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 RebelsBuc. 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 orthreeCitizens 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 TowerTo 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 costThe pissing Conduit run nothing but Clarret WineThis 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 IackeCade more, I thinke he hath a very faire warning
Dicke. My Lord, there's an Army gathered togetherin 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 thatword
But. Onely that the Lawes of England may come outof your mouth
Iohn. Masse 'twill be sore Law then, for he was thrustin the mouth with a Speare, and 'tis not whole yet
Smith. Nay Iohn, it wil be stinking Law, for his breathstinkes 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 StatutesVnlesse 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
Say. Heare me but speake, and beare mee wher'e youwill:Kent, in the Commentaries Cæsar writ,Is term'd the ciuel'st place of all this Isle:Sweet is the Country, because full of Riches,The People Liberall, Valiant, Actiue, Wealthy,Which makes me hope you are not void of pitty.I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandie,Yet to recouer them would loose my life:Iustice with fauour haue I alwayes done,Prayres and Teares haue mou'd me, Gifts could neuer.When haue I ought exacted at your hands?Kent to maintaine, the King, the Realme and you,Large gifts haue I bestow'd on learned Clearkes,Because my Booke preferr'd me to the King.And seeing Ignorance is the curse of God,Knowledge the Wing wherewith we flye to heauen.Vnlesse you be possest with diuellish spirits,You cannot but forbeare to murther me:This Tongue hath parlied vnto Forraigne KingsFor your behoofe
Cade. Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?Say. Great men haue reaching hands: oft haue I struckThose that I neuer saw, and strucke them dead
Geo. O monstrous Coward! What, to come behindeFolkes?Say. These cheekes are pale for watching for your goodCade. Giue him a box o'th' eare, and that wil make 'emred againe
Say. Long sitting to determine poore mens causes,Hath made me full of sicknesse and diseases
Cade. Ye shall haue a hempen Candle then, & the helpof hatchet
Dicke. Why dost thou quiuer man?Say. The Palsie, and not feare prouokes me
Cade. Nay, he noddes at vs, as who should say, Ile be euen with you. Ile see if his head will stand steddier on a pole, or no: Take him away, and behead him
Say. Tell me: wherein haue I offended most?Haue I affected wealth, or honor? Speake.Are my Chests fill'd vp with extorted Gold?Is my Apparrell sumptuous to behold?Whom haue I iniur'd, that ye seeke my death?These hands are free from guiltlesse bloodshedding,This breast from harbouring foule deceitfull thoughts.O let me liue
Cade. I feele remorse in my selfe with his words: but Ile bridle it: he shall dye, and it bee but for pleading so well for his life. Away with him, he ha's a Familiar vnder his Tongue, he speakes not a Gods name. Goe, take him away I say, and strike off his head presently, and then breake into his Sonne in Lawes house, Sir Iames Cromer, and strike off his head, and bring them both vppon two poles hither
All. It shall be done
Say. Ah Countrimen: If when you make your prair's,God should be so obdurate as your selues:How would it fare with your departed soules,And therefore yet relent, and saue my life
Cade. Away with him, and do as I command ye: the proudest Peere in the Realme, shall not weare a head on his shoulders, vnlesse he pay me tribute: there shall not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me her Maydenhead ere they haue it: Men shall hold of mee in Capite. And we charge and command, that their wiues be as free as heart can wish, or tongue can tell
Dicke. My Lord,When shall we go to Cheapside, and take vp commoditiesvpon our billes?Cade. Marry presently
All. O braue.Enter one with the heads.
Cade. But is not this brauer:Let them kisse one another: For they lou'd wellWhen they were aliue. Now part them againe,Least they consult about the giuing vpOf some more Townes in France. Soldiers,Deferre the spoile of the Citie vntill night:For with these borne before vs, in steed of Maces,Will we ride through the streets, & at euery CornerHaue them kisse. Away.
Exit
Alarum, and Retreat. Enter againe Cade, and all his rabblement.
Cade. Vp Fish-streete, downe Saint Magnes corner, kill and knocke downe, throw them into Thames:
Sound a parley.
What noise is this I heare?Dare any be so bold to sound Retreat or ParleyWhen I command them kill?Enter Buckingham, and old Clifford.
Buc. I heere they be, that dare and will disturb thee:Know Cade, we come Ambassadors from the KingVnto the Commons, whom thou hast misled,And heere pronounce free pardon to them all,That will forsake thee, and go home in peace
Clif. What say ye Countrimen, will ye relentAnd yeeld to mercy, whil'st 'tis offered you,Or let a rabble leade you to your deaths.Who loues the King, and will imbrace his pardon,Fling vp his cap, and say, God saue his Maiesty.Who hateth him, and honors not his Father,Henry the fift, that made all France to quake,Shake he his weapon at vs, and passe by
All. God saue the King, God saue the King
Cade. What Buckingham and Clifford are ye so braue? And you base Pezants, do ye beleeue him, will you needs be hang'd with your Pardons about your neckes? Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates, that you should leaue me at the White-heart in Southwarke. I thought ye would neuer haue giuen out these Armes til you had recouered your ancient Freedome. But you are all Recreants and Dastards, and delight to liue in slauerie to the Nobility. Let them breake your backes with burthens, take your houses ouer your heads, rauish your Wiues and Daughters before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one, and so Gods Cursse light vppon you all
All. Wee'l follow Cade,Wee'l follow Cade
Clif. Is Cade the sonne of Henry the fift,That thus you do exclaime you'l go with him.Will he conduct you through the heart of France,And make the meanest of you Earles and Dukes?Alas, he hath no home, no place to flye too:Nor knowes he how to liue, but by the spoile,Vnlesse by robbing of your Friends, and vs.Wer't not a shame, that whilst you liue at iarre,The fearfull French, whom you late vanquishedShould make a start ore-seas, and vanquish you?Me thinkes alreadie in this ciuill broyle,I see them Lording it in London streets,Crying Villiago vnto all they meete.Better ten thousand base-borne Cades miscarry,Then you should stoope vnto a Frenchmans mercy.To France, to France, and get what you haue lost:Spare England, for it is your Natiue Coast:Henry hath mony, you are strong and manly:God on our side, doubt not of Victorie
All. A Clifford, a Clifford,Wee'l follow the King, and Clifford
Cade. Was euer Feather so lightly blowne too & fro, as this multitude? The name of Henry the fift, hales them to an hundred mischiefes, and makes them leaue mee desolate. I see them lay their heades together to surprize me. My sword make way for me, for heere is no staying: in despight of the diuels and hell, haue through the verie middest of you, and heauens and honor be witnesse, that no want of resolution in mee, but onely my Followers base and ignominious treasons, makes me betake mee to my heeles.
Exit
Buck. What, is he fled? Go some and follow him,And he that brings his head vnto the King,Shall haue a thousand Crownes for his reward.
Exeunt. some of them.
Follow me souldiers, wee'l deuise a meane,To reconcile you all vnto the King.
Exeunt. omnes.
Sound Trumpets. Enter King, Queene, and Somerset on the Tarras.
King. Was euer King that ioy'd an earthly Throne,And could command no more content then I?No sooner was I crept out of my Cradle,But I was made a King, at nine months olde.Was neuer Subiect long'd to be a King,As I do long and wish to be a Subiect.Enter Buckingham and Clifford.
Buc. Health and glad tydings to your Maiesty
Kin. Why Buckingham, is the Traitor Cade surpris'd?Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?Enter Multitudes with Halters about their Neckes
Clif. He is fled my Lord, and all his powers do yeeld,And humbly thus with halters on their neckes,Expect your Highnesse doome of life, or death
King. Then heauen set ope thy euerlasting gates,To entertaine my vowes of thankes and praise.Souldiers, this day haue you redeem'd your liues,And shew'd how well you loue your Prince & Countrey:Continue still in this so good a minde,And Henry though he be infortunate,Assure your selues will neuer be vnkinde:And so with thankes, and pardon to you all,I do dismisse you to your seuerall Countries
All. God saue the King, God saue the King.Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Please it your Grace to be aduertised,The Duke of Yorke is newly come from Ireland,And with a puissant and a mighty powerOf Gallow-glasses and stout Kernes,Is marching hitherward in proud array,And still proclaimeth as he comes along,His Armes are onely to remoue from theeThe Duke of Somerset, whom he tearmes a Traitor
King. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and Yorkedistrest,Like to a Ship, that hauing scap'd a Tempest,Is straight way calme, and boorded with a Pyrate.But now is Cade driuen backe, his men dispierc'd,And now is Yorke in Armes, to second him.I pray thee Buckingham go and meete him,And aske him what's the reason of these Armes:Tell him, Ile send Duke Edmund to the Tower,And Somerset we will commit thee thither,Vntill his Army be dismist from him
Somerset. My Lord,Ile yeelde my selfe to prison willingly,Or vnto death, to do my Countrey good
King. In any case, be not to rough in termes,For he is fierce, and cannot brooke hard Language
Buc. I will my Lord, and doubt not so to deale,As all things shall redound vnto your good
King. Come wife, let's in, and learne to gouern better,For yet may England curse my wretched raigne.
Flourish. Exeunt.
Enter Cade.
Cade. Fye on Ambitions: fie on my selfe, that haue a sword, and yet am ready to famish. These fiue daies haue I hid me in these Woods, and durst not peepe out, for all the Country is laid for me: but now am I so hungry, that if I might haue a Lease of my life for a thousand yeares, I could stay no longer. Wherefore on a Bricke wall haue I climb'd into this Garden, to see if I can eate Grasse, or picke a Sallet another while, which is not amisse to coole a mans stomacke this hot weather: and I think this word Sallet was borne to do me good: for many a time but for a Sallet, my brain-pan had bene cleft with a brown Bill; and many a time when I haue beene dry, & brauely marching, it hath seru'd me insteede of a quart pot to drinke in: and now the word Sallet must serue me to feed on. Enter Iden.
Iden. Lord, who would liue turmoyled in the Court,And may enioy such quiet walkes as these?This small inheritance my Father left me,Contenteth me, and worth a Monarchy.I seeke not to waxe great by others warning,Or gather wealth I care not with what enuy:Sufficeth, that I haue maintaines my state,And sends the poore well pleased from my gate
Cade. Heere's the Lord of the soile come to seize me for a stray, for entering his Fee-simple without leaue. A Villaine, thou wilt betray me, and get a 1000. Crownes of the King by carrying my head to him, but Ile make thee eate Iron like an Ostridge, and swallow my Sword like a great pin ere thou and I part
Iden. Why rude Companion, whatsoere thou be, I know thee not, why then should I betray thee? Is't not enough to breake into my Garden, And like a Theefe to come to rob my grounds: Climbing my walles inspight of me the Owner, But thou wilt braue me with these sawcie termes? Cade. Braue thee? I by the best blood that euer was broach'd, and beard thee to. Looke on mee well, I haue eate no meate these fiue dayes, yet come thou and thy fiue men, and if I doe not leaue you all as dead as a doore naile, I pray God I may neuer eate grasse more
Iden. Nay, it shall nere be said, while England stands,That Alexander Iden an Esquire of Kent,Tooke oddes to combate a poore famisht man.Oppose thy stedfast gazing eyes to mine,See if thou canst out-face me with thy lookes:Set limbe to limbe, and thou art farre the lesser:Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,Thy legge a sticke compared with this Truncheon,My foote shall fight with all the strength thou hast,And if mine arme be heaued in the Ayre,Thy graue is digg'd already in the earth:As for words, whose greatnesse answer's words,Let this my sword report what speech forbeares
Cade. By my Valour: the most compleate Champion that euer I heard. Steele, if thou turne the edge, or cut not out the burly bon'd Clowne in chines of Beefe, ere thou sleepe in thy Sheath, I beseech Ioue on my knees thou mayst be turn'd to Hobnailes.
Heere they Fight.
O I am slaine, Famine and no other hath slaine me, let ten thousand diuelles come against me, and giue me but the ten meales I haue lost, and I'de defie them all. Wither Garden, and be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in this house, because the vnconquered soule of Cade is fled
Iden. Is't Cade that I haue slain, that monstrous traitor?Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deede,And hang thee o're my Tombe, when I am dead.Ne're shall this blood be wiped from thy point,But thou shalt weare it as a Heralds coate,To emblaze the Honor 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 neuer feared any, am vanquished by Famine, not by Valour.
Dyes.
Id. How much thou wrong'st me, heauen be my iudge;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 soule to hell.Hence will I dragge thee headlong by the heelesVnto a dunghill, which shall be thy graue,And there cut off thy most vngracious head,Which I will beare in triumph to the King,Leauing thy trunke for Crowes to feed vpon.Enter.
Enter Yorke, and his Army of Irish, with Drum and Colours.
Yor. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right,And plucke the Crowne from feeble Henries head.Ring Belles alowd, burne Bonfires cleare and brightTo entertaine great Englands lawfull King.Ah Sancta Maiestas! who would not buy thee deere?Let them obey, that knowes not how to Rule.This hand was made to handle nought but Gold.I cannot giue due action to my words,Except a Sword or Scepter ballance it.A Scepter shall it haue, haue I a soule,On which Ile tosse the Fleure-de-Luce of France.Enter Buckingham.
Whom haue we heere? Buckingham to disturbe me?The king hath sent him sure: I must dissemble
Buc. Yorke, if thou meanest wel, I greet thee well
Yor. Humfrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.Art thou a Messenger, or come of pleasure
Buc. A Messenger from Henry, our dread Liege,To know the reason of these Armes in peace.Or why, thou being a Subiect, as I am,Against thy Oath, and true Allegeance sworne,Should raise so great a power without his leaue?Or dare to bring thy Force so neere the Court?Yor. Scarse can I speake, my Choller is so great.Oh I could hew vp Rockes, and fight with Flint,I am so angry at these abiect tearmes.And now like Aiax Telamonius,On Sheepe or Oxen could I spend my furie.I am farre better borne then is the king:More like a King, more Kingly in my thoughts.But I must make faire weather yet a while,Till Henry be more weake, and I more strong.Buckingham, I prethee pardon me,That I haue giuen no answer all this while:My minde was troubled with deepe Melancholly.The cause why I haue brought this Armie hither,Is to remoue proud Somerset from the King,Seditious to his Grace, and to the State
Buc. That is too much presumption on thy part:But if thy Armes be to no other end,The King hath yeelded vnto thy demand:The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower
Yorke. Vpon thine Honor is he Prisoner?Buck. Vpon mine Honor he is Prisoner
Yorke. Then Buckingham I do dismisse my Powres.Souldiers, I thanke you all: disperse your selues:Meet me to morrow in S[aint]. Georges Field,You shall haue pay, and euery thing you wish.And let my Soueraigne, vertuous Henry,Command my eldest sonne, nay all my sonnes,As pledges of my Fealtie and Loue,Ile send them all as willing as I liue:Lands, Goods, Horse, Armor, any thing I haueIs his to vse, so Somerset may die
Buc. Yorke, I commend this kinde submission,We twaine will go into his Highnesse Tent.Enter King and Attendants.
King. Buckingham, doth Yorke intend no harme to vsThat thus he marcheth with thee arme in arme?Yorke. In all submission and humility,Yorke doth present himselfe vnto your Highnesse
K. Then what intends these Forces thou dost bring?Yor. To heaue the Traitor Somerset from hence,And fight against that monstrous Rebell Cade,Who since I heard to be discomfited.Enter Iden with Cades head.
Iden. If one so rude, and of so meane conditionMay passe into the presence of a King:Loe, I present your Grace a Traitors head,The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew
King. The head of Cade? Great God, how iust art thou?Oh let me view his Visage being dead,That liuing wrought me such exceeding trouble.Tell me my Friend, art thou the man that slew him?Iden. I was, an't like your Maiesty
King. How art thou call'd? And what is thy degree?Iden. Alexander Iden, that's my name,A poore Esquire of Kent, that loues his King
Buc. So please it you my Lord, 'twere not amisseHe were created Knight for his good seruice
King. Iden, kneele downe, rise vp a Knight:We giue thee for reward a thousand Markes,And will, that thou henceforth attend on vs
Iden. May Iden liue to merit such a bountie,And neuer liue but true vnto his Liege.Enter Queene and Somerset.
K. See Buckingham, Somerset comes with th' Queene,Go bid her hide him quickly from the Duke
Qu. For thousand Yorkes he shall not hide his head,But boldly stand, and front him to his face
Yor. How now? is Somerset at libertie?Then Yorke vnloose thy long imprisoned thoughts,And let thy tongue be equall with thy heart.Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?False King, why hast thou broken faith with me,Knowing how hardly I can brooke abuse?King did I call thee? No: thou art not King:Not fit to gouerne and rule multitudes,Which dar'st not, no nor canst not rule a Traitor.That Head of thine doth not become a Crowne:Thy Hand is made to graspe a Palmers staffe,And not to grace an awefull Princely Scepter.That Gold, must round engirt these browes of mine,Whose Smile and Frowne, like to Achilles SpeareIs able with the change, to kill and cure.Heere is hand to hold a Scepter vp,And with the same to acte controlling Lawes:Giue place: by heauen thou shalt rule no moreO're him, whom heauen created for thy Ruler
Som. O monstrous Traitor! I arrest thee YorkeOf Capitall Treason 'gainst the King and Crowne:Obey audacious Traitor, kneele for Grace
York. Wold'st haue me kneele? First let me ask of thee,If they can brooke I bow a knee to man:Sirrah, call in my sonne to be my bale:I know ere they will haue me go to Ward,They'l pawne their swords of my infranchisement
Qu. Call hither Clifford, bid him come amaine,To say, if that the Bastard boyes of YorkeShall be the Surety for their Traitor Father
Yorke. O blood-bespotted Neopolitan,Out-cast of Naples, Englands bloody Scourge,The sonnes of Yorke, thy betters in their birth,Shall be their Fathers baile, and bane to thoseThat for my Surety will refuse the Boyes.Enter Edward and Richard.
See where they come, Ile warrant they'l make it good.Enter Clifford.
Qu. And here comes Clifford to deny their baile
Clif. Health, and all happinesse to my Lord the King
Yor. I thanke thee Clifford: Say, what newes with thee?Nay, do not fright vs with an angry looke:We are thy Soueraigne Clifford, kneele againe;For thy mistaking so, We pardon thee
Clif. This is my King Yorke, I do not mistake,But thou mistakes me much to thinke I do,To Bedlem with him, is the man growne mad
King. I Clifford, a Bedlem and ambitious humorMakes him oppose himselfe against his King
Clif. He is a Traitor, let him to the Tower,And chop away that factious pate of his
Qu. He is arrested, but will not obey:His sonnes (he sayes) shall giue their words for him
Yor. Will you not Sonnes?Edw. I Noble Father, if our words will serue
Rich. And if words will not, then our Weapons shal
Clif. Why what a brood of Traitors haue we heere?Yorke. Looke in a Glasse, and call thy Image so.I am thy King, and thou a false-heart Traitor:Call hither to the stake my two braue Beares,That with the very shaking of their Chaines,They may astonish these fell-lurking Curres,Bid Salsbury and Warwicke come to me.Enter the Earles of Warwicke, and Salisbury.
Clif. Are these thy Beares? Wee'l bate thy Bears to death,And manacle the Berard in their Chaines,If thou dar'st bring them to the bayting place
Rich. Oft haue I seene a hot ore-weening Curre,Run backe and bite, because he was with-held,Who being suffer'd with the Beares fell paw,Hath clapt his taile, betweene his legges and cride,And such a peece of seruice will you do,If you oppose your selues to match Lord Warwicke
Clif. Hence heape of wrath, foule indigested lumpe,As crooked in thy manners, as thy shape
Yor. Nay we shall heate you thorowly anon
Clif. Take heede least by your heate you burne yourselues:King. Why Warwicke, hath thy knee forgot to bow?Old Salsbury, shame to thy siluer haire,Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sicke sonne,What wilt thou on thy death-bed play the Ruffian?And seeke for sorrow with thy Spectacles?Oh where is Faith? Oh, where is Loyalty?If it be banisht from the frostie head,Where shall it finde a harbour in the earth?Wilt thou go digge a graue to finde out Warre,And shame thine honourable Age with blood?Why art thou old, and want'st experience?Or wherefore doest abuse it, if thou hast it?For shame in dutie bend thy knee to me,That bowes vnto the graue with mickle age
Sal. My Lord, I haue considered with my selfeThe Title of this most renowned Duke,And in my conscience, do repute his graceThe rightfull heyre to Englands Royall seate
King. Hast thou not sworne Allegeance vnto me?Sal. I haue
Ki. Canst thou dispense with heauen for such an oath?Sal. It is great sinne, to sweare vnto a sinne:But greater sinne to keepe a sinfull oath:Who can be bound by any solemne VowTo do a murd'rous deede, to rob a man,To force a spotlesse Virgins Chastitie,To reaue the Orphan of his Patrimonie,To wring the Widdow from her custom'd right,And haue no other reason for this wrong,But that he was bound by a solemne Oath?Qu. A subtle Traitor needs no Sophister
King. Call Buckingham, and bid him arme himselfe
Yorke. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,I am resolu'd for death and dignitie
Old Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dreames proue trueWar. You were best to go to bed, and dreame againe,To keepe thee from the Tempest of the field
Old Clif. I am resolu'd to beare a greater storme,Then any thou canst coniure vp to day:And that Ile write vpon thy Burgonet,Might I but know thee by thy housed Badge
War. Now by my Fathers badge, old Neuils Crest,The rampant Beare chain'd to the ragged staffe,This day Ile weare aloft my Burgonet,As on a Mountaine top, the Cedar shewes,That keepes his leaues inspight of any storme,Euen to affright thee with the view thereof
Old Clif. And from thy Burgonet Ile rend thy Beare,And tread it vnder foot with all contempt,Despight the Bearard, that protects the Beare
Yo.Clif. And so to Armes victorious Father,To quell the Rebels, and their Complices
Rich. Fie, Charitie for shame, speake not in spight,For you shall sup with Iesu Christ to night
Yo.Clif. Foule stygmaticke that's more then thoucanst tell
Ric. If not in heauen, you'l surely sup in hell.
Exeunt.
Enter Warwicke.
War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwicke calles:And if thou dost not hide thee from the Beare,Now when the angrie Trumpet sounds alarum,And dead mens cries do fill the emptie ayre,Clifford I say, come forth and fight with me,Proud Northerne Lord, Clifford of Cumberland,Warwicke is hoarse with calling thee to armes.Enter Yorke.
War. How now my Noble Lord? What all a-foot
Yor. The deadly handed Clifford slew my Steed:But match to match I haue encountred him,And made a prey for Carrion Kytes and CrowesEuen of the bonnie beast he loued so well.Enter Clifford.
War. Of one or both of vs the time is come
Yor. Hold Warwick: seek thee out some other chaceFor I my selfe must hunt this Deere to death
War. Then nobly Yorke, 'tis for a Crown thou fightst:As I intend Clifford to thriue to day,It greeues my soule to leaue thee vnassail'd.
Exit War.
Clif. What seest thou in me Yorke?Why dost thou pause?Yorke. With thy braue bearing should I be in loue,But that thou art so fast mine enemie
Clif. Nor should thy prowesse want praise & esteeme,But that 'tis shewne ignobly, and in Treason
Yorke. So let it helpe me now against thy sword,As I in iustice, and true right expresse it
Clif. My soule and bodie on the action both
Yor. A dreadfull lay, addresse thee instantly
Clif. La fin Corrone les eumenes
Yor. Thus Warre hath giuen thee peace, for y art still,Peace with his soule, heauen if it be thy will.Enter yong Clifford.
Clif. Shame and Confusion all is on the rout,Feare frames disorder, and disorder woundsWhere it should guard. O Warre, thou sonne of hell,Whom angry heauens do make their minister,Throw in the frozen bosomes of our part,Hot Coales of Vengeance. Let no Souldier flye.He that is truly dedicate to Warre,Hath no selfe-loue: nor he that loues himselfe,Hath not essentially, but by circumstanceThe name of Valour. O let the vile world end,And the premised Flames of the Last day,Knit earth and heauen together.Now let the generall Trumpet blow his blast,Particularities, and pettie soundsTo cease. Was't thou ordain'd (deere Father)To loose thy youth in peace, and to atcheeueThe Siluer Liuery of aduised Age,And in thy Reuerence, and thy Chaire-dayes, thusTo die in Ruffian battell? Euen at this sight,My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine,It shall be stony. Yorke, not our old men spares:No more will I their Babes, Teares Virginall,Shall be to me, euen as the Dew to Fire,And Beautie, that the Tyrant oft reclaimes,Shall to my flaming wrath, be Oyle and Flax:Henceforth, I will not haue to do with pitty.Meet I an infant of the house of Yorke,Into as many gobbits will I cut itAs wilde Medea yong Absirtis did.In cruelty, will I seeke out my Fame.Come thou new ruine of olde Cliffords house:As did Aeneas old Anchyses beare,So beare I thee vpon my manly shoulders:But then, Aeneas bare a liuing loade;Nothing so heauy as these woes of mine.Enter Richard, and Somerset to fight.
Rich. So lye thou there:For vnderneath an Ale-house paltry signe,The Castle in S[aint]. Albons, SomersetHath made the Wizard famous in his death:Sword, hold thy temper; Heart, be wrathfull still:Priests pray for enemies, but Princes kill.
Fight. Excursions.
Enter King, Queene, and others.
Qu. Away my Lord, you are slow, for shame away
King. Can we outrun the Heauens? Good Margaretstay
Qu. What are you made of? You'l nor fight nor fly:Now is it manhood, wisedome, and defence,To giue the enemy way, and to secure vsBy what we can, which can no more but flye.
Alarum a farre off.
If you be tane, we then should see the bottomeOf all our Fortunes: but if we haply scape,(As well we may, if not through your neglect)We shall to London get, where you are lou'd,And where this breach now in our Fortunes madeMay readily be stopt.Enter Clifford.
Clif. But that my hearts on future mischeefe set,I would speake blasphemy ere bid you flye:But flye you must: Vncureable discomfiteReignes in the hearts of all our present parts.Away for your releefe, and we will liueTo see their day, and them our Fortune giue.Away my Lord, away.
Exeunt.
Alarum. Retreat. Enter Yorke, Richard, Warwicke, and Soldiers,with Drum &Colours.
Yorke. Of Salsbury, who can report of him,That Winter Lyon, who in rage forgetsAged contusions, and all brush of Time:And like a Gallant, in the brow of youth,Repaires him with Occasion. This happy dayIs not it selfe, nor haue we wonne one foot,If Salsbury be lost
Rich. My Noble Father:Three times to day I holpe him to his horse,Three times bestrid him: Thrice I led him off,Perswaded him from any further act:But still where danger was, still there I met him,And like rich hangings in a homely house,So was his Will, in his old feeble body,But Noble as he is, looke where he comes.Enter Salisbury.
Sal. Now by my Sword, well hast thou fought to day:By'th' Masse so did we all. I thanke you Richard.God knowes how long it is I haue to liue:And it hath pleas'd him that three times to dayYou haue defended me from imminent death.Well Lords, we haue not got that which we haue,'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,Being opposites of such repayring Nature
Yorke. I know our safety is to follow them,For (as I heare) the King is fled to London,To call a present Court of Parliament:Let vs pursue him ere the Writs go forth.What sayes Lord Warwicke, shall we after them?War. After them: nay before them if we can:Now by my hand (Lords) 'twas a glorious day.Saint Albons battell wonne by famous Yorke,Shall be eterniz'd in all Age to come.Sound Drumme and Trumpets, and to London all,And more such dayes as these, to vs befall.
Exeunt.