Kent. Iden's Garden.
 Enter CADE.

Cade	Fie on ambitions! 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 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 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 quart-pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet' must 
	serve me to feed on.

                               Enter IDEN.

Iden	Lord, who would live turmoild in the court,
	And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
	This small inheritance my father left me
	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 pleasd from my gate.

Cade	[Aside.] Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a 
	stray for entering his fee simple without leave.
	[To IDEN.] Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me and get a 
	thousand crowns of the king by carrying my head to him; but 
	I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow 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,
	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 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 famished man.
	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 compard with this truncheon;
	My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast;
	And if mine arm be heavd in the air,
	Thy grave is digged already in the earth.
	As for words, whose greatness answers words,
	Let this my sword report what speech forbears.

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.
											[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'd defy them all. Wither, garden, 
	and be henceforth a burying place to all that do dwell in 
	this house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

Iden	Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
	Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed,
	And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead.
	Ne'er shall this blood be wipd from thy point,
	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 feared any, am vanquished by 
	famine, not by valour.
													[Dies.
Iden	How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.
	Die, damnd 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.
	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.
													[Exit.
