| ACT IV SCENE VIII | Southwark. | |
| | Alarum and retreat. Enter CADE and all hisrabblement | |
| CADE | Up Fish Street! down Saint Magnus' Corner! Kill | |
| | and knock down! throw them into Thames! | |
| | Sound a parley | |
| | What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to | |
| | sound retreat or parley, when I command them kill? | 5 |
| | Enter BUCKINGHAM and CLIFFORD, attended | |
| BUCKINGHAM | Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee: | |
| | Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the king | |
| | Unto the commons whom thou hast misled; | |
| | And here pronounce free pardon to them all | |
| | That will forsake thee and go home in peace. | 10 |
| CLIFFORD | What say ye, countrymen? will ye relent, | |
| | And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you; | |
| | Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths? | |
| | Who loves the king and will embrace his pardon, | |
| | Fling up his cap, and say 'God save his majesty!' | 15 |
| | Who hateth him and honours not his father, | |
| | Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake, | |
| | Shake he his weapon at us and pass by. | |
| ALL | God save the king! God save the king! | |
| CADE | What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave? And | 20 |
| | you, base peasants, do ye believe him? will you | |
| | needs be hanged with your pardons about your necks? | |
| | Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates, | |
| | that you should leave me at the White Hart in | |
| | Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out | 25 |
| | these arms till you had recovered your ancient | |
| | freedom: but you are all recreants and dastards, | |
| | and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. Let | |
| | them break your backs with burthens, take your | |
| | houses over your heads, ravish your wives and | 30 |
| | daughters before your faces: for me, I will make | |
| | shift for one; and so, God's curse light upon you | |
| | all! | |
| ALL | We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade! | |
| CLIFFORD | Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth, | 35 |
| | That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him? | |
| | Will he conduct you through the heart of France, | |
| | And make the meanest of you earls and dukes? | |
| | Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to; | |
| | Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil, | 40 |
| | Unless by robbing of your friends and us. | |
| | Were't not a shame, that whilst you live at jar, | |
| | The fearful French, whom you late vanquished, | |
| | Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you? | |
| | Methinks already in this civil broil | 45 |
| | I see them lording it in London streets, | |
| | Crying 'Villiago!' unto all they meet. | |
| | Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry | |
| | Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. | |
| | To France, to France, and get what you have lost; | 50 |
| | Spare England, for it is your native coast; | |
| | Henry hath money, you are strong and manly; | |
| | God on our side, doubt not of victory. | |
| ALL | A Clifford! a Clifford! we'll follow the king and Clifford. | |
| CADE | Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this | 55 |
| | multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them | |
| | to an hundred mischiefs, and makes them leave me | |
| | desolate. I see them lay their heads together to | |
| | surprise me. My sword make way for me, for here is | |
| | no staying. In despite of the devils and hell, have | 60 |
| | through the very middest of you? and heavens and | |
| | honour be witness, that no want of resolution in me. | |
| | but only my followers' base and ignominious | |
| | treasons, makes me betake me to my heels. | |
| | Exit | |
| BUCKINGHAM | What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him; | 65 |
| | And he that brings his head unto the king | |
| | Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward. | |
| | Exeunt some of them | |
| | Follow me, soldiers: we'll devise a mean | |
| | To reconcile you all unto the king. | |
| | Exeunt | |
Sign up for the 
