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This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
Wbit. Speak, Captain, shall I ftab the forlorn swain ?
Cap. Convey him hence, and, on our long-boat's side,
Suf. Thou dar'ft not for thy own.
Cap. Poole, Sir Poole? lord?
-puddle-link, whose filth and dirt
Is crept into the Palace of our King,
Suf. O, that I were a God, to shoot forth thunder
such a lowly vassal as thy self.
Wbit. Thou shalt have cause to fear, before I leave thee. What, are ye daunted now ? now will ye stoop?
I Gent. My gracious lord, intreat him ; speak him fair.
Suf. Suffolk's imperial tongue is ftern and rough,
Cap. Hale him away, and let him talk no more ;
(14) Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian Pirate.] The old 4to reads, than mighty Abradas the great Macedonian Pirate. Neither of these Wights have I been able to trace, or discover from what Legend our Author deriv'd his Acquaintance with them.
(15) Pine gelidus timor occupat artus.) Thus the ift Folio Impression. Whence the Poet glean’d this Hemistich, I do not know. Tis certain, the first Word is corrupted. I believe, I have restord it, as it ought to be. Suffolk would say, the Fear of that Punishment, that Revenge, they were about to take upon him, put his Limbs into a cold trembling.
Suf. That this my death may never be forgot,
[Exit Walter Whitmore with Suffolk.
[Ex. Captain and the rest.
Manet the first Gent. Enter Whitmore, with the body.
Whit. There let his head and liveless body lye,
i Gent. O barbarous and bloody spectacle ! !
SCENE changes to Southwark.
Enter Bevis and John Holland.
lath . Hol. They have the more need to sleep now then.
Bevis. I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.
Hol. So he had need, for 'tis thread-bare. Well, I say, it was never merry world in England since Gentlemen came up.
Bevis. O miserable age! virtue is not regarded in handy-crafts men.
Hól. The Nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.
Revis. Nay more, the King's Council are no good workmen.
Hol. True, and yet it is said, Labour in thy vocation ; which is as much as to say, let the magistrates be labouring men ; and therefore should we be magistrates.
Bevis. Thou hast hit it ; for there's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.
Hol. I see them, I see them; there's Best's son, the tanner of Wingbam.
Bevis. He shall have the skins of our enemies to make dog's leather of.
Hol. And Dick the butcher:
Bevis. Then is sin ftruck down like an ox, and iniquity's throat cut like a calf.
Hol. And Smith the weaver:
Drum. Enter Cade, Dick the butcher, Smith the weaver,
and a sawyer, with infinite numbers. Cade. We John Cade, fo term'd of our supposed father
Dick. Or rather of stealing a cade of herrings. Cade. For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with the spirit of putting down Kings and Princes ; command silence.
Weav. But, now of late, not able to travel with her furr'd pack, she washes bucks here at home.
Cade. Therefore am I of an honourable House.
Dick. Ay, by my fạith, the field is honourable ; and there was he born, under a hedge; for his father had never a house but the cage.
Cade. Valiant I am.
Cade. I am able to endure much.
Dick. No question of that; for I have seen him whipt three market days together.
Cade. I fear neither sword nor fire.
Weav. He need not fear the sword, for his coat is of proof.
Dick. But, methinks, he should stand in fear of fire, being burnt i'th' hand for stealing of sheep.
Cade. Be brave then, for your Captain is brave, and vows reformation. There shall be in England seven half-penny loaves sold for a penny; the three-hoop'd 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 mony; all shall eat and drink upon 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 the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment ; that parchment being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some fay, the bee stings; but I say, 'tis bee's wax; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never my own man since. How now? who is there?
Enter a Clerk. Weav. The clerk of Chatham; he can write and read, and cast accompt.
Cade. O monstrous !
Weav. He'as a book in his pocket with red letters in't.
Cade. Nay, then he's a conjurer.
Dick. Nay, he can make obligations, and write Courthand.