Chapter 5

Beau. Bring me vnto my Triall when you will. Dy'de he not in his bed? Where should he dye? Can I make men liue where they will or no? Oh torture me no more, I will confesse. Aliue againe? Then shew me where he is, Ile giue a thousand pound to looke vpon him. He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them. Combe downe his haire; looke, looke, it stands vpright, Like Lime-twigs set to catch my winged soule: Giue me some drinke, and bid the Apothecarie Bring the strong poyson that I bought of him

King. Oh thou eternall mouer of the heauens, Looke with a gentle eye vpon this Wretch, Oh beate away the busie medling Fiend, That layes strong siege vnto this wretches soule, And from his bosome purge this blacke dispaire

War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin

Sal. Disturbe him not, let him passe peaceably

King. Peace to his soule, if Gods good pleasure be. Lord Card'nall, if thou think'st on heauens blisse, Hold vp thy hand, make signall of thy hope. He dies and makes no signe: Oh God forgiue him

War. So bad a death, argues a monstrous life

King. Forbeare to iudge, for we are sinners all. Close vp his eyes, and draw the Curtaine close, And let vs all to Meditation.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Fight at Sea. Ordnance goes off.

Enter Lieutenant, Suffolke, and others.

Lieu. The gaudy blabbing and remorsefull day, Is crept into the bosome of the Sea: And now loud houling Wolues arouse the Iades That dragge the Tragicke melancholy night: Who with their drowsie, slow, and flagging wings Cleape dead-mens graues, and from their misty Iawes, Breath foule contagious darknesse in the ayre: Therefore bring forth the Souldiers of our prize, For whilst our Pinnace Anchors in the Downes, Heere shall they make their ransome on the sand, Or with their blood staine this discoloured shore. Maister, this Prisoner freely giue I thee, And thou that art his Mate, make boote of this: The other Walter Whitmore is thy share

1.Gent. What is my ransome Master, let me know

Ma. A thousand Crownes, or else lay down your head Mate. And so much shall you giue, or off goes yours

Lieu. What thinke you much to pay 2000. Crownes, And beare the name and port of Gentlemen? Cut both the Villaines throats, for dy you shall: The liues of those which we haue lost in fight, Be counter-poys'd with such a pettie summe

1.Gent. Ile giue it sir, and therefore spare my life

2.Gent. And so will I, and write home for it straight

Whitm. I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboord, And therefore to reuenge it, shalt thou dye, And so should these, if I might haue my will

Lieu. Be not so rash, take ransome, let him liue

Suf. Looke on my George, I am a Gentleman, Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be payed

Whit. And so am I: my name is Walter Whitmore. How now? why starts thou? What doth death affright? Suf. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death: A cunning man did calculate my birth, And told me that by Water I should dye: Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded, Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded

Whit. Gualtier or Walter, which it is I care not, Neuer yet did base dishonour blurre our name, But with our sword we wip'd away the blot. Therefore, when Merchant-like I sell reuenge, Broke be my sword, my Armes torne and defac'd, And I proclaim'd a Coward through the world

Suf. Stay Whitmore, for thy Prisoner is a Prince, The Duke of Suffolke, William de la Pole

Whit. The Duke of Suffolke, muffled vp in ragges? Suf. I, but these ragges are no part of the Duke

Lieu. But Ioue was neuer slaine as thou shalt be, Obscure and lowsie Swaine, King Henries blood

Suf. The honourable blood of Lancaster Must not be shed by such a iaded Groome: Hast thou not kist thy hand, and held my stirrop? Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth Mule, And thought thee happy when I shooke my head. How often hast thou waited at my cup, Fed from my Trencher, kneel'd downe at the boord, When I haue feasted with Queene Margaret? Remember it, and let it make thee Crest-falne, I, and alay this thy abortiue Pride: How in our voyding Lobby hast thou stood, And duly wayted for my comming forth? This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalfe, And therefore shall it charme thy riotous tongue

Whit. Speak Captaine, shall I stab the forlorn Swain

Lieu. First let my words stab him, as he hath me

Suf. Base slaue, thy words are blunt, and so art thou

Lieu. Conuey him hence, and on our long boats side, Strike off his head

Suf. Thou dar'st not for thy owne

Lieu. Poole, Sir Poole? Lord, I kennell, puddle, sinke, whose filth and dirt Troubles the siluer Spring, where England drinkes: Now will I dam vp this thy yawning mouth, For swallowing the Treasure of the Realme. Thy lips that kist the Queene, shall sweepe the ground: And thou that smil'dst at good Duke Humfries death, Against the senselesse windes shall grin in vaine, Who in contempt shall hisse at thee againe. And wedded be thou to the Hagges of hell, For daring to affye a mighty Lord Vnto the daughter of a worthlesse King, Hauing neyther Subiect, Wealth, nor Diadem: By diuellish policy art thou growne great, And like ambitious Sylla ouer-gorg'd, With gobbets of thy Mother-bleeding heart. By thee Aniou and Maine were sold to France. The false reuolting Normans thorough thee, Disdaine to call vs Lord, and Piccardie Hath slaine their Gouernors, surpriz'd our Forts, And sent the ragged Souldiers wounded home. The Princely Warwicke, and the Neuils all, Whose dreadfull swords were neuer drawne in vaine, As hating thee, and rising vp in armes. And now the House of Yorke thrust from the Crowne, By shamefull murther of a guiltlesse King, And lofty proud incroaching tyranny, Burnes with reuenging fire, whose hopefull colours Aduance our halfe-fac'd Sunne, striuing to shine; Vnder the which is writ, Inuitis nubibus. The Commons heere in Kent are vp in armes, And to conclude, Reproach and Beggerie, Is crept into the Pallace of our King, And all by thee: away, conuey him hence

Suf. O that I were a God, to shoot forth Thunder Vpon these paltry, seruile, abiect Drudges: Small things make base men proud. This Villaine heere, Being Captaine of a Pinnace, threatens more Then Bargulus the strong Illyrian Pyrate. Drones sucke not Eagles blood, but rob Bee-hiues: It is impossible that I should dye By such a lowly Vassall as thy selfe. Thy words moue Rage, and not remorse in me: I go of Message from the Queene to France: I charge thee waft me safely crosse the Channell

Lieu. Water: W. Come Suffolke, I must waft thee to thy death

Suf. Pine gelidus timor occupat artus, it is thee I feare

Wal. Thou shalt haue cause to feare before I leaue thee. What, are ye danted now? Now will ye stoope

1.Gent. My gracious Lord intreat him, speak him fair

Suf. Suffolkes Imperiall tongue is sterne and rough: Vs'd to command, vntaught to pleade for fauour. Farre be it, we should honor such as these With humble suite: no, rather let my head Stoope to the blocke, then these knees bow to any, Saue to the God of heauen, and to my King: And sooner dance vpon a bloody pole, Then stand vncouer'd to the Vulgar Groome. True Nobility, is exempt from feare: More can I beare, then you dare execute

Lieu. Hale him away, and let him talke no more: Come Souldiers, shew what cruelty ye can

Suf. That this my death may neuer be forgot. Great men oft dye by vilde Bezonions. A Romane Sworder, and Bandetto slaue Murder'd sweet Tully. Brutus Bastard hand Stab'd Iulius Cæsar. Sauage Islanders Pompey the Great, and Suffolke dyes by Pyrats.

Exit Water with Suffolke.

Lieu. And as for these whose ransome we haue set, It is our pleasure one of them depart: Therefore come you with vs, and let him go.

Exit Lieutenant, and the rest.

Manet the first Gent. Enter Walter with the body.

Wal. There let his head, and liuelesse bodie lye, Vntill the Queene his Mistris bury it.

Exit Walter

1.Gent. O barbarous and bloudy spectacle, His body will I beare vnto the King: If he reuenge it not, yet will his Friends, So will the Queene, that liuing, held him deere. Enter Beuis, and Iohn Holland.

Beuis. Come and get thee a sword, though made of a Lath, they haue bene vp these two dayes

Hol. They haue the more neede to sleepe now then

Beuis. I tell thee, Iacke Cade the Cloathier, meanes to dresse the Common-wealth and turne it, and set a new nap vpon it

Hol. So he had need, for 'tis thred-bare. Well, I say, it was neuer merrie world in England, since Gentlemen came vp

Beuis. O miserable Age: Vertue is not regarded in Handy-crafts men

Hol. The Nobilitie thinke scorne to goe in Leather Aprons

Beuis. Nay more, the Kings Councell are no good Workemen

Hol. 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

Beuis. Thou hast hit it: for there's no better signe of a braue minde, then a hard hand

Hol. I see them, I see them: There's Bests Sonne, the Tanner of Wingham

Beuis. Hee shall haue the skinnes of our enemies, to make Dogges Leather of

Hol. And Dicke the Butcher

Beuis. Then is sin strucke downe like an Oxe, and iniquities throate cut like a Calfe

Hol. And Smith the Weauer

Beu. Argo, their thred of life is spun

Hol. Come, come, let's fall in with them.

Drumme. Enter Cade, Dicke Butcher, Smith the Weauer, and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers.

Cade. Wee Iohn Cade, so tearm'd of our supposed Father

But. Or rather of stealing a Cade of Herrings

Cade. For our enemies shall faile before vs, inspired with the spirit of putting down Kings and Princes. Command silence

But. Silence

Cade. My Father was a Mortimer

But. He was an honest man, and a good Bricklayer

Cade. My mother a Plantagenet

Butch. I knew her well, she was a Midwife

Cade. My wife descended of the Lacies

But. She was indeed a Pedlers daughter, & sold many Laces

Weauer. But now of late, not able to trauell with her furr'd Packe, she washes buckes here at home

Cade. Therefore am I of an honorable house

But. I by my faith, the field is honourable, and there was he borne, vnder a hedge: for his Father had neuer a house but the Cage

Cade. Valiant I am

Weauer. A must needs, for beggery is valiant

Cade. I am able to endure much

But. No question of that: for I haue seene him whipt three Market dayes together

Cade. I feare neither sword, nor fire

Wea. He neede not feare the sword, for his Coate is of proofe

But. But me thinks he should stand in feare of fire, being burnt i'th hand for stealing of Sheepe

Cade. Be braue then, for your Captaine is Braue, and Vowes Reformation. There shall be in England, seuen halfe peny Loaues sold for a peny: the three hoop'd pot, shall haue ten hoopes, and I wil make it Fellony to drink small Beere. All the Realme shall be in Common, and in Cheapside shall my Palfrey go to grasse: and when I am King, as King I will be

All. God saue your Maiesty

Cade. I thanke you good people. There shall bee no mony, all shall eate and drinke on my score, and I will apparrell them all in one Liuery, that they may agree like Brothers, and worship me their Lord

But. The first thing we do, let's kill all the Lawyers

Cade. Nay, that I meane to do. Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent Lambe should be made Parchment; that Parchment being scribeld ore, should vndoe a man. Some say the Bee stings, but I say, 'tis the Bees waxe: for I did but seale once to a thing, and I was neuer mine owne man since. How now? Who's there? Enter a Clearke.

Weauer. The Clearke of Chartam: hee can write and reade, and cast accompt

Cade. O monstrous

Wea. We tooke him setting of boyes Copies

Cade. Here's a Villaine

Wea. Ha's a Booke in his pocket with red Letters in't Cade. Nay then he is a Coniurer

But. Nay, he can make Obligations, and write Court hand

Cade. I am sorry for't: The man is a proper man of mine Honour: vnlesse I finde him guilty he shall not die. Come hither sirrah, I must examine thee: What is thy name? Clearke. Emanuell

But. They vse to writ it on the top of Letters: 'Twill go hard with you

Cade. Let me alone: Dost thou vse to write thy name? Or hast thou a marke to thy selfe, like a honest plain dealing man? Clearke. Sir I thanke God, I haue bin so well brought vp, that I can write my name

All. He hath confest: away with him: he's a Villaine and a Traitor

Cade. Away with him I say: Hang him with his Pen and Inke-horne about his necke.

Exit one with the Clearke

Enter Michael.

Mich. Where's our Generall? Cade. Heere I am thou particular fellow

Mich. Fly, fly, fly, Sir Humfrey Stafford and his brother are hard by, with the Kings Forces

Cade. Stand villaine, stand, or Ile fell thee downe: he shall be encountred with a man as good as himselfe. He is but a Knight, is a? Mich. No

Cade. To equall him I will make my selfe a knight, presently; Rise vp Sir Iohn Mortimer. Now haue at him. Enter Sir Humfrey Stafford, and his Brother, with Drum and Soldiers.

Staf. Rebellious Hinds, the filth and scum of Kent, Mark'd for the Gallowes: Lay your Weapons downe, Home to your Cottages: forsake this Groome. The King is mercifull, if you reuolt

Bro. But angry, wrathfull, and inclin'd to blood, If you go forward: therefore yeeld, or dye

Cade. As for these silken-coated slaues I passe not, It is to you good people, that I speake, Ouer whom (in time to come) I hope to raigne: For I am rightfull heyre vnto the Crowne

Staff. Villaine, thy Father was a Playsterer, And thou thy selfe a Sheareman, art thou not? Cade. And Adam was a Gardiner

Bro. And what of that? Cade. Marry, this Edmund Mortimer Earle of March, married the Duke of Clarence daughter, did he not? Staf. I sir

Cade. By her he had two children at one birth

Bro. That's false

Cade. I, there's the question; But I say, 'tis true: The elder of them being put to nurse, Was by a begger-woman stolne away, And ignorant of his birth and parentage, Became a Bricklayer, when he came to age. His sonne am I, deny it if you can

But. Nay, 'tis too true, therefore he shall be King

Wea. Sir, he made a Chimney in my Fathers house, & the brickes are aliue at this day to testifie it: therefore deny it not

Staf. And will you credit this base Drudges Wordes, that speakes he knowes not what

All. I marry will we: therefore get ye gone

Bro. Iacke Cade, the D[uke]. of York hath taught you this

Cade. He lyes, for I inuented it my selfe. Go too Sirrah, tell the King from me, that for his Fathers sake Henry the fift, (in whose time, boyes went to Span-counter for French Crownes) I am content he shall raigne, but Ile be Protector ouer him

Butcher. And furthermore, wee'l haue the Lord Sayes head, for selling the Dukedome of Maine

Cade And good reason: for thereby is England main'd And faine to go with a staffe, but that my puissance holds it vp. Fellow-Kings, I tell you, that that Lord Say hath gelded the Commonwealth, and made it an Eunuch: & more then that, he can speake French, and therefore hee is a Traitor

Staf. O grosse and miserable ignorance

Cade. Nay answer if you can: The Frenchmen are our enemies: go too then, I ask but this: Can he that speaks with the tongue of an enemy, be a good Councellour, or no? All. No, no, and therefore wee'l haue his head

Bro. Well, seeing gentle words will not preuayle, Assaile them with the Army of the King

Staf. Herald away, and throughout euery Towne, Proclaime them Traitors that are vp with Cade, That those which flye before the battell ends, May euen in their Wiues and Childrens sight, Be hang'd vp for example at their doores: And you that be the Kings Friends follow me. Enter.

Cade. And you that loue the Commons, follow me: Now shew your selues men, 'tis for Liberty. We will not leaue one Lord, one Gentleman: Spare none, but such as go in clouted shooen, For they are thrifty honest men, and such As would (but that they dare not) take our parts

But. They are all in order, and march toward vs

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

Alarums to the fight, wherein both the Staffords are slaine. Enter Cade and the rest.

Cade. Where's Dicke, the Butcher of Ashford? But. Heere sir

Cade. They fell before thee like Sheepe and Oxen, & thou behaued'st thy selfe, as if thou hadst beene in thine owne Slaughter-house: Therfore thus will I reward thee, the Lent shall bee as long againe as it is, and thou shalt haue a License to kill for a hundred lacking one

But. I desire no more

Cade. And to speake truth, thou deseru'st no lesse. This Monument of the victory will I beare, and the bodies shall be dragg'd at my horse heeles, till I do come to London, where we will haue the Maiors sword born before vs

But. If we meane to thriue, and do good, breake open the Gaoles, and let out the Prisoners

Cade. Feare not that I warrant thee. Come, let's march towards London.

Exeunt.

Enter the King with a Supplication, and the Queene with Suffolkes head, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Say.

Queene. Oft haue I heard that greefe softens the mind, And makes it fearefull and degenerate, Thinke therefore on reuenge, and cease to weepe. But who can cease to weepe, and looke on this. Heere may his head lye on my throbbing brest: But where's the body that I should imbrace? Buc. What answer makes your Grace to the Rebells Supplication? King. Ile send some holy Bishop to intreat: For God forbid, so many simple soules Should perish by the Sword. And I my selfe, Rather then bloody Warre shall cut them short, Will parley with Iacke Cade their Generall. But stay, Ile read it ouer once againe

Qu. Ah barbarous villaines: Hath this louely face, Rul'd like a wandering Plannet ouer me, And could it not inforce them to relent, That were vnworthy to behold the same

King. Lord Say, Iacke Cade hath sworne to haue thy head

Say. I, but I hope your Highnesse shall haue his

King. How now Madam? Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolkes death? I feare me (Loue) if that I had beene dead, Thou would'st not haue mourn'd so much for me

Qu. No my Loue, I should not mourne, but dye for thee. Enter a Messenger.

King. How now? What newes? Why com'st thou in such haste? Mes. The Rebels are in Southwarke: Fly my Lord: Iacke Cade proclaimes himselfe Lord Mortimer, Descended from the Duke of Clarence house, And calles your Grace Vsurper, openly, And vowes to Crowne himselfe in Westminster. His Army is a ragged multitude Of Hindes and Pezants, rude and mercilesse: Sir Humfrey Stafford, and his Brothers death, Hath giuen them heart and courage to proceede: All Schollers, Lawyers, Courtiers, Gentlemen, They call false Catterpillers, and intend their death

Kin. Oh gracelesse men: they know not what they do

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

Qu. Ah were the Duke of Suffolke now aliue, These Kentish Rebels would be soone appeas'd

King. Lord Say, the Traitors hateth thee, Therefore away with vs to Killingworth

Say. So might your Graces person be in danger. The sight of me is odious in their eyes: And therefore in this Citty will I stay, And liue alone as secret as I may. Enter another Messenger.

Mess. Iacke Cade hath gotten London-bridge. The Citizens flye and forsake their houses: The Rascall people, thirsting after prey, Ioyne with the Traitor, and they ioyntly sweare To spoyle the City, and your Royall Court

Buc. Then linger not my Lord, away, take horse

King. Come Margaret, God our hope will succor vs

Qu. My hope is gone, now Suffolke is deceast

King. Farewell my Lord, trust not the Kentish Rebels Buc. Trust no body for feare you betraid

Say. The trust I haue, is in mine innocence, And therefore am I bold and resolute.

Exeunt.

Enter Lord Scales vpon the Tower walking. Then enters two or three Citizens below.

Scales. How now? Is Iacke Cade slaine? 1.Cit. No my Lord, nor likely to be slaine: For they haue wonne the Bridge, Killing all those that withstand them: The L[ord]. Maior craues ayd of your Honor from the Tower To defend the City from the Rebels

Scales. Such ayd as I can spare you shall command, But I am troubled heere with them my selfe, The Rebels haue assay'd to win the Tower. But get you to Smithfield, and gather head, And thither I will send you Mathew Goffe. Fight for your King, your Countrey, and your Liues, And so farwell, for I must hence againe.

Exeunt.

Enter Iacke Cade and the rest, and strikes his staffe on London stone.

Cade. Now is Mortimer Lord of this City, And heere sitting vpon London Stone, I charge and command, that of the Cities cost The pissing Conduit run nothing but Clarret Wine This first yeare of our raigne. And now henceforward it shall be Treason for any, That calles me other then Lord Mortimer. Enter a Soldier running.

Soul. Iacke Cade, Iacke Cade

Cade. Knocke him downe there.

They kill him.

But. If this Fellow be wise, hee'l neuer call yee Iacke Cade more, I thinke he hath a very faire warning

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

Cade. Come, then let's go fight with them: But first, go and set London Bridge on fire, And if you can, burne downe the Tower too. Come, let's away.

Exeunt. omnes.

Alarums. Mathew Goffe is slain, and all the rest. Then enter Iacke Cade, with his Company.

Cade. So sirs: now go some and pull down the Sauoy: Others to'th Innes of Court, downe with them all

But. I haue a suite vnto your Lordship

Cade. Bee it a Lordshippe, thou shalt haue it for that word

But. Onely that the Lawes of England may come out of your mouth

Iohn. Masse 'twill be sore Law then, for he was thrust in the mouth with a Speare, and 'tis not whole yet

Smith. Nay Iohn, it wil be stinking Law, for his breath stinkes with eating toasted cheese

Cade. I haue thought vpon it, it shall bee so. Away, burne all the Records of the Realme, my mouth shall be the Parliament of England

Iohn. Then we are like to haue biting Statutes Vnlesse his teeth be pull'd out

Cade. And hence-forward all things shall be in Common. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. My Lord, a prize, a prize, heeres the Lord Say, which sold the Townes in France. He that made vs pay one and twenty Fifteenes, and one shilling to the pound, the last Subsidie. Enter George, with the Lord Say.

Cade. Well, hee shall be beheaded for it ten times: Ah thou Say, thou Surge, nay thou Buckram Lord, now art thou within point-blanke of our Iurisdiction Regall. What canst thou answer to my Maiesty, for giuing vp of Normandie vnto Mounsieur Basimecu, the Dolphine of France? Be it knowne vnto thee by these presence, euen the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the Beesome that must sweepe the Court cleane of such filth as thou art: Thou hast most traiterously corrupted the youth of the Realme, in erecting a Grammar Schoole: and whereas before, our Fore-fathers had no other Bookes but the Score and the Tally, thou hast caused printing to be vs'd, and contrary to the King, his Crowne, and Dignity, thou hast built a Paper-Mill. It will be prooued to thy Face, that thou hast men about thee, that vsually talke of a Nowne and a Verbe, and such abhominable wordes, as no Christian eare can endure to heare. Thou hast appointed Iustices of Peace, to call poore men before them, about matters they were not able to answer. Moreouer, thou hast put them in prison, and because they could not reade, thou hast hang'd them, when (indeede) onely for that cause they haue beene most worthy to liue. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou not? Say. What of that? Cade. Marry, thou ought'st not to let thy horse weare a Cloake, when honester men then thou go in their Hose and Doublets

Dicke. And worke in their shirt to, as my selfe for example, that am a butcher

Say. You men of Kent

Dic. What say you of Kent

Say. Nothing but this: 'Tis bona terra, mala gens

Cade. Away with him, away with him, he speaks Latine