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'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 :"

*

* 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?

* Cap. First let my words stab him, as he hath

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me.

Suf. Base slave! thy words are blunt, and so

art thou.

Cap. Convey him hence, and on our long-boat's

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Cap.

Thou dar'st not for thy own.

Poole?

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:

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Thy lips, that kiss'd the queen, shall sweep

ground:

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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 :

5 abortive pride:] Pride that has had birth too soon, pride issuing before its time.

* And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
* For daring to affy 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, surpriz'd our forts, * And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. * The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,* Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,— * As hating thee, are rising up in arms:

* And now the house of York-thrust from the 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. *Suf. O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!

6

* 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.

6 to affy-] To affy is to betroth in marriage.

"Being captain of a pinnace,] A pinnace did not anciently signify, as at present, a man of war's boat, but a ship of small burthen.

'It is impossible, that I should die

By such a lowly vassal as thyself.

Thy words move rage, and not remorse, in me: 'I go of message from the queen to France;

'I charge thee, waft me safely cross the channel. Cap. Walter,

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

*Suf. 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.

Suf. 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,

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Cap. Hale him away, and let him talk no more. Suf. Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can, That this my death may never be forgot!

"Great men oft die by vile bezonians:

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.

8

[Exit Sur. with WHIT. and Others.

bezonians:] Bisognoso, is a mean low man.

9 A Roman sworder, &c.] i. e. Herennius a centurion, and Popilius Laenas, tribune of the soldiers.

Cap. And as for these whose ransome 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.

1 Gent. O barbarous and bloody spectacle! His body will I bear unto the king: 'If he revenge it not, yet will his friends; 'So will the queen, that living held him dear.

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Exit.

[Exit, with the Body.

SCENE II.

Blackheath.

Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLand.

'Geo. Come, and get thee a sword, though made of a lath; they have been up these two days.

John. They have the more need to sleep now then.

"Geo. I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means 'to dress the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.

I

John. So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, say, it was never merry world in England, since gentlemen came up.2

*Geo. O miserable age! Virtue is not regarded * in handycrafts-men.

1 Pompey the great :] The poet seems to have confounded the story of Pompey with some other.

2

since gentlemen came up.] Thus we familiarly say-a fashion comes up.

John. The nobility think scorn to go in leather 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.*

[Aside.

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

4

Dick. Silence!

Cade. My father was a Mortimer,—

3a cade of herrings.] That is, A barrel of herrings. our enemies shall fall before us,] He alludes to his name Cade, from cado, Lat. to fall. He has too much learning for his character. JOHNSON.

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