DICK.
And work in their shirt too; as myself, for example, that am a butcher.
SAYE.
You men of Kent—
DICK.
What say you of Kent?
SAYE.
Nothing but this; ’tis bona terra, mala gens.
CADE.
Away with him, away with him! He speaks Latin.
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
Kent to maintain the King, the realm, and you?
Large gifts have I bestowed on learned clerks,
Because my book preferred me to the King.
And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
Unless you be possessed with devilish spirits,
You cannot but forbear to murder me.
This tongue hath parleyed unto foreign kings
For your behoof—
CADE.
Tut, when struck’st thou one blow in the field?
SAYE.
Great men have reaching hands; oft have I struck
Those that I never saw, and struck them dead.
GEORGE.
O monstrous coward! What, to come behind folks?
SAYE.
These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.