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This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.

Wbit. Speak, Captain, shall I ftab the forlorn swain ?
Cap. First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
Suf. Base save, thy words are blunt ; and so art thou.

Cap. Convey him hence, and, on our long-boat's side,
Strike off his head.

Suf. Thou dar'ft not for thy own.

Cap. Poole, Sir Poole? lord?
Ay, kennel

-puddle-link, whose filth and dirt
Troubles the silver Spring where England drinks :
Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth,
For swallowing up the treasure of the Realm.
Thy lips, that kiss’d the Queen, shall sweep the ground;
And thou, that smil'dft at good Duke Humphry'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 affie a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless King,
Having nor Subject, Wealth, nor Diadem!
By devilish policy art thou grown great,
And, like ambitious Sylla, over-gorg'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 Picardie
Hath Nain 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 murther of a guiltless King,
And lofty proud incroaching tyranny,
Burns with revenging fire ; whose hopeful Colours
Advance a 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

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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 paultry, 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. (14)
Drones suck not eagles blood, but rob bee-hives.
It is impossible that I should die

such a lowly vassal as thy self.
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
Wbit. Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
Suf. Pænæ gelidus timor occupat artus : it's thee I fear. (15)

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,
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 heav'n, 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.

Cap. Hale him away, and let him talk no more ;
Come, soldiers, shew what cruelty ye can.

(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.

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Suf. That this my death may never be forgot,
Great men oft die by vile Bezonians.
A Roman fworder and Bandetto have
Murther'd sweet Tully ; Brutus' bastard hand
Stabb'd Julius Cæsar ; favage Isanders
Pompey the Great: And Suffolk dies by Pirates.

[Exit Walter Whitmore with Suffolk.
Cap. 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.

[Ex. Captain and the rest.

Manet the first Gent. Enter Whitmore, with the body.

Whit. There let his head and liveless body lye,
Until the Queen his mistress bury it. [Exit Whir.

i 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. [Exit.

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SCENE changes to Southwark.

Enter Bevis and John Holland.
Bevis. OME, get thee a sword though made of

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.

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:
Bevis. Argo, their thread of life is spun.
Hol. Come, come, let's fall in with them.

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.

Dick. Silence.
Cade. My father was a Mortimer-
Dick. He was an honest man and a good bricklayer.
Cade. My mother à 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 fold

many laces.

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.
Weav. A' must needs, for beggary is valiant.

Cade.

I

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. We took him setting boys copies.
Cade. Here's a villain !

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.

Cade.

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