O, graceless men; they know not what they do.

BUCKINGHAM

My gracious lord, retire to Kenilworth

Until a power be raised to put them down.

QUEEN MARGARET

Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive

These Kentish rebels would be soon appeased!

KING HENRY

Lord Saye, the trait’rous rabble hateth thee—

Therefore away with us to Kenilworth.

SAYE

So might your grace’s person be in danger.

The sight of me is odious in their eyes,

And therefore in this city will I stay

And live alone as secret as I may.

Enter another Messenger

SECOND MESSENGER (to King Henry)

Jack Cade hath almost gotten London Bridge;

The citizens fly and forsake their houses;

The rascal people, thirsting after prey,

Join with the traitor; and they jointly swear

To spoil the city and your royal court.

BUCKINGHAM (to King Henry)

Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse!

KING HENRY

Come, Margaret. God, our hope, will succour us.

QUEEN MARGARET ⌈aside⌉

My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceased.

KING HENRY (to Saye)

Farewell, my lord. Trust not the Kentish rebels.

BUCKINGHAM (to Saye)

Trust nobody, for fear you be betrayed.

SAYE

The trust I have is in mine innocence,

And therefore am I bold and resolute.

Exeunt ⌈Saye at one door, the rest at another⌉

4.5 Enter the Lord Scales upon the Tower, walking. Enter three or four Citizens below

SCALES How now? Is Jack Cade slain?

FIRST CITIZEN No, my lord Scales, nor likely to be slain, for he and his men have won the bridge, killing all those that did withstand them. The Lord Mayor craveth aid of your honour from the Tower to defend the city from the rebels.

SCALES

Such aid as I can spare you shall command,

But I am troubled here with them myself.

The rebels have essayed to win the Tower.

Get you to Smithfield, there to gather head,

And thither will I send you Matthew Gough.

Fight for your king, your country, and your lives!

And so, farewell, for I must hence again.

Exeunt, Scales above, the Citizens below

4.6 Enter Jack Cade, the Weaver, the Butcher, and the rest. Cade strikes his sword on London Stone

CADE Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And, here sitting upon London Stone, I charge and command that, of the city’s cost, the Pissing Conduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign. And now henceforward it shall be treason for any that calls me otherwise than Lord Mortimer.

Enter a Soldier, running

SOLDIER Jack Cade, Jack Cade!

CADE Zounds, knock him down there! They kill him

BUTCHER If this fellow be wise, he’ll never call ye Jack Cade more; I think he hath a very fair warning. ⌈He takes a paper from the soldier’s body and reads it⌉ My lord, there’s an army gathered together in Smithfield.

CADE Come then, let’s go fight with them—but first, go on and set London Bridge afire, and, if you can, burn down the Tower too. Come, let’s away. Exeunt

4.7 Alarums. ⌈Excursions, wherein⌉ Matthew Gough is slain, and all the rest of his men with him. Then enter Jack Cade with his company, among them the Butcher, the Weaver, and John, a rebel

CADE So, sirs, now go some and pull down the Savoy; others to th’ Inns of Court—down with them all.

BUTCHER I have a suit unto your lordship.

CADE Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.

BUTCHER Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.

JOHN (aside to his fellows) Mass, ‘twill be sore law then, for he was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and ’tis not whole yet.

WEAVER (aside to John) Nay, John, it will be stinking law, for his breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.

CADE I have thought upon it—it shall be so. Away! Burn all the records of the realm. My mouth shall be the Parliament of England.

JOHN (aside to his fellows) Then we are like to have biting statutes unless his teeth be pulled out.

CADE And henceforward all things shall be in common. Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER My lord, a prize, a prize! Here’s the Lord Saye which sold the towns in France. He that made us pay one-and-twenty fifteens and one shilling to the pound the last subsidy.

Enter a rebel with the Lord Saye

CADE Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. (To Saye) Ah, thou say, thou serge—nay, thou buckram lord! Now art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer to my majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the Dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school; and, whereas before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used and, contrary to the King his crown and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed justices of peace to call poor men before them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou hast put them in prison, and, because they could not read, thou hast hanged them when indeed only for that cause they have been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride on a foot-cloth, dost thou not?

SAYE What of that?

CADE Marry, thou ought’st not to let thy horse wear a cloak when honester men than thou go in their hose and doublets.

BUTCHER And work in their shirts, too; as myself, for example, that am a butcher.

SAYE You men of Kent.

BUTCHER What say you of Kent?

SAYE

Nothing but this—’tis bona terra, mala gens.

CADE Bonum terrum—zounds, what’s that?

BUTCHER He speaks French.

⌈first REBEL⌉ No, ’tis Dutch.

SECOND REBEL⌉ No, ’tis Out-talian, I know it well enough.

SAYE

Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.

Kent, in the commentaries Caesar writ,

Is termed the civil’st place of all this isle;

Sweet is the country, because full of riches;

The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy;

Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.

I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy;

Yet to recover them would lose my life.

Justice with favour have I always done,

Prayers and tears have moved me—gifts could never.

When have I aught exacted at your hands,