Enter a Messenger.
KING HENRY.
How now, what news? Why com’st thou in such haste?
MESSENGER.
The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my lord!
Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,
Descended from the Duke of Clarence’ house,
And calls your grace usurper openly,
And vows to crown himself in Westminster.
His army is a ragged multitude
Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless.
Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother’s death
Hath given them heart and courage to proceed.
All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,
They call false caterpillars, and intend their death.
KING HENRY.
O graceless men! They know not what they do.
BUCKINGHAM.
My gracious lord, retire to Killingworth
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 traitors hate thee;
Therefore away with us to Killingworth.
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.
MESSENGER.
Jack Cade hath 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.