Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. *K. Hen. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, *Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! * O, beat away the busy meddling fiend,

That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, * And from his bosom purge this black despair! 'War. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin.

*Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably. *K. Hen. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!

'Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.'He dies, and makes no sign; O God, forgive him! 'War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life. K. Hen. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. 'Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close; 'And let us all to meditation. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I-Kent. The sea-shore near Dover. Firing heard at sea. Then enter from a boat, a Captain, a Master, a Master's Mate, Walter Whitmore, and others; with them Suffolk, and other Gentlemen, prisoners.

Cap. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorsefull day * Is crept into the bosom of the sea;

* And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades * That drag the tragic melancholy night;

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, [Pointing to Suff.] Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

'1 Gent. What is my ransom, master? let me

yours.

* Cap. 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; *The lives of those which we have lost in fight, *Cannot be counterpois'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. Suff. Look 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.

How now? why start'st thou? what, doth death affright?

(1) Pitiful. (2) A low fellow.
(3) Pride that has had birth too soon.

Suff. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.

A cunning man did calculate my birth,
And told me-that by Water I should die:
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 sell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
[Lays hold on Suffolk.

'Suff. Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,

The duke of Suffolk, William de la Poole. 'Whit. The duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags! Suff. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke; Jove sometime went disguis'd, and why not I? Cap. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. Suff. Obscure and lowly swain, king Henry's blood,

The honourable blood of Lancaster,

Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.2 Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand, and held my stirrup? Bare-headed 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 abortive pride :3 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?

Poole? sir Poole? lord? Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt Troubles the silver spring where England drinks. 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 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, overgorg'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, surpris'd our forts, * And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. *The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,

(4) To betroth in marriage.

John. They have the more need to sleep now

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, *Is crept into the palace of our king, *And all by thee:-Away! convey him hence. *Suff. 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 pinnace, threatens more '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: go of from the message queen to France; 'I charge thee, waft me safely cross the channel. Cap. Walter,

'Whit. Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.

*Suff. Gelidus timor occupat artus:-'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.

'Suff. 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.

Capt. Hale him away, and let him talk no more. Suff. Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can, That this my death may never be forgot! 'Great men oft die by vile bezonians:2 A Roman sworder and banditto slave, 'Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand Stabb'd Julius Cæsar; savage islanders, 'Pompey the great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.

[Exeunt Suff with Whit. and others. Capt. 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.

[Exeunt all but the first Gentleman. Re-enter Whitmore, with Suffolk's body. 'Whit. There let his head and lifeless body lie, Until the queen his mistress bury it.

(Exit.

aprons.

*Geo. Nay more, the king's council are no good * workmen.

John. 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.

*Geo. Thou hast hit it: for there's no better sign * of a brave mind, than a hard hand.

*

*John. I see them! I see them! There's Best's son, the tanner of Wingham;

*Geo. He shall have the skins of our enemies, *to make dog's leather of.

John. And Dick the butcher,

* Geo. Then is sin struck down like an ox, and *iniquity's throat cut like a calf.

*John. And Smith the weaver. *Geo. Argo, their thread of life is spun. *John. Come, come, let's fall in with them. Drum. Enter Cade, Dick the butcher, Smith the weaver, and others in great number. 'Cade. We John Cade, so termed of our supposed father,

Dick. Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings.3 [Aside.

'Cade. for our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with the spirit of putting down kings and

princes, Command silence.

Dick. He was an honest man, and a good brick

layer.

[Aside.

[Aside.

Cade. My mother a Plantagenet,— Dick. I knew her well, she was a midwife.

Cade. My wife descended of the Lacies,Dick. She was, indeed, a pedlar's daughter, and [Aside. sold many laces. 'Smith. But, now of late, not able to travel with 'her furred 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 [Aside. had never a house, but the cage.

*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 [Aside. whipped three market days together. Cade. I fear neither sword nor fire. Smith. He need not fear the sword, for his coat [Aside. is of proof. Dick. But, methinks, he should stand in fear of fire, being 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, (2) Low men. (3) A barrel of herrings.

seven half-penny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; 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:-there shall '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 mine 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 let

ters 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

*W. Staff. But angry, wrathful, and inclin❜d to blood,

If you go forward: therefore yield, or die. Cade. As for these silken-coated slaves, 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.

Staff. Villain, thy father was a plasterer;
And thou thyself, a shearman, Art thou not?
Cade. And Adam was a gardener.
'W. Staff. And what of that?

Cade. Marry, this :-Edmund Mortimer, earl of
March,

Married the duke of Clarence' daughter; Did he not? Staff. Ay, sir.

Cade. By her, he had two children at one birth. W. Staff. That's false.

Cade. Ay, there's the question; but, I say, 'tis

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.

*Staff. And will you credit this base drudge's words,

*That speaks he knows not what?

*All. Ay, marry, will we; therefore get ye gone. W. Staff. Jack Cade, the duke of York hath taught you this.

*Cade. He lies, for I invented it myself. [Aside.]

Clerk. Emmanuel.

Dick. They use to write it on the top of letters; -Twill go hard with you.

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 confessed: 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. [Exeunt some 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 encountered with a man as good as himself: He is but a knight, is 'a?

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 maimed, and fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance holds it up. Fellow kings, I tell you, that my lord Say hath gelded the commonwealth, and made it an eunuch: and more than that, he can speak French, and therefore he is a traitor. Staff. O gross and miserable ignorance! 'Cade. Nay, answer, if you can: The Frenchmen are 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. *W. Staff. Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,

*Assail them with the army of the king.

Staff. 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 children's sight, Be hang'd up for example at their doors :And you, that be the king's friends, follow me. [Exeunt the two Staffords, and forces. *Cade. And you, that love the commons, follow

me.

* Now show yourselves men, 'tis for liberty. We will not leave one lord, one gentleman: Spare none, but such as go in clouted shoon;2

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 to ward us.

*Cade. But then are we in order, when we are * most out of order. Come, march forward.

[Exeunt. SCENE III-Another part of Blackheath. Alarums. The two parties enter and fight, and

both the Staffords are slain.

'Cade. Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford? 'Dick. Here, sir.

Cade. They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, ' and thou behavedst thyself as if thou hadst been in 'thine own slaughter-house: therefore thus will I reward thee,-The Lent shall be as long again as it is; and thou shalt have a license to kill for a hundred lacking one.

'Dick. I desire no more.

*Cade. And, to speak truth, thou deservedst no *less. This monument of the victory will I bear: * and the bodies shall be dragged at my horse' heels, * till I do come to London, where we will have the mayor's sword borne before us.

*Dick. If 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-London. A room in the palace. Enter King Henry, reading a supplication; the duke of Buckingham, and lord Say with him: at a distance, Queen Margaret, mourning over Suffolk's head.

*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. Hen. 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 shall cut them short, Will parley with Jack Cade their general.But stay, I'll read it over once again. *Q. Mar. Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely face

Rul'd, like a wandering planet,1 over me; And could it not enforce them to relent, * That were unworthy to behold the same? K. Hen. Lord Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head.

Say. Ay, but I hope, your highness shall have his. K. Hen. How now, madam? Still Lamenting, and mourning for 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. Hen. How now! what news? why com'st thou in such haste?

Mess. 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

(1) Predominated irresistibly over my passions; as the planets ovor those born under their influence.

Fly and forsake their houses:

The rascal people, thirsting after prey, To spoil the city, and your royal court. *Join with the traitor; and they jointly swear,

*Buck. Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse.

*K. Hen. Come, Margaret; God, our hope, will succour us.

*Q. Mar. My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceas'd.

*K. Hen. Farewell, my lord; [To Lord Say.] trust not the Kentish rebels.

* Buck. Trust nobody, for fear you be betray'd. Say. The trust I have is in mine innocence, And therefore am I bold and resolute. [Exeunt.

Enter

SCENE V-The same. The Tower. Lord Scales, and others, on the Walls. Then enter certain 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,
The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower.
But get you to Smithfield, and gather head,
And thither I will send you Matthew Gough:
Fight for your king, your country, and your lives;
And so farewell, for I must hence again. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI-The same.
ter Jack Cade, and his followers. He strikes
his staff on London-stone.

Cannon Street. En

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 this 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.

Sold. Jack Cade! Jack Cade! Cade. Knock him down there. [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.