Say. You men of Kent
Dic. What say you of Kent
Say. Nothing but this: 'Tis bona terra, mala gens
Cade. Away with him, away with him, he speaks Latine
Say. Heare me but speake, and beare mee wher'e you
will:
Kent, in the Commentaries Cęsar writ,
Is term'd the ciuel'st place of all this Isle:
Sweet is the Country, because full of Riches,
The People Liberall, Valiant, Actiue, Wealthy,
Which makes me hope you are not void of pitty.
I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandie,
Yet to recouer them would loose my life:
Iustice with fauour haue I alwayes done,
Prayres and Teares haue mou'd me, Gifts could neuer.
When haue I ought exacted at your hands?
Kent to maintaine, the King, the Realme and you,
Large gifts haue I bestow'd on learned Clearkes,
Because my Booke preferr'd me to the King.
And seeing Ignorance is the curse of God,
Knowledge the Wing wherewith we flye to heauen.
Vnlesse you be possest with diuellish spirits,
You cannot but forbeare to murther me:
This Tongue hath parlied vnto Forraigne Kings
For your behoofe
Cade. Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?
Say. Great men haue reaching hands: oft haue I struck
Those that I neuer saw, and strucke them dead
Geo. O monstrous Coward! What, to come behinde
Folkes?
Say. These cheekes are pale for watching for your good
Cade. Giue him a box o'th' eare, and that wil make 'em
red againe
Say. Long sitting to determine poore mens causes,
Hath made me full of sicknesse and diseases
Cade. Ye shall haue a hempen Candle then, & the help
of hatchet
Dicke. Why dost thou quiuer man?
Say. The Palsie, and not feare prouokes me