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 power Of 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 thee The Duke of Somerset, whom he tearmes a Traitor
King. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and Yorke distrest, 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.
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