin.
Say.
Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
Kent, in the commentaries Cæsar writ,
Is term'd the civil'st place of all this isle9 note:
Sweet is the country, because full of riches;
The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy;
Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.
I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy;
Yet, to recover them, would lose my life.
Justice with favour have I always done;
Prayers and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never.
1 note
When have I aught exacted at your hands?
-- 401 --
Kent to maintain, the king, the realm, and you,
Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks,
Because my book preferr'd me to the king:
And—seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,—
Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits,
You cannot but forbear to murder me.
This tongue hath parly'd unto foreign kings
For your behoof,—
Cade.
Tut! when struck'st thou one blow in the field?
Say.
Great men have reaching hands: oft have I struck
Those that I never saw, and struck them dead.
George.
O monstrous coward! what, to come behind folks!
Say.
These cheeks are pale with watching for your good.
Cade.
Give him a box o'the ear, and that will make 'em red again.
Say.
Long sitting to determine poor mens' causes
Hath made me full of sickness and diseases.
Cade.
Ye shall have a hempen caudle then, and the
help of a hatchet.
Dick.
Why dost thou quiver, man2 note
?
-- 402 --
Say.
The palsy, and not fear, provokes me?
Cade.
Nay, he nods at us; as who should say, I'll
be even with you. I'll see if his head will stand
steadier on a pole, or no: Take him away, and behead
him.
Say.
Tell me, wherein have I offended most?
Have I affected wealth, or honour; speak?
Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold?
Is my apparel sumptuous to behold?
Whom have I injur'd, that ye seek my death?
These hands are free from guiltless blood-shedding, 9Q0828
This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.
O, let me live!
Cade.
I feel remorse in myself with his words: but
I'll bridle it; he shall die, an it be but for pleading so
well for his life 3 note
. Away with him! he has a familiar
under his tongue4 note
; he speaks not o' God's name. Go,
take him away, I say, and strike off his head presently;
and then break into his son-in-law's house, Sir
James Cromer, and strike off his head, and bring
them both upon two poles hither.
All.
It shall be done.
Say.
Ah, countrymen! if when you make your prayers,
God should be so obdurate as yourselves,
-- 403 --
How would it fare with your departed souls?
And therefore yet relent, and save my life.
Cade.
Away with him, and do as I command ye.
[Exeunt some, with lord Say.
The proudest peer of the realm shall not wear a head
on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there shall
not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me her
maiden-head* note ere they have it: Men shall hold of me
in capite; and we charge and command, that their
wives be as free as heart can wish, or tongue can tell.
Dick.
My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside,
and take up commodities upon our bills5 note?
Cade.
Marry, presently.
All.
O brave!
Re-enter one with the heads.
Cade.
But is not this braver?—Let them kiss one
another6 note
; for they lov'd well, when they were alive.
Now part them again, lest they consult about the giving
up of some more towns in France. Soldiers, defer
the spoil of the city until night: for with these
borne before us, instead of maces, we will ride through
the streets; and, at every corner, have them kiss.—
Away!
[Exeunt.
-- 404 --
SCENE VIII.
Southwark.
Alarum, and retreat. Enter again Cade, and all his rabblement.
Cade.
Up Fish-street! down saint Magnus' corner!
kill and knock down! throw them into Thames!—
[A parley sounded.
What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold
to sound retreat or parley, when I command them
kill?
Enter Buckingham, and old Clifford, attended.
Buck.
Ay, here they be that dare, and will disturb thee:
Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the king
Unto the commons, whom thou hast mis-led;
And here pronounce free pardon to them all,
That will forsake thee, and go home in peace.
Clif.
What say ye, countrymen? will ye relent,
And yield to mercy, whilst 'tis offer'd you;
Or let a rabble lead you to your deaths?
Who loves the king, and will embrace his pardon,
Fling up his cap, and say—God save his majesty!
Who hateth him, and honours not his father,
Henry the fifth, that made all France to quake,
Shake he his weapon at us, and pass by.
All.
God save the king! God save the king!
Cade.
What, Buckingham, and Clifford, are ye so
brave?—And you, base peasants, do ye believe him?
will you needs be hang'd with your pardons about
your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke through
London gates, that you should leave me at the
White-hart in Southwark? I thought, ye would
never have given out these arms, 'till you had recover'd
-- 405 --
your ancient freedom: but you are all recreants,
and dastards; and delight to live in slavery to the nobility.
Let them break your backs with burdens,
take your houses over your heads, ravish your wives
and daughters before your faces: For me,—I will
make shift for one; and so—God's curse 'light upon
you all!
All.
We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade.
Clif.
Is Cade the son of Henry the fifth,
That thus you do exclaim—you'll go with him?
Will he conduct you through the heart of France,
And make the meanest of you earls and dukes?
Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to;
Nor knows he how to live, but by the spoil,
Unless by robbing of your friends, and us.
Wer't not a shame, that, whilst you live at jar,
The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,
Should make a start o'er seas, and vanquish you?
Methinks, already, in this civil broil,
I see them lording it in London streets,
Crying—Villageois! unto all they meet.
Better, ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry,
Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.
To France, to France, and get what you have lost;
Spare England, for it is your native coast:
7 noteHenry hath money, you are strong and manly;
God on our side, doubt not of victory.
All.
A Clifford! a Clifford! we'll follow the king,
and Clifford.
Cade.
Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro,
as this multitude? the name of Henry the fifth hales
-- 406 --
them to an hundred mischiefs, and makes them leave
me desolate. I see them lay their heads together, to
surprize me: my sword make way for me, for here
is no staying.—In despight of the devils and hell, have
through the very midst of you! and heavens and honour
be witness, that no want of resolution in me, but
only my followers' base and ignominous treasons,
makes me betake me to my heels.
[Exit.
Buck.
What, is he fled? go some, and follow him;
And he, that brings his head unto the king,
Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.—
[Exeunt some of them.
Follow me, soldiers; we'll devise a mean
To reconcile you all unto the king.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
Kenelworth castle.
Sound trumpets. Enter king Henry, queen Margaret, and Somerset, on the terras.
K. Henry.
Was ever king, that joy'd an earthly throne,
And could command no more content than I?
No sooner was I crept out of my cradle,
But I was made a king, at nine months old: 9Q0829
Was never subject long'd to be a king,
As I do long and wish to be a subject.
Enter Buckingham, and Clifford.
Buck.
Health, and glad tidings, to your majesty!
K. Henry.
Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surpriz'd?
Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?
-- 407 --
Enter below, multitudes with halters about their necks.
Clif.
He's fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield;
And humbly thus with halters on their necks
Expect you highness' doom, of life, or death.
K. Henry.
Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!—
Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives,
And shew'd how well you love your prince and country:
Continue still in this so good a mind,
And Henry, though he be infortunate,
Assure yourselves, will never be unkind:
And so, with thanks, and pardon to you all,
I do dismiss you to your several countries.
All.
God save the king! God save the king!
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Please it your grace to be advertised,
The duke of York is newly come from Ireland:
And with a puissant and a mighty power,
Of Gallow-glasses, and stout Kernes8 note,
Is marching 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.
K. Henry.
Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd;
Like to a ship, that, having 'scap'd a tempest,
9 note
Is straitway calm'd, and boarded with a pirate:
-- 408 --
But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd;
And now is York in arms, to second him.—
I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him;
And ask him, what's the reason of these arms.
Tell him, I'll send duke Edmund to the Tower;—
And, Somerset, we will commit thee thither,
Until his army be dismiss'd from him.
Som.
My lord,
I'll yield myself to prison willingly,
Or unto death, to do my country good.
K. Henry.
In any case be not too rough in terms;
For he is fierce, and cannot brook hard language.
Buck.
I will, my lord; and doubt not so to deal,
As all things shall redound unto your good.
K. Henry.
Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;
For yet may England curse my wretched reign.
[Exeunt.
-- 409 --
SCENE X.
A garden in Kent1 note
.
Enter Jack Cade.
Cade.
Fie on ambition! fie 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 lay'd 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, 2 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.
-- 410 --
Enter Iden, with Servants.
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 entering his fee-simple without leave.
Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand
crowns of the king for 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 saucy terms?
Cade.
Brave thee? ay, 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 all 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;
-- 411 --
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.
3 note
As for more words 9Q0831, whose greatness answers words,
Let this my sword report what speech forbears.
Cade.
By my valour, the most complete champion
that ever I heard.—Steel, if thou turn the 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 turn'd to hobnails.
[Here they fight.
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 dead4 note
: 9Q0832
Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point;
But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,
-- 412 --
To emblaze the honour that 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.
[Dies.
Iden.
5 noteHow 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.
-- 413 --
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
