Killingworth, in Warwickshire, leaving only behind him the Lord Scales, to keep the Tower of London. The captain, being advertised of the king's absence, came first into Southwark, and there lodged at the White Hart, prohibiting to all men murder, rape, or robbery; by which colour he allured to him the hearts of the common people. But after that he entered into London, and cut the ropes of the drawbridge, striking his sword on London stone, saying, Now is Mortimer lord of this city,' and rode in every street like a lordly captain. And after a flattering declaration made to the mayor of the city of his thither coming, he departed again into Southwark. And upon the third day of July he caused Sir James Fines, Lord Say, and Treasurer of England, to be brought to the Guildhall of London, and there to be arraigned; which, being before the king's justices put to answer, desired to be tried by his peers, for the longer delay of his life. The captain, perceiving his dilatory plea, by force took him from the officers and brought him to the standard in Cheap, and there, before his confession ended, caused his head to be cut off, and pitched it on a high pole, which was openly borne before him through the streets. And this cruel tyrant, not content with the murder of the Lord Say, went to Mile-end, and there apprehended Sir James Cromer, then Sheriff of Kent, and son-in-law to the said Lord Say, and him, without confession or excuse heard, caused there likewise to be beheaded, and his head fixed on a pole, and with these two heads this bloody butcher entered into the city again, and in despite caused them in every street kiss together, to the great detestation of all the beholders.

"After this shameful murder succeeded open rapine and manifest robbery in divers houses within the city, and in especial in the house of Philip Malpas, alderman of London, and divers other: over and beside ransoming and fining of divers notable merchants, for the tuition and security of their lives and goods; as Robert Horne, alderman, which paid v C marks, and yet neither he or no other person was either of life or substance in a surety or safeguard. He also put to execution in Southwark, divers persons, some for infringing his rules and precepts, because he would be seen indifferent; other he tormented of his old acquaintance, lest they should blase and declare his base birth and low lineage, disparaging him from his usurped name of Mortimer; for the which he thought, and doubted not, both to have friends and fautors both in London, Kent, and Essex. The wise mayor and sage magistrates of the city of London, perceiving themselves neither to be sure of goods nor of life well warranted, determined with fear to repell and expulse this mischievous head and his ungracious company. And because the Lord Scales was ordained keeper of the Tower of London, with Mathew Gough, the often-named captain in Normandy (as you have heard before), they purposed to make them privy both of their intent and enterprise. The Lord Scales promised them his aid, with shooting of ordinance; and Mathew Gough was by him appointed to assist the mayor and the Londoners, because he was both of manhood and experience greatly renowned and noised. So the captains of the city appointed took upon them in the night to keep the bridge of London, prohibiting the Kentishmen either to pass or approach. The rebels, which

never soundly slept for fear of sudden chances, hearing the bridge to be kept and manned, ran with great haste to open their passage, where between both parties was a fierce and cruel encounter. Mathew Gough, more expert in martial feats than the other chieftains of the city, perceiving the Kentishmen better to stand to their tackling than his imagination expected, advised his company no further to proceed toward Southwark till the day appeared; to the intent that the citizens, hearing where the place of the jeopardy rested, might occur their enemies and relieve their friends and companions. But this counsel came to small effect, for the multitude of the rebels drove the citizens from the stoulps at the bridge foot to the drawbridge, and began to set fire in divers houses. Alas! what sorrow it was to behold that miserable chance; for some, desiring to eschew the fire, leapt on his enemy's weapon, and so died: fearful women, with children in their arms, amazed and appalled, leapt into the river; other, doubting how to save themselves between fire, water, and sword, were in their houses suffocated and smouldered. Yet the captains, nothing regarding these chances, fought on the drawbridge all the night valiantly; but, in conclusion, the rebels got the drawbridge, and drowned many, and slew John Sutton, alderman, and Robert Heysand, a hardy citizen, with many other, beside Matthew Gough, a man of great wit, much experience in feats of chivalry, the which in continual wars had valiantly served the king and his father in the part beyond the sea (as before ye have heard). But it is often seen that he which many times had vanquished his enemies in strange countries, and returned again as a conqueror, hath of his own nation afterward been shamefully murdered and brought to confusion. This hard and sore conflict endured on the bridge till ix of the clock in the morning, in doubtful chance and fortune's balance. For some time the Londoners were beat back to the stoulps at Saint Magnes corner, and suddenly again the rebels were repulsed and driven back to the stoulps in Southwark; so that both parties, being faint, weary, and fatigued, agreed to desist from fight, and to leave battle till the next day, upon condition that neither Londoners should pass into Southwark nor the Kentishmen into London.

"After this abstinence of war agreed, the lusty Kentish captain, hoping on more friends, brake up the gaols of the King's Bench and Marshalsea, and set at liberty a swarm of galants, both meet for his service and apt for his enterprise. The Archbishop of Canterbury, being then Chancellor of England, and for his surety lying in the Tower of London, called to him the Bishop of Winchester, which also for fear lurked at Haly well. These two prelates, seeing the fury of the Kentish people, by reason of their beating back, to be mitigated and minished, passed the river of Thames from the Tower into Southwark, bringing with them, under the king's seal, a general pardon unto all the offenders; which they caused to be openly proclaimed and published. Lord! how glad the poor people were of this pardon (yea, more than of the great Jubilee of Rome), and how they accepted the same, in so much that the whole multitude, without bidding farewell to their captain, retired the same night, every man to his own home, as men amazed

and stricken with fear. But John Cade, desperate of succours, which by the friends of the Duke of York were to him promised, and seeing his company thus without his knowledge suddenly depart, mistrusting the sequel of the matter, departed secretly, in habit disguised, into Sussex; but all his metamorphosis and transfiguration little prevailed, for after a proclamation made that whosoever could apprehend the said Jack Cade should have for his pain a M marks, many sought for him but few espied him, till one Alexander Iden, esquire of Kent, found him in a garden, and there, in his defence, manfully slew the caitiff Cade, and brought his dead body to London, whose head was set on London bridge."

We may add that the following curious entry is found in the Issue Roll, 29th Henry VI. :

"To Alexander EDEN, Sheriff of Kent, and to divers other persons of the same county. In money paid to them, viz., by the hands of Gervase Clifton, 100l. and by John Seynder, 166. 138. 4d., in part payment of 1000 marks, which the Lord the King commanded to be paid to the same Alexander and others, as well for taking JOHN CADE, an Irishman, calling himself John Mortymer, a great rebel, enemy, and traitor to the King, as also for conducting the person of John Cade to the Council of the King, after proclamation thereof made in London, to be had of his gift for their pains in the matter aforesaid.

"By writ of privy seal amongst the mandates of this term (Easter), 266l. 138. 4d."

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. 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 a while,
Till Henry be more weak, and I more strong.—
[All the preceding is spoken aside.
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 part :

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

powers.

Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,
You shall have pay, and everything 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, anything I have
Is his to use, so Somerset may die.

Buck. York, I commend this kind submission:

We twain will go into his highness' tent.

Enter KING HENRY, attended.

K. Hen. Buckingham, doth York intend no

harm to us,

That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?
York. In all submission and humility,
York doth present himself unto your highness.
K. Hen. Then what intend these forces thou
dost bring?

York. To heave the traitor Somerset from

hence;

And fight against that monstrous rebel, Cade, 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,
The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.

K. Hen. The head of Cade?-Great God, how 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
him?

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 kneels.]
Rise up a knight.

We give thee for reward a thousand marks;
And will that thou henceforth attend on us.

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 his head,

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 J'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 ;

[Exit an Attendant. I know, ere they will have me go to ward, They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchise

ment.

Q. Mar. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain, [Exit BUCKINGHAM. To say, if that the bastard boys of York Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

York. O blood-bespotted 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 PLANTAGENET,

with Forces, at one side; at the other, with Forces also, Old CLIFFORD 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 king! [Kneels.

York. I thank thee, Clifford: Say, what news with thee?

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. Hen. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour

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?

El. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve. Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons shall.

A He probably points to his sons, who are waiting without: or, it may be, to his troops.

Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!

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.

Drums. Enter WARWICK and SALISBURY, with Forces.

Clif. Are these thy bears? we 'll bait thy bears to death,

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 lump,

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 to bow?

Old Salisbury,-shame to thy silver hair,
Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!--
What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruf-

fian,

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?
For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me,
That bows unto the grave with mickle age.

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
me?

Sal. I have.

K. Hen. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?

a The bear and ragged staff was the cognizance of the Nevils. See, in this scene, Warwick's speech.