Dick. Why dost thou quiver, man?

Say. The palsy, and not fear, provoketh 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 I have 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 seek my death? These hands are free from guiltless blood-shedding, This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts. O, let me live!

ye

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. Away with him! he has a familiar under his tongue; 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, 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 in 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 maidenhead 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 bills? Cade. Marry, presently.

All. O brave!

Re-enter Rebels, with the heads of LORD SAY and his Son-in-law.

Cade. But is not this braver? · Let them kiss one another, for they loved 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, will we ride through the streets; and, at every corner, have them kiss. Away! [Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter CADE, and all his Rabblement. Cade. Up Fish-street! down Saint Magnus' corner! kill and knock down! throw them into Thames! [A parley sounded, then a retreat.] 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, with Forces. 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 misled;
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 hanged 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 recovered 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 soGod'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:
Henry 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 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 reso lution in me, but only my followers' base and igno minious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels

No sooner was I crept out of my cradle,
But I was made a king, at nine months old:
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. Hen. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surpriz'd?

Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?

Enter, below, a great number of CADE's Followers, 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 your highness' doom, of life, or death.
K. Hen. 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 show'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.

Mess. 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 Gallowglasses, and stout Kernes,
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. Hen. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and
York distress'd;

Like to a ship, that having 'scap'd a tempest,
Is straightway calm'd and boarded with a pirate.
But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd;
And now is York in arms to second him.

--

I pray thee, Buckingham, go forth 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 willingiy,
Or unto death, to do my country good.

K. Hen. 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. Hen. Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern
better;

For yet may England curse my wretched reign.

[Exeunt.

my life for a thousand years, I could stay no longer. Wherefore, on a brick-wall have I climbed 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, 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 served me instead of a quart-pot to drink in; And now the word sallet must serve me to feed on.

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 is worth a monarchy. I seek not to wax great by others' waning; 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 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, But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?

Cade. Brave thee? ay, 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, 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 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 more words, 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 burley-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees, thou mayest be turned to hobnails. [They fight. CADE falls.] 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 unconquered 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;

And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:
Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright;
To entertain great England's lawful king.

Ah, sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear?
Let them obey, that know not how to rule;
This hand was made to handle nought but gold:
I cannot give due action to my words,
Except a sword, or scepter, balance it.
A scepter shall it have, have I a soul;

On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.

York. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
Buck. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
York. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my

powers. Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves; Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field, You shall have pay, and every thing you wish. And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, Command eldest my son, nay, all my sons, As pledges of my fealty and love, I'll send them all as willing as I live; Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have Is his to use, so Somerset may die.

Buck. York, I commend this kind submission: We twain will go into his highness' tent. Enter KING HENRY, attended.

K. Hen. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm

to us,

That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm ?
York. In all submission and humility,

York doth present himself unto your highness.
K. Hen. Then what intend these forces thou dost
bring?

York. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence; And fight against that monstrous rebel, Cade, Who since I heard to be discomfited.

Enter IDEN, with CADE's head.

Iden. If one so rude, and of so mean condition, May pass into the presence of a king, Lo, I present your grace a traitor's head, The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.

K. Hen. The head of Cade? - Great God, how just art thou!

O, let me view his visage being dead,

That living wrought me such exceeding trouble. Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew

him?

Iden. I was, an't like your majesty.

K. Hen. How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree?

Iden. Alexander Iden, that's my name;

A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king.
Buck. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss
He were created knight for his good service.
K. Hen. Iden, kneel down; [He knezis.] Rise
up a knight.

We give thee for reward a thousand marks;
And will, that thou henceforth attend on us.

Iden. May en live to merit such a bounty,
And never live but true unto his liege!

K. Hen. See, Buckingham! Somerect comes with the queen;

Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke.

Enter QUEEN MARGARET and SOMERSET.

Q. Mun. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,

But boldly stand, and front him to his face.
Yonk. How now! Is Somerset at liberty?
Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd thoughts,
And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?
False king! why hast thou broken faith with me,
Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
King did I call thee? no, thou art not king; .
Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
Which dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
That head of thine doth not become a crown;
Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
And not to grace an awful princely scepter.
That gold must round engirt these brows of mine;
Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,
Is able with the change to kill and cure.
Here is a hand to hold a scepter up,
And with the same to act controlling laws.
Give place; by heaven, thou shalt rule no more
O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.

Som. O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York, Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown : Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.

York. Would'st have me kneel? first let me ask
of these,

If they can brook I bow a knee to man. —
Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail;

[Erit an Attendant. I know, ere they will have me go to ward, They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement. Q. Mar. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain, [Exit BUCKINGHAM, To say, if that the bastard boys of York Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

York. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan, Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge! The sons of York, thy betters in their birth, Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those That for my surety will refuse the boys.

Enter EDWARD and RICHARD PLANTAGENET, with Forces, at one side; at the other, with Forces also, Old CLIFFORD and his Son.

See, where they come; I'll warrant they'll make it good.

Q. Mar. And here comes Clifford, to deny their bail.

Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the king' [Kneels.

York. I thank thee, Clifford: Say, what news
with thee?

Nay, do not fright us with an angry look :
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.

Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
But thou mistak'st me much, to think I do : —
To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?
K. Hen. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious

humour

Makes him oppose himself against his king.
Clif. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,

And chop away that factious pate of his.

Q. Mar. He is arrested, but will not obey; His sons, he shall give their words for him. says, York. Will you not, sons?

Edw. Ay, noble fauter, if our words wiì serve.

Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons sball.

Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!
York. Look in a glass, and call thy image so,
I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor. -
Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
That, with the very shaking of their chains,
They may astonish these fell lurking curs;
Bid Salisbury, and Warwick, come to me.
Drums.

Enter WARWICK and SALISBURY, with
Forces.

Clif. Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death,

And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.
Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur
Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs, and cry'd.
And such a piece of service will you do,
If you oppose yourselves to match lord Warwick.
Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!

York. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn
yourselves.

X. Hen. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?

Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!
What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
If it be banish'd from the frosty head,
Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
And shame thine honourable age with blood?
Why art thou old, and want'st experience?
Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me,
That bows unto the grave with mickle age.

-

Sal. My lord, I have consider'd with myself The title of this most renowned duke; And in my conscience do repute his grace The rightful heir to England's royal seat. K. Hen. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?

Sal. I have.

K. Hen. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?

Sal. It is great sin, to swear unto a sin;
But greater sin, to keep a sinful oath.
Who can be bound by any solemn vow
To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,
To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
And have no other reason for this wrong,
But that he was bound by a solemn oath?

Q. Mar. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.
K. Hen. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm
himself.

York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,

i am resolv'd for death, or dignity.

Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true. War. You were best to go to bed, and dream again, To keep thee from the tempest of the field. Clif. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm.

Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's
crest,

The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
(As on a mountain-top the cedar shows,
That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,)
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear,
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Despight the bearward that protects the bear.
Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father,
To quell the rebels, and their 'complices.

Rich. Fye! charity, for shame! speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.

Y. Clif. Foul stigmatick, that's more than thou

canst tell.

Rich. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell. [Exeunt severally.

Alarums: Excursions. Enter WARWICK.
War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls!
And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarm,
And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, -
Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me!
Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
Enter YORK.

How now, my noble lord? what all a-foot?
York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed;
But match to match I have encounter'd him,
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.

But that 'tis shown ignobly, and in treason.

York. So let it help me now against thy sword, As I in justice and true right express it!

Clif. My soul and body on the action both! — York. A dreadful lay! address thee instantly. [They fight, and CLIFFORD falls. Clif. La fin couronne les oeuvres. [Dies. York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.

Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! [Erit.

Enter Young CLIFFORD,

Y. Clif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout; Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds

Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance! - Let no soldier fly:
He that is truly dedicate to war,

Hath no self-love; nor he, that loves himself,
Hath not essentially, but by circumstance,
The name of valour. O, let the vile world end,
[Seeing his dead father.
And the premised flames of the last day
Knit earth and heaven together!
Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
Particularities and petty sounds

To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
The silver livery of advised age;
And, in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus
To die in ruffian battle? - Even at this sight,
My heart is turn'd to stone: and, while 'tis mine,
It shall be stony. York not our old men spares :
No more will I their babes: tears virginal
Shall be to me even as the dew to fire;
And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,
Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
Henceforth, I will not have to do with pity:
Meet I an infant of the house of York,
Into as many gobbets will I cut it,
As wild Medea young Absyrtus did:
In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house;
[Taking up the body.

As did Æneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
But then Æneas bare a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.

Eru.

Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET and SOMERSET, fighting, and SOMERSET is killed.

-

Rich. So, lie thou there; For, underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset Hath made the wizard famous in his death. Sword, hold thy temper: heart, be wrathful still. Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. [Exit. Alarums: Excursions. Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, and others, retreating.

Q. Mar. Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away!

K. Hen. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.

Q. Mar. What are you made of? you'll not fight, nor fly :

Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,
To give the enemy way; and to secure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly.

[Alarum afar off.

If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
Of all our fortunes: but if we haply scape,
(As well we may, if not through your neglect,)
We shall to London get; where you are lov'd;
And where this breach, now in our fortunes made,
May readily be stopp'd.