SCENE changes to Smithfield.

Alarum. Matthew Goff is flain, and all the ref. Then enter Jack Cade with his company.

Cade.

O, Sirs: Now go fome and pull down the
Savoy others to the inns of courts, down

with them all.

Dick. I have a fuit unto your Lordship.

Cade. Be it a Lordship, thou fhalt have it for that word. Dick. Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.

John. Mafs, 'twill be fore law then, for he was thrust in the mouth with a fpear, and ''tis not whole yet.

Smith. Nay, John, it will be flinking law, for his breath flinks with eating toafted cheese.

Cade. I have thought upon it, it fhall be fo. Away, burn all the records of the realm; my mouth shall be the parliament of England.

John. Then we are like to have biting ftatutes, unless his teeth be pull'd out.

Cade. And henceforward all things fhall be in com

mon.

Enter a Messenger.

Mef. My Lord, a prize, a prize! here's the Lord Say which fold the town in France; he that made us pay one and twenty fifteens and one fhilling to the pound, the laft fubfidy.

Enter George with the Lord Say.

Cade. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah, thou Say, thou ferge, nay, thou buckram Lord, now art thou within point blank of our jurifdiction regal. What canft thou answer to my Majefty for giving up of Normandy unto Monfieur Bafimecu, the Dauphin of France? be it known unto thee by these prefents, even the prefence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the befom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art: thou haft moft traiterously corrupted the youth of the Realm

in erecting a grammar-fchool; and whereas before, our fore-fathers had no other books but the fcore and the tally, thou haft caufed printing to be us'd; and contrary to the King, his crown and dignity, thou haft built a paper-mill. It will be prov'd to thy face that thou haft men about thee, that ufually talk of a Noun and a Verb, and fuch abominable words, as no chriftian ear can endure to hear. Thou haft appointed juftices of the peace to call poor men before them, about matters they were not able to anfwer. Moreover, thou haft put them in prifon; and because they could not read, thou haft hang'd them; when, indeed, only for that cause they have been moft worthy to live. Thou doft ride on a foot-cloth, doft thou not?

Say. What of that?

Cade. Marry, thou ought'ft not to let thy horfe 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 fay you of Kent?

Say. Nothing but this: 'Tis 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 Cæfar writ,

Is term'd the civil'ft place of all this ifle;
Sweet is the country, because full of riches,
The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy,
Which makes me hope thou art not void of pity.
I fold not Maine; I loft not Normandy 3
Yet, to recover them, would lose my life:
Juftice with favour have I always done;
Prayers and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never
When have I aught exacted at your hands?
Kent to maintain, the King, the realm and you,
Large gifts have I beftow'd on learned clerks ;
Because my book preferr'd me to the King:
And feeing, ignorance is the curfe of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heav'n,
D 4

Unles

Unless you be poffeft with dev'lish spirits,
Ye cannot but forbear to murther me :
This tongue hath parlied unto foreign Kings
For your behoof.

Cade. Tut, when ftruck'st thou one blow in the field? Say. Great men have reaching hands; oft have I ftruck Those that I never faw, and ftruck them dead.

George. O monftrous coward! what, to come behind folks?

Say. Thefe cheeks are pale with watching for your good.

Cade. Give him a box o' th' ear, and that will make 'em red again.

Say. Long fitting to determine poor mens' Caufes Hath made me full of fickness and diseases.

Cade. Ye fhall have a hempen caudle then, and the help of a hatchet.

Dick. Why doft thou quiver, man ?

Say. The palfie, and not fear, provokes me.

Cade. Nay, he nods at us, as who fhould fay, I'll be even with you. I'll fee, if his head will stand steadier on a pole or no take him away, and behead him.

Say. Tell me, wherein have I offended molt?
Have I affected wealth or honour? fpeak.
Are my chefts fill'd up with extorted gold?
Is my apparel fumptuous to behold?

Whom have I injur'd, that ye feek my death?
Thefe hands are free from guiltless blood-fhedding;
'This breast from harb'ring foul deceitful thoughts.
O, let me live!

Cade. I feel remorfe in myself with his words; but I'll bridle it; he fhall die, an it be but for pleading fo 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 fay, and ftrike off his head presently; and then break into his fon-in-law's house, Sir James Cromer, and ftrike off his head, and bring them Both upon two poles

hither.

All. It fhall be done.

Say. Ah,Country-men, if when you make your pray'rs,

God

God fhould be fo obdurate as yourselves,
How would it fare with your departed fouls?
And therefore yet relent, and fave: my life.

Cade. Away with him, and do as I comm and ye the proudest Peer of the Realm shall not wear a head on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there fhall not a maid be married, but she shall pay me her maidenhead ere they have it; men fhall 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 fhall we go to Cheapfide, and take up commodities upon our bills! Cade. Marry, presently.

All. O brave!

Enter one with the heads.

Cade. But is not this braver? Let them kifs one ano ther; for they lov'd well when they were alive: Now part them again, left they confult about the giving up of fome more towns in France. Soldiers, defer the fpoil 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 kifs. Away. [Excunt.

SCENE changes to Southwark.

Alarum, and Retreat. Enter again Cade, and all his

Cade UP

Rabblement.

P Fish-treet, down St. Magnus' Corner, kill and knock down; throw them into Thames.. [A Parley founded

What noife is this I hear?

Dare any be fo bold to found 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 Ambaffadors from the King
Unto the Commons, whom thou hast mis-led;

DS

And

And here pronounce free pardon to them All,
That will forfake thee, and go home in peace.
Clif. What fay ye, Country-men, will ye relent,
And yield to mercy, whilft '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 fay, God fave his Majefty!
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 fave the King! God fave the King!

Cade. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye fo brave? and you, bafe peasants, do ye believe 'em? will you needs be hang'd with your pardons about your necks? hath my fword therefore broke through London' gates, that you fhould leave me at the White-bart in Southwark? I thought, you would never have given out these arms, till you had recovered your ancient Freedom: but you are all recreants and daftards, and delight to live in flavery to the Nobility. Let them break your backs with burthens, take your houfes over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one, and fo God's curfe light upon you all!

All. We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade.
Clif. Is Cade the fon 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 meaneft 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.
Were't not a fhame, that, whilft you live at jar,
The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,
Should make a ftart o'er feas, and vanquish you?
Methinks, already in this civil broil

I fee them lording it in London streets,
Crying, Villageois! unto all they meet.
Better, ten thousand bafe-born Cades miscarry;
Than you fhould stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.
To France, to France, and get what you have loft;

Spare