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and Ink-horn about his Neck.

[Exit one with the Clerk.

Enter Michael.

Mich. Where is our General?

Cade. Here I am, thou particular Fellow.

Mich. Fly, fly, fly, Sir Humphry Stafford and his Brother are hard by with the King's Forces.

Cade. Stand Villain, ftand, or I'll fell thee down; he fhall be encountred with a Man as good as himself. He is but a Knight, is a?

Mich. No.

Cade. To equal him I will make my felf a Knight prefently; rife up, Sir John Mortimer. Now have at him. Enter Sir Humphry Stafford, and young Stafford, with

Drum and Soldiers.

Staf. Rebellious Hinds, the filth and fcum of Kent,
Mark'd for the Gallows; lay your Weapons down,
Home to your Cottages, forfake this Groom,
The King is merciful if you revolt.

Y. Staf. But angry, wrathful, and inclin❜d to Blood,
If you go forward; therefore yield or die.

Cade. As for thefe filken-coated Slaves I pafs not,
It is to you good People, that I fpeak,

Over whom (in time to come) I hope to reign:
For I am rightful Heir unto the Crown.

Staf. Villain. they Father was a Plaisterer,
And thou thy felf a Shearman, art thou not?
Cade. And Adam was a Gardener.

Y. Staf. And what of that?

Cade. Marry, this Edmond Mortimer Earl of March, married the Duke of Clarence's Daughter, did he not?

Staf. Ay, Sir.

Cade. By her he had two Children at one birth.

Y. Staf. That's falfe.

Cade. Ay, there's the Queftion; but I fay, 'tis true:

The elder of them being put to Nurse,

Was by a Beggar-woman ftoln away,

And ignorant of his Birth and Parentage,

Became a Bricklayer, when he came to age.

His Son am I, deny it if you can.

Dick. Nay, 'tis too true, therefore he fhall be King.

04

Wear.

Weav. Sir, he made a Chimney in my Father's Houfs, and the Bricks are alive at this Day to teftify it; therefore deny it not.

Staf. And will you credit this bafe Drudge's Words, that speaks he knows not what?

All. Ay marry will we, therefore get you gone.

Y. Staf. Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this. Cade. He lies, for I invented it my felf. Go too, Sirrah, tell the King from me, That for his Father's fake, Henry the Fifth (in whofe time Boys went to Span-counter for French Crowns) I am content he fhall Reign, but I'll be Protector over him.

Dick. And furthermore, we'll have the Lord Say's Head, for felling the Dukedome of Main.

Cade. And good reafon; for thereby is England maim'd, and fain to go with a Staff, but that my Puiffance holds it up: Fellow Kings, I tell you, that 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. Staf. O grofs and miferable Ignorance.

Cade. Nay, anfwer if you can; the Frenchmen are our Enemies; go too then: I ask but this, Can he that speaks with the Tongue of the Enemy be a good Councellor or no? All. No, no, and therefore we'll have his Head.

Y. Staf. Well, feeing gentle Words will not prevail,
Affail them with the Army of the King.

Staf. Herald away, and throughout every Town,
Proclaim them Traitors that are up with Cade;
That those which fly befere the Battel ends,
May, even in their Wives and Childrens fight,
Be hang'd up for Example at their Doors;

[Exit.

And you
that be the King's Friends follow me;
Cade. And you that love the Commons follow me;
Now fhew your felves Men, 'tis for Liberty,
We'll not leave one Lord, one Gentleman;
Spare none, but fuch as go in clouted Shoone,
For they are thrifty honeft Men, and such
As would (but they dare not) take our parts.
Dick, They are all in order, and march towards us.

Cade.

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

Alarum to fight, wherein both the Staffords are flain.
Enter Cade and the reft.

Cade. Where's Dick, the Butcher of Ashford?
Dick. Here, Sir.

Cade. They fell before thee' like Sheep and Oxen, and thou behaved'ft thy felf, as if thou hadst been in thine own Slaughter-houfe: Therefore thus I will reward thee, the Lent fhall be as long again as it is, and thou fhalt have a Licenfe to kill for a hundred lacking one.

Dick. I defire no more.

Cade. And to fpeak truth, thou deferv'ft no lefs. This Monument of the Victory will I bear, and the Bodies shall be dragg'd at my Horfe's heels, 'till I do come to London, where we will have the Mayor's Sword born before us.

Dick. If we mean to thrive and do good, break open the Goals, and let out the Prifoners.

Cade. Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march towards London. [Exeunt. Enter King Henry with a Supplication, and Queen Margaret with Suffolk's Head, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Say.

2. 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 ceafe to weep, and look on this?
Here may his Head lie on my throbbing Breast:
But where's the Body that I fhould imbrace?

Buck. What Anfwer makes your Grace to the Rebels Supplication?

K. Henry. I'll fend fome Holy Bifhop to intreat;
For God forbid fo many fimple Souls

Should perish by the Sword. And I my felf,
Rather than bloody War fhould cut them fhort,
Will parly with Jack Cade their General..
But ftay, I'll read it over once again.

9. Mar. Ah barbarous Villains! hath this lovely Face Rul'd like a wandring Planet over me,

And could it not inforce them to relent,

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That were unworthy to behold the fame?

K. Henry Lord Say, JackCade hath fworn to have thy Head,
Say. Ay, but I hope your Highnefs fhall have his.
K. Henry. How now, Madam?

Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death?
I fear me, Love, if that I had been dead,,

Thou would't not half have mourn'd fo much for me.
Q. Mar. No, my Love, I fhould not mourn, but die

Enter a Messenger.

[for thee.

K. Henry. How now? what News? Why com'ft thou
[in fuch hafte?
Mef. The Rebels are in Southwark; fly, my Lord:
Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,
Defcended from the Duke of Clarence's House,
And calls your Grace Ufurper openly,
And vows to crown himfelt in Westminster.
His Army is a ragged multitude

Of Hinds and Peasants, rude and merciless:
Sir Humphry Stafford, and his Brother's death,
Hath given them Heart and Courage to proceed:
All Scholars, Lawyers, Courtiers, Gentlemen,
They call falfe Caterpillers, and intend their death.
K. Henry. Ograceless Men! they know not what they do,
Buck. My gracious Lord, retire to Killingworth,
Until a Power be rais'd to put them down.

9. Mar. Ah! were the Duke of Suffolk now alive, Thete Kentish Rebels fhould be foon appeas'd.

K. Henry. Lord Say, the Traitors hate thee, Therefore away with us to Killingworth.

Say. So might your Grace's Perfon be in danger: The fight of me is odious in their Eyes;

And therefore in this City will I ftay,

And live alone as fecret as I may.

Enter another Meffenger.

2 Mef Jack Cade hath gotten London-bridge,
The Citizens fly him, and forfake their Houses:
The Rafcal People, thirsting after prey,
Join with the Traitor, and they jointly fwear
To poil the City, and your Royal Court.

Buck

Buck. Then linger not, my Lord; away, take Horse. K. Henry. Come, Margaret, God, our hope, will fuccour us. 2. Mar. My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceas'd. K. Henry. Farewel, my Lord, truft not to Kentish Rebels. Buck. Truft no Body, for fear you be betray'd. Say. The truft I have is in mine Innocence, And therefore am I bold and refolute,

[Exeunt.

Enter Lord Scales upon the Tower walking. Then enter two or three Citizens below.

Scales. How now? Is Jack Cade flain?

1 Cit. No, my Lord, nor like to be flain:

For they have won the Bridge,

Killing all thofe 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 fhall command,
But I am troubled here with them my felf.
The Rebels have affay'd to win the Tower.
But get you into Smithfield, and gather Head,
And thither will I fend you Matthew Goff.

Fight for your King, your Country, and your Lives,
And fo farewel, for I must hence again.

[Exeum, Enter Jack Cade and the reft, and Arikes his Staff on

London Stone.

Cade. Now is Mortimer Lord of this City,
And here fitting upon Londone-Stone.

I charge and command, that of the City's coft
The piffing Conduit run nothing but Claret Wine
The first year of our Reign.

And now henceforward it fhall be Treafon for any
That calls me other than Lord Mortimer.

Enter a Soldier running.

Sol. Jack Cade, Jack Cade.

Cade. Knock him down there.

[They kill him.

Wear. If this Fellow be wife, he'll never call you a Cade more, I think he hath a very fair warning.

Dick. My Lord, there's an Army gathered together in Smithfield,

Cade. Come, then, let's go fight with them: But first, go and fet London Bridge on Fire,

And

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