thine own flaughter-houfe; therefore thus I will reward thee. The lent fhall be as long as it is, and thou fhalt have a licenfe to kill for a hundred lack

Cade. And, to fpeak truth, thou deferv'ft no lefs. This monument of the victory will I bear, and the bodies fhall be dragg'd at my horfe's heels till I ɖo come to London, where we will have the mayor's fword borne before us.

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

Cade. Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march towards London. [Exeunt.

Changes to Black-heath.

Enter King Henry with a fupplication, and Queen Margaret with Suffolk's head, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Say.

Q. Mar. Oft have I heard that grief foftens And makes it fearful and degenerate; [the mind, Think therefore on revenge, and ceafe to weep. But who can ceafe to weep and look on this? Here may his head ly on my throbbing breast; But where's the body that I fhould embrace? Buck. What anfwer makes your Grace the to rebels' fupplication?

K. Henry. I'll fend fome holy bishop to intreat; For God forbid fo many fimple fouls

Should perifh by the fword. And I myself,
Rather than bloody war fhould cut them fhort,
Will parley with Jack Cade their General.
But ftay, I'll read it over once again.

[face

Q. Mar. Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely Rul'd like a wand'ring planet over me, And could it not inforce them to relent, That were unworthy to behold the fame.

K. Henry. Lord Say, Jack Cade hath fworn to have thy head.

Say. Ay, but I hope your Highness shall have his.
K. Henry. How now, Madam?

Lamenting ftill and mourning Suffolk's death?
I fear me, love, if that I had been dead,

Thou wouldeft not have mourn'd fo much for me. Q. Mar. My love, I fhould not mourn, but die for thee.

Enter a Meffenger.

K. Henry. How now? what news? why com' thou in fuch hafte?

Me. The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my Lord.
Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,
Defcended from the Duke of Clarence' house,
And calls your Grace ufurper openly,

And vows to crown himself 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 fcholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,
They call falfe caterpillars, and intend their death.
K. Heury. O graceless men! they know not what
they do.

Buck. My gracious Lord, retire to Killingworth, Until a power be rais'd to put them down.

Q Mar. Ah! were the Duke of Suffolk now alive, Thele Kentifh 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 stay,

And live alone as fecret as I may.

Enter another Messenger.

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 spoil the city and your royal court.

Buck. Then linger not, my Lord; away, take

horfe:

K. Henry. Come, Marg'ret. God, our hope, will fuccour us.

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

K. Henry. Farewell, my Lord, trust not to Kentifh 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?

I Cit. No, my Lord, nor like to be flain, for they have won the bridge, killing all thofe that withftand 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 fpare you fhall command; But I am troubled here with them myfelf. The rebels have affayed to win the Tower. But get you into Smithfield, gather head, And thither will I fend you Matthew Goff. Fight for your King, your country and your lives And fo farewell, for I must hence again. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Cannon-street.

Enter Jack Cade and the reft, and strikes his fteff on London-ftone.

Cade. Now is Mortimer lord of this city, and here fitting upon London-ftone. 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!
VOL. VI.

Cade. Knock him down there. [They kill him. Weav. If this fellow be wife, he'll never call you Jack 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 firft go and fet London-bridge on fire; and, if you can, burn down the Tower too. Come, let's away. [Exeunt omnes.

SCENE changes to Smithfield.

Alarm Matthew Goff is flain, and all the reft. Then enter Jack Cade with his company.

Cade. So, Sirs. Now go fome and pull down the Savoy; others to the Inns of Courts; down with them all.

Dick. I have a fuit unto your Lordship.

Cade. Be it a lordship, thou fhalt have it for that word.

Dick. Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.

John Mafs, 'twill be fore law then, for he was thruft in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole yet.

Smith. Nay, John, it will be ftinking law, for his breath ftinks with eating toafted cheese.

Cade. I have thought upon it, it fhall be fo. Away, burn all the records of the realm; my mouth fhall be the parliament of England.

John. Then we are like to have biting statutes, unless his teeth be pull'd out.

Cade. And henceforward all things fhall be in

common.

SCENE

Enter a Messenger.

VI.

Mell My Lord, a prize, a prize! Here's the Lord Say which fold the town in France; he that made us pay one and twenty fifteens and one fhiling to the pound, the laft fubfidy.

Enter George, with the Lord Say.

Cade. Well, he fhall be beheaded for it ten times. -Ah, thou Say, thou ferge, nay, thou buckram Lord, now thou art within point-blank of our jurifdiction regal: what canft thou anfver to my Majefty for giving up of Normandy unto Monfieur Bufimecu*, the Dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by thefe prefents, even the prefence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the befoin that muft fweep the court clean of fuch filth as thou art. Thou hait molt traiterously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-fchool; and whereas before our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou haft caufed printing † to be us'd; and, contrary to the King his crown and dignity, thou haft built a paper-mill. It will be prov'd to thy face, that thou haft men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and fuch abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear. Thou haft appointed juftices of the peace to call poor men before them, about matters they were not able to anfwer. Moreover, thou haft put them in priton; and because they could not read, thou haft hang'd them; when, indeed, only for that caufe they have been moft worthy to live. Thou doft ride on a foot-cloth, doit thou not?

Say. What of that?

Cade. Marry, thou ought's not to let thy horse wear a cloak, when honefter men than thou go in their hofe and doublets.

Dick. And work in their fhirt too; as myfelf, for example, that am a butcher.

Say. You men of Kent,

Dick. What fay you of Kent?

Say. Nothing but this: 'tis bona terra, mala gens. Cade. Away with him, away with him, he fpeaks Latin.

• He means to fay, Baifez ma queue.

+ Shakespeare is a little too early with this accufation.

Johnfon.