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 heeles Vnto 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 bright To 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

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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