Enter King Henry VI with a supplication, and the Queen with Suffolk's head, Buckingham and Lord Say
Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind, And makes it fearful and degenerate; Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep. But who can cease to weep and look on this? Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast: But where's the body that I should embrace?
I'll send some holy bishop to entreat; For God forbid so many simple souls Should perish by the sword! And I myself, Rather than bloody war shall cut them short, Will parley with Jack Cade their general: But stay, I'll read it over once again.
Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely face Ruled, like a wandering planet, over me, And could it not enforce them to relent, That were unworthy to behold the same?
How now, madam! Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death? I fear me, love, if that I had been dead, Thou wouldst not have mourn'd so much for me.
Enter a 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.
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
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.