circuit on my head, Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams, Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw. And,
for a minister of my intent, I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman, John Cade of Ashford, To make
commotion, as full well he can, Under the title of John Mortimer. In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade Oppose
himself against a troop of kerns, And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts Were almost like a sharp-
quill'd porpentine; And, in the end being rescued, I have seen Him caper upright like a wild Morisco, Shaking
the bloody darts as he his bells. Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kern, Hath he conversed with the enemy, And
undiscover'd come to me again And given me notice of their villanies. This devil here shall be my substitute; For
that John Mortimer, which now is dead, In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble: By this I shall perceive
the commons' mind, How they affect the house and claim of York. Say he be taken, rack'd and tortured, I
know no pain they can inflict upon him Will make him say I moved him to those arms. Say that he thrive,
as 'tis great like he will, Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength And reap the harvest which that
rascal sow'd; For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, And Henry put apart, the next for me.