Part 77

The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head on his shoulders unless he pay me tribute; there shall not a maid be married but she shall pay to me her maidenhead ere they have it. Men shall hold of me _in capite;_ and we charge and command that their wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue can tell.

DICK. My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside and take up commodities upon our bills?

CADE. Marry, presently.

ALL. O, brave!

Enter one with the heads.

CADE. But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another, for they loved well when they were alive. Now part them again, lest they consult about the giving up of some more towns in France. Soldiers, defer the spoil of the city until night; for with these borne before us instead of maces will we ride through the streets, and at every corner have them kiss. Away!

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE VIII. Southwark

Alarum and retreat. Enter Cade and all his rabblement.

CADE. Up Fish Street! Down Saint Magnus’ Corner! Kill and knock down! Throw them into Thames! [_Sound a parley_.] What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to sound retreat or parley when I command them kill?

Enter Buckingham and old Clifford attended.

BUCKINGHAM. Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee. Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the King Unto the commons, whom thou hast misled, And here pronounce free pardon to them all That will forsake thee and go home in peace.

CLIFFORD. What say ye, countrymen? Will ye relent And yield to mercy whilst ’tis offered you, Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths? Who loves the King and will embrace his pardon, Fling up his cap, and say “God save his Majesty!” Who hateth him and honours not his father, Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake, Shake he his weapon at us and pass by.

ALL. God save the King! God save the King!

CADE. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave? And you, base peasants, do ye believe him? Will you needs be hanged with your pardons about your necks? Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates, that you should leave me at the White Hart in Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out these arms till you had recovered your ancient freedom; but you are all recreants and dastards, and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. Let them break your backs with burdens, take your houses over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one, and so God’s curse light upon you all!

ALL. We’ll follow Cade! We’ll follow Cade!

CLIFFORD. Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth, That thus you do exclaim you’ll go with him? Will he conduct you through the heart of France And make the meanest of you earls and dukes? Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to, Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil, Unless by robbing of your friends and us. Were ’t not a shame that whilst you live at jar The fearful French, whom you late vanquished, Should make a start o’er seas and vanquish you? Methinks already in this civil broil I see them lording it in London streets, Crying “_Villiago!_” unto all they meet. Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman’s mercy. To France, to France, and get what you have lost! Spare England, for it is your native coast. Henry hath money, you are strong and manly; God on our side, doubt not of victory.

ALL. A Clifford! A Clifford! We’ll follow the King and Clifford.

CADE. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them to an hundred mischiefs and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me, for here is no staying.—In despite of the devils and hell, have through the very middest of you! And heavens and honour be witness that no want of resolution in me, but only my followers’ base and ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels.

[_Exit._]

BUCKINGHAM. What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him; And he that brings his head unto the King Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.

[_Exeunt some of them._]

Follow me, soldiers; we’ll devise a mean To reconcile you all unto the King.

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE IX. Kenilworth Castle

Sound trumpets. Enter King, Queen and Somerset on the terrace, aloft.

KING HENRY. Was ever king that joyed an earthly throne And could command no more content than I? No sooner was I crept out of my cradle But I was made a king at nine months old. Was never subject longed to be a king As I do long and wish to be a subject.

Enter Buckingham and old Clifford.

BUCKINGHAM. Health and glad tidings to your majesty!

KING HENRY. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surprised? Or is he but retired to make him strong?

Enter below multitudes with halters about their necks.

CLIFFORD. He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield, And humbly thus, with halters on their necks, Expect your highness’ doom of life or death.

KING HENRY. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates To entertain my vows of thanks and praise! Soldiers, this day have you redeemed your lives And showed how well you love your prince and country. Continue still in this so good a mind, And Henry, though he be infortunate, Assure yourselves, will never be unkind. And so, with thanks and pardon to you all, I do dismiss you to your several countries.

ALL. God save the King! God save the King!

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER. Please it your grace to be advertised The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland, And with a puissant and a mighty power Of gallowglasses and stout kerns Is marching hitherward in proud array, And still proclaimeth, as he comes along, His arms are only to remove from thee The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.

KING HENRY. Thus stands my state, ’twixt Cade and York distressed, Like to a ship that, having scaped a tempest, Is straightway calmed and boarded with a pirate. But now is Cade driven back, his men dispersed, And now is York in arms to second him. I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him, And ask him what’s the reason of these arms. Tell him I’ll send Duke Edmund to the Tower.— And, Somerset, we will commit thee thither, Until his army be dismissed from him.

SOMERSET. My lord, I’ll yield myself to prison willingly, Or unto death, to do my country good.

KING HENRY. In any case, be not too rough in terms, For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.

BUCKINGHAM. I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal As all things shall redound unto your good.

KING HENRY. Come, wife, let’s in, and learn to govern better; For yet may England curse my wretched reign.

[_Flourish. Exeunt._]

SCENE X. Kent. Iden’s Garden

Enter Cade.

CADE. Fie on ambitions! Fie on myself, that have a sword and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for all the country is laid for me; but now am I so hungry that if I might have a lease of my life for a thousand years, I could stay no longer. Wherefore, o’er a brick wall have I climbed into this garden, to see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a man’s stomach this hot weather. And I think this word “sallet” was born to do me good; for many a time, but for a sallet, my brain-pan had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time, when I have been dry and bravely marching, it hath served me instead of a quart pot to drink in; and now the word “sallet” must serve me to feed on.

Enter Iden and his men.

IDEN. Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court And may enjoy such quiet walks as these? This small inheritance my father left me Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy. I seek not to wax great by others’ waning, Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy; Sufficeth that I have maintains my state And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.

CADE. Here’s the lord of the soil come to seize me for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave.—Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me and get a thousand crowns of the King by carrying my head to him; but I’ll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part.

IDEN. Why, rude companion, whatsoe’er thou be, I know thee not; why, then, should I betray thee? Is ’t not enough to break into my garden And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds, Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner, But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?

CADE. Brave thee? Ay, by the best blood that ever was broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat no meat these five days, yet come thou and thy five men, and if I do not leave you all as dead as a doornail, I pray God I may never eat grass more.

IDEN. Nay, it shall ne’er be said, while England stands, That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent, Took odds to combat a poor famished man. Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine, See if thou canst outface me with thy looks. Set limb to limb and thou art far the lesser; Thy hand is but a finger to my fist, Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon. My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast; And if mine arm be heaved in the air, Thy grave is digged already in the earth. As for words, whose greatness answers words, Let this my sword report what speech forbears.

CADE. By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou mayst be turned to hobnails.

[_Here they fight and Cade falls._]

O, I am slain! Famine and no other hath slain me. Let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have lost, and I’d defy them all. Wither, garden; and be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in this house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

IDEN. Is’t Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor? Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed, And hang thee o’er my tomb when I am dead. Ne’er shall this blood be wiped from thy point, But thou shalt wear it as a herald’s coat To emblaze the honour that thy master got.

CADE. Iden, farewell, and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from me she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour.

[_Dies._]

IDEN. How much thou wrong’st me, heaven be my judge. Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee! And as I thrust thy body in with my sword, So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell. Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels Unto a dunghill, which shall be thy grave, And there cut off thy most ungracious head, Which I will bear in triumph to the King, Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon.

[_Exit._]

ACT V

SCENE I. Fields between Dartford and Blackheath

Enter York and his army of Irish, with drum and colours.

YORK. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right And pluck the crown from feeble Henry’s head. Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright, To entertain great England’s lawful king. Ah, _sancta majestas_, who would not buy thee dear? Let them obey that knows not how to rule. This hand was made to handle nought but gold. I cannot give due action to my words Except a sword or sceptre balance it. A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul, On which I’ll toss the fleur-de-luce of France.

Enter Buckingham.

Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? The King hath sent him, sure. I must dissemble.

BUCKINGHAM. York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well.

YORK. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting. Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?

BUCKINGHAM. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege, To know the reason of these arms in peace; Or why thou, being a subject as I am, Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn, Should raise so great a power without his leave, Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.

YORK. [_Aside_.] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great. O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, I am so angry at these abject terms; And now, like Ajax Telamonius, On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury. I am far better born than is the King, More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts. But I must make fair weather yet awhile, Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.— Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me, That I have given no answer all this while; My mind was troubled with deep melancholy. The cause why I have brought this army hither Is to remove proud Somerset from the King, Seditious to his grace and to the state.

BUCKINGHAM. That is too much presumption on thy part; But if thy arms be to no other end, The King hath yielded unto thy demand: The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.

YORK. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?

BUCKINGHAM. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.

YORK. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers. Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves; Meet me tomorrow in Saint George’s field, You shall have pay and everything you wish.

[_Exeunt Soldiers._]

And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons, As pledges of my fealty and love, I’ll send them all as willing as I live. Lands, goods, horse, armour, anything I have Is his to use, so Somerset may die.

BUCKINGHAM. York, I commend this kind submission. We twain will go into his highness’ tent.

Enter King and Attendants.

KING HENRY. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?

YORK. In all submission and humility York doth present himself unto your highness.

KING HENRY. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?

YORK. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade, Who since I heard to be discomfited.

Enter Iden with Cade’s head.

IDEN. If one so rude and of so mean condition May pass into the presence of a king, Lo, I present your grace a traitor’s head, The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.

KING HENRY. The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou! O, let me view his visage, being dead, That living wrought me such exceeding trouble. Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?

IDEN. I was, an ’t like your majesty.

KING HENRY. How art thou called? And what is thy degree?

IDEN. Alexander Iden, that’s my name; A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his King.

BUCKINGHAM. So please it you, my lord, ’twere not amiss He were created knight for his good service.

KING HENRY. Iden, kneel down. [_He kneels_.] Rise up a knight. We give thee for reward a thousand marks, And will that thou henceforth attend on us.

IDEN. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, And never live but true unto his liege!

[_Rises._]

Enter Queen and Somerset.

KING HENRY. See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the Queen. Go, bid her hide him quickly from the Duke.

QUEEN MARGARET. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head, But boldly stand and front him to his face.

YORK. How now? Is Somerset at liberty? Then, York, unloose thy long-imprisoned thoughts, And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart. Shall I endure the sight of Somerset? False king, why hast thou broken faith with me, Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse? “King” did I call thee? No, thou art not king, Not fit to govern and rule multitudes, Which dar’st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor. That head of thine doth not become a crown; Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer’s staff, And not to grace an awful princely sceptre. That gold must round engirt these brows of mine, Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles’ spear, Is able with the change to kill and cure. Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up And with the same to act controlling laws. Give place! By heaven, thou shalt rule no more O’er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.

SOMERSET. O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York, Of capital treason ’gainst the King and crown. Obey, audacious traitor, kneel for grace.

YORK. Wouldst have me kneel? First let me ask of these If they can brook I bow a knee to man. Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail.

[_Exit Attendant._]

I know, ere they will have me go to ward, They’ll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.

QUEEN MARGARET. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain, To say if that the bastard boys of York Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

[_Exit Buckingham._]

YORK. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan, Outcast of Naples, England’s bloody scourge! The sons of York, thy betters in their birth, Shall be their father’s bail; and bane to those That for my surety will refuse the boys!

Enter Edward and Richard.

See where they come; I’ll warrant they’ll make it good.

Enter old Clifford and his Son.

QUEEN MARGARET. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.

CLIFFORD. Health and all happiness to my lord the King.

[_Rises._]

YORK. I thank thee, Clifford. Say, what news with thee? Nay, do not fright us with an angry look. We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again. For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.

CLIFFORD. This is my king, York, I do not mistake; But thou mistakes me much to think I do. To Bedlam with him! Is the man grown mad?

KING HENRY. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against his king.

CLIFFORD. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower, And chop away that factious pate of his.

QUEEN MARGARET. He is arrested, but will not obey; His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.

YORK. Will you not, sons?

EDWARD. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.

RICHARD. And if words will not, then our weapons shall.

CLIFFORD. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!

YORK. Look in a glass, and call thy image so. I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor. Call hither to the stake my two brave bears, That with the very shaking of their chains They may astonish these fell-lurking curs. Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

Enter the Earls of Warwick and Salisbury.

CLIFFORD. Are these thy bears? We’ll bait thy bears to death And manacle the bearherd in their chains, If thou dar’st bring them to the baiting-place.

RICHARD. Oft have I seen a hot o’erweening cur Run back and bite because he was withheld, Who, being suffered with the bear’s fell paw, Hath clapped his tail between his legs and cried; And such a piece of service will you do If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.

CLIFFORD. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump, As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!

YORK. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.

CLIFFORD. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.

KING HENRY. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow? Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son! What, wilt thou on thy deathbed play the ruffian, And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles? O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty? If it be banished from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harbour in the earth? Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war, And shame thine honourable age with blood? Why art thou old, and want’st experience? Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it? For shame, in duty bend thy knee to me That bows unto the grave with mickle age.

SALISBURY. My lord, I have considered with myself The title of this most renowned duke, And in my conscience do repute his grace The rightful heir to England’s royal seat.

KING HENRY. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?

SALISBURY. I have.

KING HENRY. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?

SALISBURY. It is great sin to swear unto a sin, But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. Who can be bound by any solemn vow To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, To force a spotless virgin’s chastity, To reave the orphan of his patrimony, To wring the widow from her customed right, And have no other reason for this wrong But that he was bound by a solemn oath?

QUEEN MARGARET. A subtle traitor needs no sophister.

KING HENRY. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.

YORK. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, I am resolved for death or dignity.

CLIFFORD. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.

WARWICK. You were best to go to bed and dream again, To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

CLIFFORD. I am resolved to bear a greater storm Than any thou canst conjure up today; And that I’ll write upon thy burgonet, Might I but know thee by thy household badge.

WARWICK. Now, by my father’s badge, old Neville’s crest, The rampant bear chained to the ragged staff, This day I’ll wear aloft my burgonet, As on a mountain top the cedar shows That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm, Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

CLIFFORD. And from thy burgonet I’ll rend thy bear And tread it under foot with all contempt, Despite the bearherd that protects the bear.

YOUNG CLIFFORD. And so to arms, victorious father, To quell the rebels and their complices.

RICHARD. Fie, charity, for shame! Speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ tonight.

YOUNG CLIFFORD. Foul stigmatic, that’s more than thou canst tell.

RICHARD. If not in heaven, you’ll surely sup in hell.

[_Exeunt severally._]

SCENE II. Saint Albans

The sign of the Castle Inn is displayed. Alarums to the battle. Enter Warwick.

WARWICK. Clifford of Cumberland, ’tis Warwick calls; An if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum And dead men’s cries do fill the empty air, Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me! Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.

Enter York.

How now, my noble lord? What, all afoot?

YORK. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed, But match to match I have encountered him And made a prey for carrion kites and crows Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.

Enter old Clifford.

WARWICK. Of one or both of us the time is come.

YORK. Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase, For I myself must hunt this deer to death.

WARWICK. Then, nobly, York; ’tis for a crown thou fight’st. As I intend, Clifford, to thrive today, It grieves my soul to leave thee unassailed.

[_Exit._]

CLIFFORD. What seest thou in me, York? Why dost thou pause?

YORK. With thy brave bearing should I be in love, But that thou art so fast mine enemy.

CLIFFORD. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem, But that ’tis shown ignobly and in treason.

YORK. So let it help me now against thy sword As I in justice and true right express it!

CLIFFORD. My soul and body on the action both!

YORK. A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.

[_They fight and Clifford falls._]

CLIFFORD. _La fin couronne les oeuvres._

[_Dies._]

YORK. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still. Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!

[_Exit._]

Enter young Clifford.