| ACT IV SCENE X | Kent. IDEN's garden. | |
| | Enter CADE | |
| CADE | Fie on ambition! fie on myself, that have a sword, | |
| | and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I | |
| | hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for | |
| | all the country is laid for me; but now am I so | 5 |
| | hungry that if I might have a lease of my life for a | |
| | thousand years I could stay no longer. Wherefore, | |
| | on a brick wall have I climbed into this garden, to | |
| | see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet another | |
| | while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach | 10 |
| | this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet' | |
| | was born to do me good: for many a time, but for a | |
| | sallet, my brainpan had been cleft with a brown | |
| | bill; and many a time, when I have been dry and | |
| | bravely marching, it hath served me instead of a | 15 |
| | quart pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet' | |
| | must serve me to feed on. | |
| | Enter IDEN | |
| IDEN | Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court, | |
| | And may enjoy such quiet walks as these? | |
| | This small inheritance my father left me | 20 |
| | Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy. | |
| | I seek not to wax great by others' waning, | |
| | Or gather wealth, I care not, with what envy: | |
| | Sufficeth that I have maintains my state | |
| | And sends the poor well pleased from my gate. | 25 |
| CADE | Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a | |
| | stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave. | |
| | Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand | |
| | crowns of the king carrying my head to him: but | |
| | I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow | 30 |
| | my sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part. | |
| IDEN | Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be, | |
| | I know thee not; why, then, should I betray thee? | |
| | Is't not enough to break into my garden, | |
| | And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds, | 35 |
| | Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner, | |
| | But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms? | |
| CADE | Brave thee! ay, by the best blood that ever was | |
| | broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I | |
| | have eat no meat these five days; yet, come thou and | 40 |
| | thy five men, and if I do not leave you all as dead | |
| | as a doornail, I pray God I may never eat grass more. | |
| IDEN | Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands, | |
| | That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent, | |
| | Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man. | 45 |
| | Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine, | |
| | See if thou canst outface me with thy looks: | |
| | Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser; | |
| | Thy hand is but a finger to my fist, | |
| | Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon; | 50 |
| | My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast; | |
| | And if mine arm be heaved in the air, | |
| | Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth. | |
| | As for words, whose greatness answers words, | |
| | Let this my sword report what speech forbears. | 55 |
| CADE | By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I | |
| | heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out | |
| | the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou | |
| | sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou | |
| | mayst be turned to hobnails. | 60 |
| | Here they fight. CADE falls | |
| | O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain me: | |
| | let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me | |
| | but the ten meals I have lost, and I'll defy them | |
| | all. Wither, garden; and be henceforth a | |
| | burying-place to all that do dwell in this house, | 65 |
| | because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled. | |
| IDEN | Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor? | |
| | Sword, I will hollow thee for this thy deed, | |
| | And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead: | |
| | Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point; | 70 |
| | But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat, | |
| | To emblaze the honour 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 never | 75 |
| | feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour. | |
| | Dies | |
| IDEN | How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge. | |
| | 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 soul to hell. | 80 |
| | Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels | |
| | Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave, | |
| | And there cut off thy most ungracious head; | |
| | Which I will bear in triumph to the king, | |
| | Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. | 85 |
| | Exit | |
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