Cade. Now is Mortimer Lord of this City,
And heere sitting vpon London Stone,
I charge and command, that of the Cities cost
The pissing Conduit run nothing but Clarret Wine
This first yeare of our raigne.
And now henceforward it shall be Treason for any,
That calles me other then Lord Mortimer.
Enter a Soldier running.

Soul. Iacke Cade, Iacke Cade

Cade. Knocke him downe there.

They kill him.

But. If this Fellow be wise, hee'l neuer call yee Iacke
Cade more, I thinke he hath a very faire warning

Dicke. My Lord, there's an Army gathered together
in Smithfield

Cade. Come, then let's go fight with them:
But first, go and set London Bridge on fire,
And if you can, burne downe the Tower too.
Come, let's away.

Exeunt. omnes.

Alarums. Mathew Goffe is slain, and all the rest. Then enter Iacke