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 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, will we ride through the streets; and, at every corner, have them kiss.-Away! [Exeunt. SCENE VIII. Southwark. 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. And here pronounce free pardon to them all, home in peace. 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 free dom 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? I see them lording it in London streets, Better, ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry, 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 Buck. What, is he fled? go some, and follow him; [Exeunt some of them. Follow me, soldiers; we'll devise a mean [Exeunt. SCENE IX. Kenelworth Castle. Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGaret, and SOMERSET, on the Terrace of the Castle. K. Hen. Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne, No sooner was I crept out of my cradle, Enter BUCKINGHAM and CLifford. K. Hen. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor, Cade, surpris'd? Or is he but retired 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; K. Hen. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates, And Henry, though he be infortunate, Mess. Please it your grace to be advertised, The duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor. K. Hen. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd; [4] These were two orders of foot-soldiers among the Irish. STEEVENS. Like to a ship, that, having 'scap'd a tempest, I pray thee, Buckingham, go forth and meet him; Som. My lord, I'll yield myself to prison willingly, 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. SCENE X. Kent. IDEN's Garden, Enter CADE. Cade. Fye on ambition! fye 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 I am 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 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-pans 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, [5] A corruption from the French salut, taken, I suppose, from the scripturel phrase, the helmet of salvation. Brain-pan, for skull, occurs, I think, in Wickliff's translation of Judges xix, 53. WHALLEY Contenteth me, and is worth a monarchy. 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? 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, Thy leg a stick, compared with this truncheon; Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth. As for more words, whose greatness answers words," Cade. By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard.-Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not the burly-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 [6] For more words, whose pomp and tumour may answer words, and only words, I shall forbear them, and refer the rest to my sword. JOHNSON. VOL. IV. 22 |