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 ^note worth a monarchy.
I seek not to wax great by others' waning ^note,
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. ^note Ah, ^note villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand ^note crowns of the king by carrying my head to him: but I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, 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 spite of me the owner, ^note
But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?

Cade.

Brave thee! ay, ^note by the best blood that ever was broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat no meat these five days; yet, come thou and thy five men ^note, and if I do not leave you all ^note 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 ^note of Kent,
Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
Oppose thy steadfast-gazing ^note eyes to mine,
See if thou canst outface 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.
As for words ^note, whose greatness answers words, ^note
Let this my sword report what ^note speech forbears.

Cade.

By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge ^note, or cut not out the burly-boned clown in chines ^note of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God ^note on my knees thou mayst be turned to 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'ld defy them all. Wither, garden; and be henceforth a burying-place to all that do dwell in this house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

Iden.
Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
Sword, I will hallow thee ^note 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,
To emblaze the honour that ^note thy master got.

Cade.

Iden, farewell, 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 feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour.

Iden.
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 ^note with my sword,

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 ^note thy most ungracious head;
Which I will bear in triumph to the king,
Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. [Exit. ^note

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