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Re-enter Rebels, with the heads of Lord SAY and his Son-in-law.
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. 144
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.
Clif. What say ye, countrymen? will ye relent
And yield to mercy, whilst 'tis offer'd you,
Or let a rabble 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 ve 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!
Clif. 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 carls 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
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.
Cadle. 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 midst 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.
Buck. What is he fled? go some, and follow
SECOND PART OF KING HENRY VI.
And show'd how well you love your prince and | And sends the poor well pleased from my gate. country:
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, rudecompanion, what soe'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?
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,
Mess. 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.
K. Ilen. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade
and York distress'd;
Like to a ship that, having 'scap'd a tempest,
Is straightway calm'd, and boarded with a pirate.
But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd,
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 dismiss'd from him.
Som. My lord,
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 door-nail, I pray God
I may never eat grass more.
Iden. Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England
That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,
Took odds to combat a poor famish'd 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; 50
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 digg'd 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
They fight. CADE falls.
beseech God on my knees thou mayest be turned
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 hence-
forth a burying-place to all that do dwell in this
house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is
Iden. Is 't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
I'll yield myself to prison willingly,
Or unto death, to do my country good.
K. Hen. In any case, be not too rough in terms,
For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.
Buck. I will, my lord; and doubt not so to deal
As all things shall redound unto your good.
K. Hen. Come, wife, let's in, and learn to
For yet may England curse my wretched reign.
SCENE X.-Kent. IDEN's Garden,
Cade. Fie on ambition! 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, on 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 'sailet
must serve me to feed on.
Jelen. Lord! who would live turmoiled in the
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 hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead:
Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed,
Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,
To emblaze the honour that thy master got.
But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,
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.
Iden. How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be
Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare
And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
So wish I I might thrust thy soul to hell.
20 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.
SCENE I.-Fields between Dartford and Blackheath. The King's camp on one side. On the other, 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.
York. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
Ah! sancta majestas, who would not buy thee And fight against that monstrous rebel, Cade,
Let them obey that know 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,
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,
On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France. The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.
Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble. Buck. 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?
Buck. 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'st 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.
O 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.
Buck. That is too much presumption on thy
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?
Buck. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
York. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my
Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves:
Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,
You shall have pay, and every thing you wish.
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, any thing I have,
Is his to use, so Somerset may die,
K. Hen. The head of Cade! 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
Iden. I was, an 't like your majesty.
K. Hen. How art thou call'd, and what is thy degree?
Iden. Alexander Iden, that's my name; A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king. Buck. So please it you, my lord, 't were not amiss He were created knight for his good service. K. Hen. Iden, kneel down. He knee's.
Rise up a knight. We give thee for reward a thousand marks; And will that thou henceforth attend on us. 8 Iden. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, And never live but true unto his liege.
K. Hen. See! Buckingham, Somerset comes with the queen:
Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke.
Enter Queen MARGARET and SOMERSET.
Q. Mar. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide
But boldly stand and front him to his face.
York. How now! is Somerset at liberty? Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd 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. Som. O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York, Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown. Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.
York. Would'st 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:
I know ere they will have me go to ward,
They'll pawn their souls for my enfranchisement.
Q. Mar. Call hither Clifford; bid him come
To say if that the bastard boys of York
Shall be the surety for their traitor father.
York. O blood-besotted 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, with Forces, at one
side; at the other, with Forces also, Old CLIF-
FORD and his Son.
See where they come: I'll warrant they 'll make it good.
Q. Mar. And here comes Clifford, to deny their bail.
Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the
York. I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news
Nay, do not fright us with an angry look:
We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.
Clif. This is my king, York; I do not mistake;
But thou mistak'st me much to think I do.
To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?
K. Ilen. Ay, Clifford ; a bedlam and ambitious
And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.
Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur
Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried:
And such a piece of service will you do,
If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.
Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested
As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!
York. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon. Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.
K. Hen. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot
Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!
What! wilt thou on thy death-bed play the
And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
O! where is faith? O! where is loyalty?
If it be banish'd 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?
That bows unto the grave with mickle age.
For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me,
Sal. My lord, I have consider'd 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.
K. Hen. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto
Makes him oppose himself against his king.
Clif. He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his.
Q. Mar. He is arrested, but will not obey:
His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.
York. Will you not, sons?
Edw. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons
Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we
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 WARWICK and SALISBURY,
The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
As on a mountain top the cedar shows
Clif. Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
Even to affright thee with the view thereof.
Clif. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy
And tread it under foot with all contempt,
Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear. 210
Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father,
To quell the rebels and their complices.
Rich. Fie! charity! for shame! speak not in
For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.
Y. Clif. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou
Q. Mar. A subtle traitor needs no sophister. K. Hen. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
I am resolv'd for death or dignity.
Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove
War. You were best to go to bed and dream
To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
Clif. I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm
Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's
And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarm, 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 encounter'd him, 10
And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.
War. 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. War. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st.
As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,
It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. Exit. Clif. 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.
Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! 30 Exit.
Enter Young CLIFFORD.
Y. Clif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout:
Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds Where it should guard. O war! thou son of hell,
Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly:
He that is truly dedicate to war
Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself
Hath not essentially, but by circumstance,
The name of valour. Seeing his father's body.
O let the vile world end,
And the premised flames of the last day
Knit earth and heaven together;
Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
Particularities and petty sounds
To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days thus
To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight
My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine
It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;
No more will I their babes: tears virginal
Shall be to me even as the dew to fire;
And beauty, that the tyrant oft reclaims,
Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
Henceforth I will not have to do with pity:
Mect I an infant of the house of York,
Into as many gobbets will I cut it
As wild Medea young Absyrtus did:
In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
Taking up the body.
As did Eneas old Anchises bear,
So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
But then Æneas bare a living load,
Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. Exit.
Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET, fighting.
SOMERSET is killed.
Rich. So, lie thou there;
For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset
Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still: Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. Exit. Alarums. Excursions. Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, and Others, retreating.
Q. Mar. Away, my lord! you are slow: for shame, away!
K. Hen. Can we outrun the heavens ? good Margaret, stay.
Q. Mar. What are you made of? you'll nor
fight nor fly;
Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,
To give the enemy way, and to secure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly.
Alarum afar of
If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
Of all our fortunes: but if we haply 'scape,
As well we may, if not through your neglect, e
We shall to London get, where you are lov'd.
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be stopp'd.
Re-enter Young CLIFFORD.
Y. Clif. But that my heart's on future mis-
I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly;
But fly you must: uncurable discomfit
Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
Away, for your relief! and we will live
To see their day and them our fortune give.
Away, my lord, away!
SCENE III.-Fields near Saint Alban's. Alarum. Retreat. Flourish; then enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK, and Soldiers, with drun and colours.
York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him? That winter lion, who in rage forgets Aged contusions and all brush of time, And, like a gallant in the brow of youth, Repairs him with occasion? This happy day