THE REIGN OF KING EDWARD the third: As it hath been sundry times played about the City of London.  
LONDON, Printed for Cuthbert Burby. 1596.   

THE REIGN OF K: Edward the third.  Enter King Edward, Derby, Prince Edward, Audely and Artoys. King. 
RObert of Artoys banished though thou be,  
From France thy native Country, yet with us,  
Thou shalt retain as great a Signiory:  
For we create thee Earl of Richmond here,  
And now go forwards with our pedigree,  
Who next succeeded Philip of Bew,  Ar. 
Three sons of his, which all successfully,  
Did sit upon their fathers' regal Throne:  
Yet died and left no issue of their loins:  King: 
But was my mother sister unto those:  Art: 
she was my Lord, and only Isabel,  
Was all the daughters that this Philip had,  
Whom afterward your father took to wife:  
And from the fragrant garden of her womb,  
Your gracious self the flower of Europe's hope:  
Derived is inheritor to France.  
But not the rancour of rebellious minds:  
When thus the lineage of Bew was out;  
The French obscured your mother's Privilege,  
And though she were the next of blood, proclaimed  
john of the house of Valois now their king:  
The reason was, they say the Realm of France,  
replete with Princes of great parentage,  
Ought not admit a governor to rule,  
Except he be descended of the male,  
And that's the special ground of their contempt:  
Where with they study to exclude your grace:  
But they shall find that forged ground of theirs,  
To be but dusty heaps, of brittle sand.  Art: 
Perhaps it will be thought a heinous thing,  
That I a French man should discover this,  
But heaven I call to record of my vows,  
It is not hate nor any private wrong,  
But love unto my country and the right,  
Provokes my tongue thus lavish in report.  
You are the lineal watch men of our peace,  
And john of Valois, in directly climbs,  
What then should subjects but embrace their King,  
Ah where in may our duty more be seen,  
Then striving to rebate a tyrant's pride,  
And place the true shepherd of our commonwealth,  King: 
This counsel Artoyes like to fruitful showers,  
Hath added growth unto my dignity,  
And by the fiery vigour of thy words,  
Hot courage is engendered in my breast,  
Which heretofore was raked in ignorance,  
But now doth mount with golden wings of fame,  
And will approve fair Isabel's descent,  
Able to yoke their stubborn necks with steel,  
That spurn against my sovereignty in France. sound a horn  
A messenger, Lord Awdley know from whence,  Enter a messenger Lorragne, Aud: 
The Duke of Lorraine, having crossed the seas,  
In treats he may have conference with your highness.  King: 
Admit him Lords, that we may hear the news.  
Say Duke of Lorraine wherefore art thou come.  Lor: 
The most renowned prince K. john of France,  
Doth greet thee Edward, and by me commands,  
That for so much as by his liberal gift,  
The Guyen Dukedom is entailed to thee,  
Thou do him lowly homage for the same.  
And for that purpose here I summon thee,  
Repair to France within these forty days,  
That there according as the custom is.  
Thou mayst be sworn true liegeman to our King,  
Or else thy title in that province dies,  
And he himself will repossess the place.  K. Ed: 
See how occasion laughs me in the face,  
No sooner minded to prepare for France,  
But straight I am invited, nay with threats,  
Upon a penalty enjoined to come:  
'twere but a childish part to say him nay,  
Lorraine return this answer to thy Lord,  
I mean to visit him as he requests,  
But how? not servilely disposed to bend,  
But like a conqueror to make him bow,  
His lame unpolished shifts are come to light,  
And truth hath pulled the wizard from his face,  
That set a glass upon his arrogance,  
Dare he command a fealty in me,  
Tell him the Crown that he usurps, is mine,  
And where he sets his foot he ought to kneel,  
'tis not a petty Dukedom that I claim,  
But all the whole Dominions, of the Realm,  
Which if with grudging he refuse to yield,  
I'll take away those borrowed plumes of his,  
And send him naked to the wilderness.  Lor: 
Then Edward here in spite of all thy Lords,  
I do pronounce defiance to thy face.  Pri: 
Defiance French man we rebound it back,  
Even to the bottom of thy master's throat,  
And be it spoke with reverence of the King,  
My gracious father and these other Lords,  
I hold thy message but as scurrilous,  
And him that sent thee like the lazy drone,  
Crept up by stealth unto the eagle's nest,  
From whence we'll shake him with so rough a storm,  
As others shallbe warned by his harm,  War: 
Bid him leave of the lions case he wears,  
lest meeting with the Lion in the field,  
He chance to tear him piecemeal for his pride.  Art: 
The soundest counsel I can give his grace,  
Is to surrender ere he be constrained.  
A voluntary mischief hath less scorn,  
Then when reproach with violence is borne,  Lor. 
Regenerate Traitor, viper to the place,  
Where thou was fostered in thine infancy:  
Bearest thou a part in this conspiracy?  He draws his Sword. K. Ed. 
Lorraine behold the sharpness of this steel:  
Fervent desire that sits against my heart,  
Is far more thorny pricking than this blade.  
That with the nightingale I shall be scared:  
As oft as I dispose myself to rest,  
Until my colours be displayed in France:  
This is thy final Answer, so be gone.  Lor. 
It is not that nor any English brave,  
Afflicts me so, as doth his poisoned view,  
That is most false, should most of all be true.  K. Ed. 
Now Lord our fleeting Bark is under sail:  
Our gage is thrown, and war is soon began,  
But not so quickly brought unto an end.  Enter Mountague. Moun. 
But wherefore comes Sir william Montague?  
How stands the league between the Scot and us?  Mo. 
Cracked and dissevered my renowned Lord:  
The treacherous King no sooner was informed,  
Of your with drawing of your army back:  
But straight forgetting of his former oath,  
He made invasion on the bordering Towns:  
Berwick is won, Newcastle spoiled and lost,  
And now the tyrant hath begirt with siege,  
The Castle of Rocksborough, where enclosed,  
The Countess Salisbury is like to perish:  King. 
That is thy daughter Warwick is it not?  
Whose husband hath in Britain served so long,  
About the planting of Lord Mouneford there?  War. 
It is my Lord.  Ki: 
Ignoble David hast thou none to grieve,  
But silly Ladies with thy threatening arms:  
But I will make you shrink your snaily horns,  
First therefore Audley this shallbe thy charge,  
Go levy footmen for our wars in France;  
And Ned take muster of our men at arms,  
In every shire elect a several band,  
Let them be Soldiers of a lusty spirit,  
Such as dread nothing but dishonours blot,  
Be wary therefore since we do commence,  
A famous War, and with so mighty a nation:  
Derby be thou Ambassador for us,  
Unto our Father in Law the Earl of Henalt:  
Make him acquainted with our enterprise,  
And likewise will him with our own allies,  
That are in Flanders, to solicit to,  
The Emperor of Almaigne in our name:  
Myself whilst you are jointly thus employed,  
Will with these forces that I have at hand,  
March, and once more repulse the traitorous Scot:  
But Sirs be resolute, we shall have wars  
On every side, and Ned, thou must begin,  
Now to forget thy study and thy books,  
And ire thy shoulders to an Armours weight.  Pr. 
As cheerful sounding to my youthful spleen,  
This tumult is of wars increasing broils,  
As at the Coronation of a king,  
The joyful clamours of the people are,  
When Ave Cesar they pronounce aloud;  
Within this school of honour I shall learn,  
Either to sacrifice my foes to death,  
Or in a rightful quarrel spend my breath,  
Then cheerfully forward each a several way,  
In great affairs 'tis nought to use delay.  Exunt. Enter the Countess. 
Alas how much in vain my poor eyes gaze,  
For succour that my sovereign should send;  
A cousin Montague, I fear thou wants,  
The lively spirit sharply to solicit,  
With vehement suit the king in my behalf:  
Thou dost not tell him what a grief it is,  
To be the scornful captive to a Scot,  
Either to be wooed with broad untuned oaths,  
Or forced by rough insulting barbarism:  
Thou dost not tell him if he here prevail,  
How much they will deride us in the North,  
And in their vild uncivil skipping gigs,  
Bray forth their Conquest, and our overthrow,  
Even in the barren, bleak and fruitless air,  Enter David and Douglas, Lorraine. 
I must withdraw, the everlasting so,  
Comes to the wall, I'll closely step aside,  
And list their babble blunt and full of pride.  K. Da: 
My Lord of Lorraine, to our brother of France,  
Commend us as the man in Christendom,  
That we must reverence and entirely love,  
Touching your embassage, return and say,  
That we with England will not enter parley,  
Nor never make fair wether, or take truce,  
But burn their neighbour towns and so persist  
With eager Rods beyond their City York,  
And never shall our bonny rider's rest:  
Nor rust in canker, have the time to eat,  
Their light borne snaffles, nor their nimble spu  
Nor lay aside their jacks of Gymould mail,  
Nor hang their staves of grained Scottish ash,  
In peaceful wise, upon their City walls,  
Nor from their buttoned tawny leathern belts,  
Dismiss their biting whinyards, till your King,  
Cry out enough, spare England now for pity,  
Farewell, and tell him that you leave us hear,  
Before this Castle, say you came from us,  
Even when we had that yielded to our hands,  Lor: 
take my leave and fairly will return  
Your acceptable greeting to my king.  Exit Lor. K. WORSER: 
Now Douglas to our former task again,  
For the division of this certain spoil.  Dou: 
My liege I crave the Lady and no more,  King. 
Nay soft ye sir, first I must make my choice,  
And first I do bespeak her for myself,  Da. 
Why then my liege let me enjoy her jewels,  King. 
Those are her own still liable to her,  
And who inherits her, hath those with all.  Enter a Scot in haste. Mes: 
My liege, as we were pricking on the hills,  
To fetch in booty, marching hitherward,  
We might descry a mighty host of men,  
The Sun reflecting on the armour showed,  
A field of plate, a wood of picks advanced:  
Bethink your highness speedily herein,  
An easy march within four hours will bring,  
The hindmost rank, unto this place my liege.  King: 
Dislodge, dislodge, it is the king of England.  Dug: 
jemmy my man, saddle my bonny black.  King: 
Meanst thou to fight, Douglas we are too weak.  Du:: 
I know it well my liege, and therefore fly.  Count 
My Lords of Scotland will ye stay and drink:  King: 
She mocks at us Douglas, I cannot endure it.  Count, 
Say good my Lord, which is he must have the Lady,  
And which her jewels, I am sure my Lords  
Ye will not hence, till you have shared the spoils.  King: 
she heard the messenger, and heard our talk.  
And now that comfort makes her scorn at us.  Another messenger. Mes: 
Arm my good Lord, O we are all surprised.  
After the French ambassador my liege,  
And tell him that you dare not ride to York,  
Excuse it that your bonny horse is lame.  K. 
He heard that to, intolerable grief:  
Woman farewell although I do not stay.  Exunt Scots. Count: 
'tis not for fear, and yet you run away,  
O happy comfort welcome to our house,  
The confident and boisterous boasting Scot,  
That swore before my walls they would not back,  
For all the armed power of this land,  
With faceless fear that ever turns his back:  
Turned hence again the blasting north-east wind:  
Upon the bare report and name of Arms.  Enter Mountague. Mo: 
O summers day, see where my cousin comes:  
How fares my Aunt? we are not Scots,  
Why do you shut your gates against your friends?  Co: 
Well may I give a welcome cousin to thee:  
For thou comest well to chase my foes from hence.  Mo: 
The king himself is come in person hither:  
Dear Aunt descend and gratulate his highness.  Co: 
How may I entertain his Majesty,  
To show my duty, and his dignity.  Enter king Edward, Warwick, Artoyes, with others. K. Ed: 
What are the stealing Foxes fled and gone  
Before we could uncouple at their heels.  War: 
They are my liege, but with a cheerful cry,  
Hot hounds and hardy chase them at the heels.  Enter Countess. K. Ed: 
This is the Countess Warwick, is it not.  War: 
even she liege, whose beauty tyrant's fear,  
As a May blossom with pernicious winds,  
Hath sullied, withered overcast and done.  K. Ed: 
Hath she been fairer Warwick than she is?  War: 
My gracious King, fair is she not at all,  
If that herself were by to stain herself,  
As I have seen her when she was herself.  K. Ed: 
What strange enchantment lurk in those her eyes?  
When they excelled this excellence they have,  
That now her dim decline hath power to draw,  
My subject eyes from piercing majesty,  
To gaze on her with doting admiration.  Count: 
In duty lower than the ground I kneel,  
And for my dull knees bow my feeling heart,  
To witness my obedience to your highness,  
With many millions of a subjects thanks.  
For this your Royal presence, whose approach,  
Hath driven war and danger from my gate.  K. 
Lady stand up, I come to bring thee peace,  
however thereby I have purchased war.  Co: 
No war to you my liege, the Scots are gone,  
And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate,  
lest yielding here, I pine in shameful love:  
Come we'll pursue the Scots, Artoyes away.  Co: 
A little while my gracious sovereign stay,  
And let the power of a mighty king  
Honour our roof: my husband in the wars,  
When he shall hear it will triumph for joy.  
Then dear my liege, now niggard not thy state,  
Being at the wall, enter our homely gate.  King. 
Pardon me cOUNTESS, I will come no near,  
I dreamed tonight of treason and I fear.  Co: 
Far from this place let ugly treason lie.  K: 
No farther off, than her conspiring eye,  
Which shoots infected poison in my heart.  
Beyond repulse of wit or cure of Art.  
Now in the Sun alone it doth not lie,  
With light to take light, from a mortal eye.  
For here today stars that mine eyes would see,  
More than the Sun steals mine own light from me:  
Contemplative desire, desire to be,  
In contemplation that may master thee.  
Warwick, Artoys, to horse and let's away.  Co: 
What might I speak to make my sovereign stay?  King: 
What needs a tongue to such a speaking eye,  
That more persuades then winning Oratory.  Co: 
Let not thy presence like the April sun,  
Flatter our earth, and suddenly be done:  
More happy do not make our outward wall,  
Than thou wilt grace our inner house withal,  
Our house my liege is like a Country swain,  
Whose habitude, and manners blunt and plain,  
Presageth nought yet inly beautified,  
With bounties riches; and fair hidden pride:  
For where the golden Ore doth buried lie,  
The ground undecked with nature's tapestry,  
Seems barren, sere, unfertile, fruitless dry,  
And where the upper turf of earth doth boast,  
His pride perfumes, and party coloured cost,  
Delve there, and find this issue and their pride,  
To spring from ordure, and corruptions side:  
But to make up my all to long compare,  
These ragged walls no testomie are,  
What is within, but like a cloak doth hide,  
From weather's West, the under garnished pride:  
More gracious than my terms can let thee be,  
Entreat thyself to stay a while with me.  King 
As wise as fair, what fond fit can be heard,  
When wisdom keeps the gate as beauty's guard,  
Countess, albeit my business urgeth me,  
It shall attend, while I attend on thee:  
Come on my Lords, here will I host tonight.  Exeunt. Lor: 
I might perceive his eye in her eye lost,  
His care to drink her sweet tongue's utterance,  
And changing passion like inconstant clouds:  
That rack upon the carriage of the winds,  
Increase and die in his disturbed cheeks:  
Lo when she blushed, even then did he look pale,  
As if her cheeks by some enchanted power,  
Attracted had the cherry blood from his,  
A none with reverent fear, when she grew pale,  
His cheek put on their scarlet ornaments,  
But no more like her orient all red,  
Than Brick to Coral, or live things to dead,  
Why did he then thus counterfeit her looks,  
If she did blush 'twas tender modest shame,  
Being in the sacred present of a King.  
If he did blush, 'twas red immodest shame,  
To wail his eyes amiss being a king:  
If she looked pale, 'twas silly woman's fear,  
To bear herself in presence of a king:  
If he looked pale, it was with guilty fear,  
To dote a miss being a mighty king,  
Then Scottish wars farewell, I fear 'twill prove  
A lingering English siege of peevish love,  
Here comes his highness walking all alone.  Enter King Edward. King: 
she is grown more fairer far since I came thither,  
Her voice more silver every word then other,  
Her wit more fluent, what a strange discourse,  
Unfolded she of David and his Scots:  
Even thus quoth she, he spoke, and then spoke broad,  
With epithets and accents of the Scot:  
But somewhat better than the Scot could speak,  
And thus quoth she, and answered then herself,  
For who could speak like her but she herself:  
Breathes from the wall, an Angels note from Heaven:  
Of sweet defiance to her barbarous foes,  
When she would talk of peace methinks her tongue,  
Commanded war to prison: when of war,  
It wakened Caesar from his Roman grave,  
To hear war beautified by her discourse,  
Wisdom is foolishness, but in her tongue,  
Beauty a slander but in her fair face,  
There is no summer, but in her cheerful looks,  
Nor frosty winter, but in her disdain,  
I cannot blame the Scots that did besiege her,  
For she is all the Treasure of our land:  
But call them cowards that they ran away,  
Having so rich and fair a cause to stay.  
Art thou there Lodwick, give me ink and paper?  Lo: 
I will my liege.  K: 
And bid the Lords hold on their play at Chess,  
For we will walk and meditate alone.  Lo: 
I will my sovereign.  Ki: 
This fellow is well read in poetry,  
And hath a lusty and persuasive spirit:  
I will acquaint him with my passion,  
Which he shall shadow with a vail of lawn,  
Through which the Queen of beauty's Queen shall see,  
Herself the ground of my infirmity.  Enter Lodwike. Ki: 
Hast thou pen, ink and paper ready Lodowick,  Lo: 
Ready my liege.  Ki: 
Then in the summer arbour sit by me,  
Make it our counsel house or cabinet:  
Since green our thoughts, green be the conventicle,  
Where we will ease us by disburdening them:  
Now Lodwick invocate some golden Muse,  
To bring thee hither an enchanted pen,  
That may for sighs, set down true sighs indeed:  
Talking of grief, to make thee ready groan,  
And when thou writest of tears, encouch the word,  
Before and after with such sweet laments,  
That it may raise drops in a tartar's eye,  
And make a flint heart Sythian pitiful,  
For so much moving hath a poet's pen:  
Then if thou be a Poet move thou so,  
And be enriched by thy sovereign love:  
For if the touch of sweet concordant strings,  
Could force attendance in the ears of hell:  
How much more shall the strains of poet's wit,  
Beguiled and ravish soft and human minds.  Lor: 
To whom my Lord shall I direct my style.  King: 
To one that shames the fair and sots the wise,  
Whose body is an abstract or a brief,  
Contains each general virtue in the world,  
Better than beautiful thou must begin,  
devise for fair a fairer word then fair,  
And every ornament that thou wouldest praise,  
Fly it a pitch above the soar of praise,  
For flattery fear thou not to be convicted,  
For were thy admiration ten times more,  
Ten times ten thousand more thy worth exceeds,  
Of that thou art to praise their praises worth,  
Begin I will to contemplate the while,  
Forget not to set down how passionate,  
How heart sick and how full of languishment,  
Her beauty makes me,  Lor: 
Writ I to a woman?  King: 
What beauty else could triumph on me,  
Or who but women do our love lays greet,  
What thinkest thou I did bid thee praise a horse.  Lor, 
Of what condition or estate she is,  
'twere requisite that I should know my Lord,  King: 
Of such estate, that hers is as a throne,  
And my estate the footstool where she treads,  
Then mayst thou judge what her condition is,  
By the proportion of her mightiness,  
Write on while I peruse her in my thoughts,  
Her voice to music or the nightingale,  
To music every summer leaping swain,  
Compares his sunburnt lover when she speaks,  
And why should I speak of the nightingale,  
The nightingale sings of adulterate wrong,  
And that compared is too satirical,  
For sin though sin would not be so esteemed,  
But rather virtue sin, sin virtue deemed,  
Her hair far softer then the silk worms twist,  
Like to a flattering glass doth make more fair,  
The yellow Amber like a flattering glass,  
Comes in to soon: for writing of her eyes,  
I'll say that like a glass they catch the sun,  
And thence the hot reflection doth rebound,  
Against my breast and burns my heart within,  
Ah what a world of descant makes my soul,  
Upon this voluntary ground of love,  
Come Lodwick hast thou turned thy ink to gold,  
If not, write but in letters Capital my mistress name,  
And it will guild thy paper, read Lord, read,  
Fill thou the empty hollows of mine ears,  
With the sweet hearing of thy poetry.  Lo: 
I have not to a period brought her praise.  King: 
Her praise is as my love, both infinite,  
Which apprehend such violent extremes,  
That they disdain an ending period.  
Her beauty hath no match but my affection,  
Hers more than most, mine most, and more than more,  
Hers more to praise then tell the sea by drops,  
Nay more than drop the massy earth by sands,  
And said, by said, print them in memory,  
Then wherefore talkest thou of a period,  
To that which craves unended admiration.  
Read let us hear,  Lo: 
More fair and chaste than is the queen of shades:  King: 
That love hath two faults gross and palpable,  
Comparest thou her to the pale queen of night,  
Who being set in dark seems therefore light,  
What is she, when the sun lifts up his head,  
But like a fading taper dim and dead.  
My love shall brave the eye of heaven at noon,  
And being unmasked outshine the golden sun,  Lo: 
What is the other fault, my sovereign Lord,  King. 
Read o'er the line again,  Lo: 
More fair and chaste,  King: 
I did not bid thee talk of chastity,  
To ransack so the treason of her mind,  
For I had rather have her chased then chaste,  
Out with the moon line, I will none of it,  
And let me have her likened to the sun,  
Say she hath thrice more splendour than the sun,  
That her perfections emulates the sun,  
That she breeds sweets as plenteous as the sun,  
That she doth thaw cold winter like the sun,  
That she doth cheer fresh summer like the sun,  
That she doth dazzle gazers like the sun,  
And in this application to the sun,  
Bid her be free and general as the sun,  
Who smiles upon the basest weed that grows,  
As lovingly as on the fragrant rose,  
let's see what follows that same moonlight line,  Lo: 
More fair and chaste than is the lover of shades,  
More bold in constancy.  King: 
In constancy then who,  Lo: 
Then judith was,  King: 
O monstrous line, put in the next a sword  
And I shall woo her to cut of my head  
Blot, blot, good Lodwick let us hear the next.  Lo: 
There's all that yet is done.  King: 
I thank thee then thou hast done little ill,  
But what is done is passing passing ill,  
No let the Captain talk of boisterous war,  
The prisoner of emured dark constraint,  
The sick man best sets down the pangs of death,  
The man that starves the sweetness of a feast,  
The frozen soul the benefit of fire,  
And every grief his happy opposite,  
Love cannot sound well but in lovers tongues,  
Give me the pen and paper I will write,  Enter Countess. 
But soft here comes the treasurer of my spirit,  
Lodwick thou know'st not how to draw a battle,  
These wings, these flankers, and these squadrons,  
Argue in thee defective discipline,  
Thou shouldest have placed this here, this other here,  Co. 
Pardon my boldness my thrice gracious Lords,  
Let my intrusion here be called my duty,  
That comes to see my sovereign how he fares,  King 
Go draw the same I tell thee in what form.  Lor: 
I go.  Con: 
Sorry I am to see my liege so sad,  
What may thy subject do to drive from thee.  
Thy gloomy consort, sullen melancholy,  King: 
Ah Lady I am blunt and cannot straw,  
The flowers of solace in a ground of shame,  
Since I came hither Countess I am wronged.  Cont: 
Now God forbid that any in my house  
Should think my sovereign wrong, thrice gentle King:  King: 
Acquaint me with their cause of discontent.  
How near then shall I be to remedy.  Cont: 
As near my Liege as all my woman's power,  
Can pawn itself to buy thy remedy.  King: 
If thou speakst true then have I my redress,  
Engage thy power to redeem my joys,  
And I am joyful Countess else I die.  Coun: 
I will my Liege.  King: 
Swear Counties that thou wilt.  Coun: 
By heaven I will,  King: 
Then take thyself a little way aside,  
And tell thyself a King doth dote on thee,  
Say that within thy power doth lie.  
To make him happy, and that thou hast sworn,  
To give him all the joy within thy power,  
Do this and tell me when I shall be happy.  Coun: 
All this is done my thrice dread sovereign,  
That power of love that I have power to give.  
Thou hast with all devout obedience,  
Employ me how thou wilt in proof thereof,  King. 
Thou hearst me say that I do dote on thee,  Coun: 
if on my beauty take it if thou canst,  
Though little I do prize it ten times less,  
If on my virtue take it if thou canst,  
For virtues store by giving doth augment,  
Be it on what it will that I can give,  
And thou canst take away inherit it.  King. 
It is thy beauty that I would enjoy,  Count. 
O were it painted I would wipe it of,  
And dispose myself to give it thee,  
But sovereign it is soldered to my life,  
Take one and both for like an humble shadow,  
It haunts the sunshine of my summer's life,  
But thou mayst leave it me to sport with all,  Count: 
As easy may my intellectual soul,  
Be lent away and yet my body live,  
As lend my body palace to my soul,  
Away from her and yet retain my soul,  
My body is her bower her Court her abbey,  
And she an Angel pure divine unspotted,  
If I should leave her house my Lord to thee,  
I kill my poor soul and my poor soul me,  King. 
Didst thou not swear to give me what I would,  Count: 
I did my liege so what you would I could.  King: 
I wish no more of thee than thou mayst give,  
Nor beg I do not but I rather buy,  
That is thy love and for that love of thine,  
In rich exchange I tender to thee mine,  Count. 
But that your lips were sacred my Lord,  
You would profane the holy name of love,  
That love you offer me you cannot give,  
For Caesar owes that tribute to his Queen,  
That love you beg of me I cannot give,  
For Sara owes that duty to her Lord,  
He that doth clip or counterfeit your stamp,  
Shall die my Lord, and will your sacred self,  
commit high treason against the King of heaven,  
To stamp his Image in forbidden metal,  
For getting your allegiance, and your oath,  
In violating marriage sacred law,  
You break a greater honour than yourself,  
To be a King is of a younger house,  
Than to be married, your progenitor  
Sole reigning Adam on the universe,  
By God was honoured for a married man,  
But not by him anointed for a king,  
It is a penalty to break your statutes,  
Though not enacted with your highness hand,  
How much more to infringe the holy act,  
Made by the mouth of God, sealed with his hand,  
I know my sovereign in my husband's love,  
Who now doth loyal service in his wars,  
Doth but to try the wife of Salisbury,  
Whither she will hear a wantons tale or no,  
Lest being therein guilty by my stay,  
From that not from my liege I turn away:  Exit. King: 
Whether is her beauty by her words divine,  
Or are her words sweet chaplains to her beauty,  
Like as the wind doth beautify a sail,  
And as a sail becomes the unseen wind,  
So do her words her beauties, beauty words,  
O that I were a honey gathering Bee,  
To bear the comb of virtue from his flower,  
And not a poison sucking envious spider,  
To turn the vice I take to deadly venom,  
Religion is austere and beauty gentle,  
To strike a gardion for so fair a weed,  
O that she were as is the air to me,  
Why so she is, for when I would embrace her,  
This do I, and catch nothing but myself,  
I must enjoy her, for I cannot beat  
With reason and reproof fond love away.  Enter Warwick. 
Here comes her father I will work with him,  
To bear my colours in this field of love.  War: 
How is it that my sovereign is so sad,  
May I with pardon know your highness grief,  
And that my old endeavour will remove it,  
It shall not cumber long your majesty,  King: 
A kind and voluntary gift thou proferest.  
That I was forward to have begged of thee,  
But O thou world great nurse of flattery,  
Why dost thou tip men's tongues with golden words,  
And poise their deeds with weight of heavy lead,  
That fair performance cannot follow promise,  
O that a man might hold the hearts close book,  
And choke the lavish tongue when it doth utter  
The breath of falsehood not charactered there:  War: 
Far be it from the honour of my age,  
That I should owe bright gold and render lead,  
Age is a cynic, not a flatterer,  
I say again, that I if knew your grief,  
And that by me it may be lessened,  
My proper harm should buy your highness good,  
These are the vulgar tenders of false men,  
That never pay the duty of their words,  King 
Thou wilt not stick to swear what thou hast said,  
But when thou knowest my griefs condition,  
This rash disgorged vomit of thy word,  
Thou wilt eat up again and leave me helpless.  War. 
By heaven I will not though your majesty,  
Did bid me run upon your sword and die  
Say that my grief is no way medicinable,  
But by the loss and bruising of thine honour,  War: 
If nothing but that loss may vantage you,  
I would accomplish that loss my vantage to,  King. 
Thinkst that thou canst answer thy oath again,  War: 
I cannot nor I would not if I could.  King. 
But if thou dost what shall I say to thee,  War: 
What may be said to any perjured villain,  
That break the sacred warrant of an oath,  King. 
What wilt thou say to one that breaks an oath,  War. 
That he hath broke his faith with God and man,  
And from them both stands excommunicate,  King. 
What office were it to suggest a man,  
To break a lawful and religious vow.  War. 
An office for the devil not for man,  Ki. 
That destilles office must thou do for me,  
Or break thy oath or cancel all the bonds,  
Of love and duty twixt thyself and me,  
And therefore Warwick if thou art thyself,  
The Lord and master of thy word and oath,  
Go to thy daughter and in my behalf,  
Command her, woo her, win her any wares,  
To be my mistress and my secret love,  
I will not stand to hear thee make reply,  
Thy oath break hers or let thy sovereign die.  Exit, King: 
O doting King, or detestable office,  
Well may I tempt myself to wrong myself,  
When he hath sworn me by the name of God,  
To break a vow made by the name of God,  
What if I swear by this right hand of mine,  
To cut this right hand of the better way,  
Were to profane the Idol then confound it,  
But neither will I do I'll keep mine oath,  
And to my daughter make a recantation,  
Of all the virtue I have preached to her,  
I'll say she must forget her husband Salisbury,  
If she remember to embrace the king,  
I'll say an oath may easily be broken,  
But not so easily pardoned being broken:  
I'll say it is true charity to love,  
But not true love to be so charitable;  
I'll say his greatness may bear out the shame,  
But not his kingdom can buy out the sin;  
I'll say it is my duty to persuade,  
But not her honesty to give consent.  Enter Countess. 
See where she comes, was never father had,  
Against his child, an embassage so bad.  Co: 
My Lord and father, I have sought for you:  
My mother and the Peers importune you,  
To keep in promise of his majesty.  
And do your best to make his highness merry.  War: 
How shall I enter in this graceless arrant,  
I must not call her child, for where's the father,  
That will in such a suit seduce his child:  
Then wife of Salisbury shall I so begin:  
No he's my friend, and where is found the friend  
That will do friendship such endamagement:  
Neither my daughter, nor my dear friend's wife,  
I am not Warwick as thou thinkst I am,  
But an attorney from the Court of hell:  
That thus have housed my spirit in his form,  
To do a message to thee from the king:  
The mighty king of England dotes on thee:  
He that hath power to take away thy life,  
Hath power to take thy honour, than consent,  
To pawn thine honour rather than thy life;  
Honour is often lost and got again,  
But life once gone, hath no recovery:  
The Sun that withers hay doth nourish grass,  
The king that would distain thee, will advance thee.  
The Poets write that great Achilles' spear,  
Could heal the wound it made: the moral is,  
What mighty men misdo, they can amend:  
The Lion doth become his bloody jaws,  
And grace his foragement by being mild,  
When vassal fear lies trembling at his feet,  
The king will in his glory hide thy shame,  
And those that gaze on him to find out thee,  
Will lose their eyesight looking in the Sun:  
What can one drop of poison harm the Sea,  
Whose hugy vastures can digest the ill,  
And make it lose his operation:  
The kings great name will temper their misdeeds,  
And give the bitter portion of reproach:  
A sugared sweet, and most delicious taste:  
Besides it is no harm to do the thing,  
Which without shame, could not be left undone;  
Thus have I in his majesties behalf,  
appareled sin, in virtuous sentences,  
And dwell upon thy answer in his suit.  Count 
Unnatural besiege, woe me unhappy,  
To have escaped the danger of my foes,  
And to be ten times worse injured by friends:  
Hath he no means to stain my honest blood,  
But to corrupt the author of my blood,  
To be his scandalous and vile solicitor:  
No marvel though the branches be then infected,  
When poison hath encompassed the root:  
No marvel though the leprous infant die,  
When the stern dame envenometh the Dug:  
Why then give sin a passport to offend,  
And youth the dangerous reign of liberty:  
Blot out the strict forbidding of the law,  
And cancel every cannon that prescribes,  
A shame for shame, or penance for offence,  
No let me die, if his too boisterous will,  
Will have it so, before I will consent,  
To be an actor in his graceless lust.  Wa: 
Why now thou speakst as I would have thee speak,  
And mark how I unsay my words again,  
An honourable grave is more esteemed,  
Than the polluted closet of a king,  
The greater man, the greater is the thing,  
Be it good or bad that he shall undertake,  
An unreputed mote, flying in the Sun,  
Presents a greater substance than it is:  
The freshest summers day doth soonest taint,  
The loathed carrion that it seems to kiss:  
Deep are the blows made with a mighty Axe,  
That sin doth ten times aggravate itself,  
That is committed in a holy place,  
An evil deed done by authority,  
Is sin and subornation: Deck an Ape  
In tissue, and the beauty of the rob,  
Adds but the greater scorn unto the beast:  
A spacious field of reasons could I urge,  
Between his gloomy daughter and thy shame,  
That poison shows worst in a golden cup,  
Dark night seems darker by the lightning flash,  
Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds,  
And every glory that inclines to sin,  
The shame is treble, by the opposite,  
So leave I with my blessing in thy bosom,  
Which then convert to a most heavy curse,  
When thou convertest from honours golden name,  
To the black faction of bed blotting, shame.  Coun: 
ills follow thee, and when my mind turns so,  
My body sink, my soul in endless woe.  Exeunt. Enter at one door Derby from France, At another door, Audley with a Drum. Der. 
Thrice noble Audley, well encountered here,  
How is it with our sovereign and his peers?  Aud. 
'tis full a fortnight since I saw his highness,  
What time he sent me forth to muster men,  
Which I accordingly have done and bring them hither,  
In fair array before his majesty:  King: 
What news my Lord of Derby from the Emperor.  Der. 
As good as we desire: the Emperor  
Hath yielded to his highness friendly aid,  
And makes our king lieutenant general  
In all his lands and large dominions,  
Then via for the spacious bounds of France;  Aud. 
What doth his highness leap to hear these news?  Der. 
I have not yet found time to open them,  
The king is in his closet malcontent,  
For what I know not, but he gave in charge,  
Till after dinner, none should interrupt him:  
The Countess Salisbury, and her father Warwick,  
Artoyes, and all look underneath the brows.  Aud: 
Undoubtedly then some thing is a miss.  Enter the King. Dar. 
The Trumpets sound, the king is now abroad,  Ar. 
Here comes his highness.  Der. 
Befall my sovereign, all my sovereign's wish,  King. 
Ah that thou wert a Witch to make it so.  Der. 
The Emperor greeteth you.  Kin. 
Would it were the Countess.  Der. 
And hath accorded to your highness suit,  King. 
Thou liest she hath not, but I would she had,  Au. 
All love and duty to my Lord the King.  Kin. 
Well all but one is none, what news with you?  Au. 
I have my liege, levied those horse and foot,  
According as your charge, and brought them hither.  Kin. 
Then let those foot trudge hence upon those horse,  
According too our discharge and be gone:  
Derby I'll look upon the Countess mind anon,  Dar 
The Countess mind my liege.  Kin. 
I mean the Emperor, leave me alone,  Au. 
What is his mind?  Dar: 
Let's leave him to his humour.  Exunt. Ki: 
Thus from the heart's abundant speaks the tongue,  
Countess for Emperor, and indeed why not?  
She is as imperator over me, and I to her  
Am as a kneeling vassal that observes,  
The pleasure, or displeasure of her eye  Enter Lodwike. Ki: 
What says the more than Cleopatra's match,  
To Caesar now?  Lo: 
That yet my liege ere night,  
She will resolve your majesty.  Ki: 
What drum is this that thunders forth this march,  
To start the tender Cupid in my bosom,  
Poor sheepskin how it brawls with him that beateth it:  
Go break the thundering parchment bottom out,  
And I will teach it to conduct sweet lines,  
Unto the bosom of a heavenly Nymph,  
For I will use it as my writing paper,  
And so reduce him from a scolding drum,  
To be the herald and dear counsel bearer,  
Betwixt a goddess, and a mighty king:  
Go bid the drummer learn to touch the Lute,  
Or hang him in the braces of his drum,  
For now we think it an uncivil thing,  
To trouble heaven with such harsh resounds, Away. Exit.  
The quarrel that I have requires no arms,  
But these of mine, and these shall meet my foe,  
In a deep march of penetrable groans,  
My eyes shall be my arrows, and my sighs  
Shall serve me as the vantage of the wind,  
To whirl away my sweetest artillery:  
Ah but alas she wins the sun of me,  
For that is she herself, and thence it comes,  
That poet's term, the wanton warrior blind:  
But love hath eyes as judgement to his steps,  
Till two much loved glory daisies them?  
How now.  Enter Lodwike. Lo. 
My liege the drum that stroke the lusty march,  
Stands with Prince Edward your thrice valiant son.  Enter Prince Edward. King. 
I see the boy, oh how his mother's face,  
Modelled in his, corrects my strayed desire,  
And rates my heart, and chides my thievish eye,  
Who being rich enough in seeing her,  
Yet seek, elsewhere and basest theft is that,  
Which cannot cloak itself on poverty.  
Now boy, what news?  Pr. E. 
I have assembled my dear Lord and father,  
The choicest buds of all our English blood,  
For our affairs to France, and here we come,  
To take direction from your majesty.  King 
Still do I see in him delineate,  
His mother's visage, those his eyes are hers,  
Who looking wistly on me, make me blush:  
For faults against themselves, give evidence,  
Lust as a fire, and me like lantern show,  
Light lust within themselves; even through themselves:  
Away loose silks or wavering vanity,  
Shall the large limmit of fair Britain.  
By me be overthrown, and shall I not,  
Master this little mansion of myself;  
Give me an Armour of eternal steel,  
I go to conquer kings, and shall I not then  
Subdue myself, and be my enemies friend,  
It must not be, come boy forward, advance,  
Let's with our colours sweet the Air of France.  Enter Lodwike. Lo. 
My liege, the Countess with a smiling cheer.  
desire's access unto your Majesty.  King. 
Why there it goes, that very smile of hers,  
Hath ransomed captive France, and set the King,  
The Dolphin and the Peers at liberty,  
Go leave me Ned, and revel with thy friends. Exit Pr.  
Thy mother is but black, and thou like her.  
Dost put it in my mind how foul she is,  
Go fetch the Countess hither in thy hand, Exit Lod.  
And let her chase away these winter clouds,  
For she gives beauty both to heaven and earth,  
The sin is more to hack and hew poor men,  
Then to embrace in an unlawful bed,  
The register of all rarities,  
Since leathern Adam, till this youngest hour.  Enter Countess. King. 
Go Lodwick, put thy hand into thy purse,  
Play, spend, give, riot, waste, do what thou wilt,  
So thou wilt hence awhile and leave me here.  
Now my soul's playfellow art thou come,  
To speak the more than heavenly word of yea,  
To my objection in thy beauteous love.  Count. 
My father on his blessing hath commanded.  King. 
That thou shalt yield to me.  Coun: 
I dear my liege, your due.  King. 
And that my dearest love, can be no less,  
Then right for right, and render love for love.  Count: 
Then wrong for wrong, and endless hate for hate:  
But sith I see your majesty so bent,  
That my unwillingness, my husband's love,  
Your high estate, nor no respect respected,  
Can be my help, but that your mightiness:  
Will overbear and awe these dear regards,  
I bind my discontent to my content,  
And what I would not, I'll compel I will,  
Provided that yourself remove those lets,  
That stand between your highness love and mine,  King: 
Name then fair Countess, and by heaven I will.  Co: 
It is their lives that stand between our love,  
That I would have choked up my sovereign.  Ki. 
Whose lives my Lady?  Co. 
My thrice loving liege,  
Your Queen, and Salisbury my wedded husband,  
Who living have that title in our love,  
That we cannot bestow but by their death,  Ki: 
Thy opposition is beyond our Law,  Co. 
So is your desire, if the law  
Can hinder you to execute the one,  
Let it forbid you to attempt the other:  
I Cannot think you love me as you say,  
Unless you do make good what you have sworn.  
No more, thy husband and the Queen shall die,  
Fairer thou art by far, than Hero was,  
Beardless Leander not so strong as I:  
He swum an easy current for his love,  
But I will throng a hellie spout of blood,  
To arrive at Cestus where my Hero lies.  Co: 
Nay you'll do more, you'll make the River to,  
With their heart bloods, that keep our love asunder,  
Of which my husband, and your wife are twain.  Ki. 
Thy beauty makes them guilty of their death,  
And gives in evidence that they shall die,  
Upon which verdict I their judge condemn them.  Co: 
O perjured beauty, more corrupted judge:  
When to the great star-chamber o'er our heads,  
The universal Sessions calls to count,  
This packing evil, we both shall tremble for it.  Ki. 
What says my fair love, is she resolute?  Co. 
Resolute to be dissolved, and therefore this,  
Keep but thy word great king, and I am thine,  
Stand where thou dost, i'll part a little from thee  
And see how I will yield me to thy hands:  
Here by my side doth hang my wedding knives,  
Take thou the one, and with it kill thy Queen  
And learn by me to find her where she lies  
And with this other, I'll dispatch my love,  
Which now lies fast asleep within my heart,  
When they are gone, then I'll consent to love:  
Stir not lascivious king to hinder me,  
My resolution is more nimbler far,  
Than thy prevention can be in my rescue,  
And if thou stir, I strike, therefore stand still,  
And hear the choice that I will put thee to:  
Either swear to leave thy most unholy suit,  
And never hence forth to solicit me,  
Or else by heaven, this sharp pointed knife,  
Shall stain thy earth, with that which thou would stain:  
My poor chaste blood, swear Edward swear,  
Or I will strike and die before thee here.  King. 
even by that power I swear that gives me now,  
The power to be ashamed of myself,  
I never mean to part my lips again,  
In any words that tends to such a suit.  
Arise true English Lady, whom our I'll  
May better boast of then ever Roman might,  
Of her whose ransacked treasury hath tasked,  
The vain endeavour of so many pens:  
Arise and be my fault, thy honours fame,  
Which after ages shall enrich thee with,  
I am awaked from this idle dream,  
Warwick, my Son, Derby, Artoys and Audley,  
Brave warriors all, where are you all this while?  Enter all. 
Warwick, I make thee Warden of the North,  
Thou Prince of Wales, and Audley straight to Sea,  
Scour to Newhaven, some there stay for me:  
myself, Artoys and Derby will through Flanders,  
To greet our friends there, and to crave their aid,  
This night will scarce suffice me to discover,  
My folly's siege against a faithful lover,  
For ere the Sun shall guide the esteem sky,  
We'll wake him with our martial harmony.  Exeunt. Enter King john of France, his two sons, Charles of normandy, and Phillip, and the Duke of Lorraine. King john. 
Here till our Navy of a thousand and sail,  
Have made a breakfast to our foe by Sea,  
Let us encamp to wait their happy speed:  
Lorraine what readiness is Edward in?  
How hast thou heard that he provided is  
Of martial furniture for this exploit.  Lo: 
To lay aside unnecessary soothing,  
And not to spend the time in circumstance,  
'tis bruited for a certainty my Lord,  
That he's exceeding strongly fortified,  
His subjects flock as willingly to war,  
As if unto a triumph they were led.  Ch: 
England was wont to harbour malcontents,  
Blood thirsty, and seditious Catilines,  
Spend thrifts, and such as gape for nothing else,  
But changing and alteration of the state,  
And is it possible,  
That they are now so loyal in themselves?  Lo: 
All but the Scot, who solemnly protests,  
As heere to fore I have informed his grace,  
Never to sheathe his Sword, or take a truce.  Io: 
Ah, that's the anchorage of some better hope,  
But on the other side, to think what friends,  
King Edward hath retained in netherlands,  
Among those ever-bibbing Epicures:  
Those frothy Dutch men, puffed with double beer,  
That drink and swill in every place they come,  
Doth not a little aggravate mine ire,  
Besides we hear the Emperor conjoins,  
And stalls him in his own authority:  
But all the mightier that their number is,  
The greater glory reaps the victory,  
Some friends have we beside drum strike power,  
The stern Polonian and the warlike Dane:  
The king of Bohemia, and of Sicily.  
Are all become confederates with us,  
And as I think are marching hither apace,  
But soft I hear the music of their drums.  
By which I guess that their approach is near.  Enter the King of Bohemia with Danes, and a Polonian Captain with other soldiers another way. King of Boheme. 
King john of France, as league and neighbourhood,  
Requires when friends are any way distressed,  
I come to aid thee with my country's force,  Pol. Cap. 
And from great Musco fearful to the Turk,  
And lofty Poland, nurse of hardy men,  
I bring these servitors to fight for thee,  
Who willingly will venture in thy cause.  K. Io: 
Welcome Bohemian king, and welcome all,  
This your great kindness I will not forget.  
Besides your plentiful rewards in Crowns,  
That from our Treasury ye shall receive,  
There comes a hare brained Nation decked in pride,  
The spoil of whom will be a treble game,  
And now my hope is full, my joy complete,  
At Sea we are as puissant as the force;  
Of Agamemnon in the Haven of Troy:  
By land with Zerxes we compare of strength,  
Whose soldiers drank up rivers in their thirst:  
Then Bayard like, blind overweening Ned,  
To reach at our imperial diadem,  
Is either to be swallowed of the waves,  
Or hacked a pieces when thou comest ashore.  Enter. Mar. 
near to the cost I have described my Lord,  
As I was busy in my watchful charge.  
The proud Armado of king Edward's ships,  
Which at the first far off when I did ken,  
Seemed as it were a grove of withered pines,  
But drawing near, their glorious bright aspect,  
Their streaming Ensigns wrought of coloured silk,  
Like to a meadow full of sundry flowers,  
Adorns the naked bosom of the earth.  
majestical the order of their course,  
Figuring the horned Circle of the Moon,  
And on the top gallant of the Admiral,  
And likewise all the handmaids of his train:  
The Arms of England and of France unite,  
Are quartered equally by Herald's art;  
Thus tightly carried with a merry gale,  
They plough the Ocean hitherward amain:  
Dare he already crop the flower de Luce:  
I hope the honey being gathered thence,  
He with the spider afterward approached  
Shall suck forth deadly venom from the leaves,  
But where's our Navy, how are they prepared,  
To wing themselves against this flight of Ravens.  Ma. 
They having knowledge, brought them by the scouts,  
Did break from Anchor straight, and puffed with rage,  
No otherwise than were their sails with wind,  
Made forth, as when the empty Eagle flies,  
To satisfy his hungry griping maw.  Io: 
These for thy news, return unto thy bark,  
And if thou scape the bloody strooke of war,  
And do survive the conflict, come again,  
And let us hear the manner of the fight, Exit.  
Mean space my Lords, 'tis best we be dispersed,  
To several places lest they chance to land:  
First you my Lord, with your Bohemian Troops,  
Shall pitch your battles on the lower hand,  
My eldest son the Duke of normandy,  
Together with this aid of Muscovites,  
Shall climb the higher ground another way:  
Here in the middle cost betwixt you both,  
Philip my youngest boy and I will lodge,  
So Lords begone, and look unto your charge. Exunt.  
You stand for France, an Empire fair and large,  
Now tell me Philip, what is their concept,  
Touching the challenge that the English make.  Ph: 
I say my Lord, claim Edward what he can,  
And bring he near so plain a pedigree,  
'tis you are in possession of the Crown,  
And that's the surest point of all the Law:  
But were it not, yet ere he should prevail,  
I'll make a Conduit of my dearest blood,  
Or chase those straggling upstarts home again,  King: 
Well said young Philip, call for bread and Wine,  
That we may cheer our stomachs with repast, The battle hard afar off.  
To look our foes more sternly in the face.  
Now is begun the heavy day at Sea,  
Fight Frenchmen, fight, be like the field of Bears,  
When they defend their younglings in their Caves:  
Stir angry Nemesis the happy helm,  
That with the sulphur battles of your rage,  
The English Fleet may be dispersed and sunk,  Ph. 
O Father how this echoing Cannon shot. Shot.  
Like sweet harmony digests my cates.  
Now boy thou hearest what thundering terror 'tis,  
To buckle for a kingdoms sovereignty,  
The earth with giddy trembling when it shakes,  
Or when the exhalations of the air,  
Breaks in extremity of lightning flash,  
Affrights not more than kings when they dispose,  
To show the rancour of their high swollen hearts,  
Retreat is sounded, one side hath the worse, Retreat.  
O if it be the French, sweet fortune turn,  
And in thy turning change the forward winds,  
That with advantage of a favouring sky,  
Our men may vanquish and thither fly.  Enter mariner. 
My heart misgives, say mirror of pale death,  
To whom belongs the honour of this day,  
Relate I pray thee, if thy breath will serve,  
The sad discourse of this discomfiture.  Mar. 
I will my Lord.  
My gracious sovereign, France hath tane the foil,  
And boasting Edward triumphs with success;  
These Iron hearted Navies,  
When last I was reporter to your grace,  
Both full of angry spleen of hope and fear:  
Hasting to meet each other in the face,  
At last conjoined, and by their Admiral,  
Our Admiral encountered many shot,  
By this the other that beheld these twain,  
Give earnest penny of a further wrack,  
Like fiery Dragons took their haughty flight,  
And like wise meeting, from their smoky wombs,  
Sent many grim Ambassadors of death,  
Then 'gan the day to turn to gloomy night,  
And darkness did aswell enclose the quick,  
As those that were but newly reft of life,  
No leisure served for friends to bid farewell,  
And if it had, the hideous noise was such,  
As each to other seemed deaf and dumb,  
Purple the Sea whose channel filled as fast,  
With streaming gore that from the maimed fell,  
As did her gushing moisture break into,  
The cranny cleftures of the through shot planks,  
Here flew a head dissevered from the trunk,  
There mangled arms and legs were tossed aloft,  
As when a whirl wind takes the Summer dust,  
And scatters it in middle of the air,  
Then might ye see the reeling vessels split,  
And tottering sink into the ruthless flood,  
Until their lofty tops were seen no more.  
All shifts were tried both for defence and hurt,  
And now the effect of valour and of force,  
Of resolution and of a cowardice:  
We lively pictured, how the one for fame;  
The other by compulsion laid about;  
Much did the Nom per illa, that brave ship,  
So did the black snake of Bullen, than which  
A bonnier vessel never yet spread sail,  
But all in vain, both Sun, the Wine and tide,  
Revolted all unto our foe men's side,  
That we perforce were fain to give them way,  
And they are landed, thus my tale is done,  
We have untimely lost, and they have won.  K. Io: 
Then rests there nothing but with present speed,  
To join our several forces all in one,  
And bid them battle ere they range to far,  
Come gentle Philip, let us hence depart,  
This soldiers words have pierced thy father's heart.  Exeunt Enter two French men, a woman and two little Children, meet them another Citizens. One: 
Well met my masters: how now, what's the news,  
And wherefore are ye laden thus with stuff:  
What is it quarter day that you remove,  
And carry bag and baggage too?  Two: 
Quarter day, I and quartering pay I fear:  
Have we not heard the news that flies abroad?  One: 
What news?  Three: 
How the French Navy is destroyed at Sea,  
And that the English Army is arrived.  One: 
What then?  Two: 
What then quoth you? why be't not time to fly,  
When envy and destruction is so nigh,  One. 
Content thee man, they are far enough from hence,  
And will be met I warrant ye to their cost,  
Before they break so far into the Realm.  Two: 
I so the Grasshopper doth spend the time,  
In mirthful jollity till Winter come,  
And then too late he would redeem his time,  
When frozen cold hath nipped his careless head:  
He that no sooner will provide a Cloak,  
Then when he sees it doth begin to reign,  
May peradventure for his negligence,  
Be thoroughly washed when he suspects it not,  
We that have charge, and such a train as this,  
Must look in time, to look for them and us,  
lest when we would, we cannot be relieved.  One: 
Be like you then despair of ill success,  
And think your Country will be subjugate.  Three. 
We cannot tell, 'tis good to fear the worst.  One: 
Yet rather fight, then like unnatural sons,  
Forsake your loving parents in distress.  Two. 
Tush they that have already taken arms,  
Are many fearful millions in respect  
Of that small handful of our enemies:  
But 'tis a rightful quarrel must prevail,  
Edward is son unto our late king's sister,  
Where john Valois, is three degrees removed.  Woman 
Besides, there goes a prophesy abroad,  
Published by one that was a friar once,  
Whose Oracles have many times proved true,  
And now he says the time will shortly come,  
whenas a Lion roused in the west,  
Shall carry hence the fleurdeluce of France,  
These I can tell ye and such like surmises,  
Strike many french men cold unto the heart:  Enter a French man. 
Fly country men and citizens of France,  
Sweet flowering peace the root of happy life,  
Is quite abandoned and expulsed the land,  
Instead of whom ransacked constraining war,  
Sits like to Ravens upon your houses tops,  
Slaughter and mischief walk within your streets.  
And unrestrained make havoc as they pass,  
The form whereof even now myself beheld,  
Upon this fair mountain whence I came,  
For so far off as I directed mine eyes,  
I might perceive five Cities all on fire,  
Come fields and vineyards burning like an oven,  
And as the leaking vapour in the wind,  
I turned but aside I like wise might discern.  
The poor inhabitants escaped the flame,  
Fall numberless upon the soldiers pikes,  
Three ways these dreadful ministers of wrath,  
Do tread the measures of their tragic march,  
Upon the right hand comes the conquering King,  
Upon the left is hot unbridled son,  
And in the midst our nations glittering host,  
All which though distant yet conspire in one,  
To leave a desolation where they come,  
Fly therefore Citizens if you be wise,  
Seek out some habitation further of,  
Here if you stay your wives will be abused,  
Your treasure shared before your weeping eyes,  
Shelter you yourselves for now the storm doth rise,  
Away, away, methinks I hear their drums,  
Ah wretched France, I greatly fear thy fall,  
Thy glory shaketh like a tottering wall.  Enter King Edward and the Earl of Darby With Soldiers, and Gobin de gray. King 
Where's the French man by whose cunning guide,  
We found the shallow of this River Soon,  
And had direction how to pass the sea.  Go: 
Here my good Lord.  King 
How art thou called, tell me thy name.  Go: 
Gobin de Graie if please your excellence,  King 
Then Gobin for the service thou hast done,  
We here enlarge and give thee liberty,  
And for recompence beside this good,  
Thou shalt receive five hundred marks in gold,  
I know not how we should have met our son,  
Whom now in heart I wish I might behold.  Enter Artoyes. 
Good news my Lord the prince is hard at hand,  
And with him comes Lord Awdley and the rest,  
Whom since our landing we could never meet.  Enter Prince Edward, Lord Awdley and Soldiers. K. E: 
Welcome fair Prince, how hast thou sped my son,  
Since thy arrival on the coast of France?  Pr. Ed: 
Successfully I thank the gracious heavens,  
Some of their strongest Cities we have won,  
As Harslen, Lie, Crotag, and Carentigne,  
And others wasted, leaving at our heels,  
A wide apparent field and beaten path,  
For solitariness to progress in,  
Yet those that would submit we kindly pardoned,  
For who in scorn refused our proffered peace,  
endured the penalty of sharp revenge.  Ki. Ed: 
Ah France, why shouldest thou be this obstinate,  
Against the kind embracement of thy friends,  
How gently had we thought to touch thy breast,  
And set our foot upon thy tender mould,  
But that in froward and disdainful pride  
Thou like a skittish and untamed colt,  
Dost start aside and strike us with thy heels,  
But tell me Ned, in all thy warlike course,  
Hast thou not seen the usurping King of France.  Pri. 
Yes my good Lord, and not two oars ago,  
With full a hundred thousand fighting men,  
Upon the one side with the rivers bank,  
And on the other both his multitudes,  
I feared he would have cropped our smaller power,  
But happily perceiving your approach,  
He hath with drawn himself to Cressey plains,  
Where as it seemeth by his good array.  
He means to bid us battle presently,  Kin. Ed: 
He shall be welcome that's the thing we crave.  Enter King john, Dukes of Normandy and Lorraine, King of Boheme, young Phillip, and Soldiers. john. 
Edward know that john the true king of France,  
Musing thou shouldst encroach upon his land,  
And in thy tyrannous proceeding slay,  
His faithful subjects, and subvert his Towns,  
Spits in thy face, and in this manner following,  
upbraids thee with thine arrogant intrusion,  
First I condemn thee for a fugitive,  
A thievish pirate, and a needy mate,  
One that hath either no abiding place,  
Or else inhabiting some barren soil,  
Where neither herb or fruitful grain is had,  
Dost altogether live by pilfering,  
Next, insomuch thou hast infringed thy faith,  
Broke league and solemn covenant made with me,  
I hold thee for a false pernicious wretch,  
And last of all, although I scorn to cope  
With one such inferior to myself,  
Yet in respect thy thirst is all for gold,  
They labour rather to be feared then loved,  
To satisfy thy lust in either part  
Here am I come and with me have I brought,  
Exceeding store of treasure, pearl, and coin,  
Leave therefore now to persecute the weak,  
And armed entering conflict with the armed,  
Let it be seen 'mongst other petty thefts,  
How thou canst win this pillage manfully.  K: Ed: 
If gall or wormwood have a pleasant taste,  
Then is thy salutation honey sweet,  
But as the one hath no such property,  
So is the other most satirical:  
Yet wot how I regard thy worthless taunts,  
If thou have uttered them to foil my fame,  
Or dim the reputation of my birth,  
Know that thy wolvish barking cannot hurt,  
If slily to insinuate with the world,  
And with a strumpet's artificial line,  
To paint thy vicious and deformed cause,  
be well assured the counterfeit will fade,  
And in the end thy foul defects be seen,  
But if thou didst it to provoke me on,  
As who should say I were but timorous,  
Or coldly negligent did need a spur,  
Bethink thyself how slack I was at sea,  
Now since my landing I have won no towns,  
Entered no further but upon the coast,  
And there have ever since securely slept,  
But if I have been other wise employed,  
Imagine Valois whether I intend  
To skirmish, not for pillage but for the Crown,  
Which thou dost wear and that I vow to have,  
Or one of us shall fall in to this grave,  Pri Ed: 
Look not for cross invectives at our hands,  
Or railing execrations of despite,  
Let creeping serpents hide in hollow banks,  
Sting with their tongues; we have remorseless sword,  
And they shall plead for us and our affairs,  
Yet thus much briefly by my father's leave,  
As all the immodest poison of thy throat,  
Is scandalous and most notorious lies,  
And our pretended quarrel is truly just,  
So end the battle when we meet to day,  
May either of us prosper and prevail,  
Or luckless cursed, receive eternal shame.  King Ed: 
That needs no further question, and I know  
His conscience witnesseth it is my right,  
Therefore Valois say, wilt thou yet resign,  
Before the sickles thrust into the Corn,  
Or that enkindled fury, turn to flame:  Ioh: 
Edward I know what right thou hast in France,  
And ere I basely will resign my Crown,  
This Champion field shallbe a pool of blood,  
And all our prospect as a slaughter house,  Pr Ed: 
I that approves thee tyrant what thou art,  
No father, king, or shepherd of thy realm,  
But one that tears her entrails with thy hands,  
And like a thirsty tiger suckest her blood.  Aud: 
You peers of France, why do you follow him,  
That is so prodigal to spend your lives?  Ch: 
Whom should they follow, aged impotent,  
But he that is their true born sovereign?  King 
upbraid'st thou him, because within his face,  
Time hath engraved deep characters of age:  
Know that these grave scholars of experience,  
Like stiff grown oaks, will stand unmovable,  
When whirl wind quickly turns up younger trees.  Dar. 
Was ever any of thy father's house king,  
But thyself, before this present time,  
Edward's great lineage by the mother's side,  
Five hundred years hath held the sceptre up,  
judge then conspirators by this descent,  
Which is the true borne sovereign this or that.  Pri: 
Father range your battles, prate no more,  
These English fame would spend the time in wonders,  
That night approaching, they might escape unfought.  K Ioh: 
Lords and my loving Subjects knows the time,  
That your intended force must bide the touch,  
Therefore my friends consider this in brief,  
He that you fight for is your natural King,  
He against whom you fight a foreigner:  
He that you fight for rules in clemency,  
And fames you with a mild and gentle bit,  
He against whom you fight if he prevail,  
Will straight in throne himself in tyranny,  
Make slaves of you, and with a heavy hand  
curtal and curb your sweetest liberty.  
Then to protect your Country and your King,  
Let but the haughty Courage of your hearts,  
Answer the number of your able hands,  
And we shall quickly chase these fugitives,  
For what's this Edward but a belly god,  
A tender and lascivious wantonness,  
That tother day was almost dead for love,  
And what I pray you is his goodly guard,  
Such as but scant them of their chines of beef,  
And take away their downy featherbeds,  
And presently they are as resty stiff,  
As 'twere a many over ridden jades,  
Then French men scorn that such should be your Lords  
And rather bind ye them in captive bands,  All Fra: 
Vive le Roy, God save King john of France.  Io: 
Now on this plain of Cressie spread yourselves,  
And Edward when thou darest, begin the fight:  Ki. Ed: 
We presently will meet thee john of France,  
And English Lords let us resolve the day,  
Either to clear us of that scandalous crime,  
Or be entombed in our innocence,  
And Ned, because this battle is the first,  
That ever yet thou foughtest in pitched field,  
As ancient custom is of Martialists,  
To dub thee with the type of chivalry,  
In solemn manner we will give thee arms,  
Come therefore Heralds, orderly bring forth,  
A strong attirement for the prince my son.  Enter four Heralds bringing in a coat armour, a helmet, a lance, and a shield. King 
Edward Plantagenet, in the name of God,  
As with this armour I impale thy breast,  
So be thy noble unrelenting heart,  
Walled in with flint of matchless fortitude,  
That never base affections enter there,  
Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou comest,  
Now follow Lords, and do him honour to.  Dar: 
Edward Plantagenet prince of Wales,  
As I do set this helmet on thy head,  
Where with the chamber of this brain is fenced,  
So may thy temples with Bellona's hand,  
Be still adorned with laurel victory,  
Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou comest.  Aud. 
Edward Plantagenet prince of Wales,  
Receive this lance into thy manly hand,  
Use it in fashion of a brazen pen,  
To draw forth bloody stratagems in France,  
And print thy valiant deeds in honours book,  
Fight and be valiant, vanquish where thou comest.  Art: 
Edward Plantagenet prince of Wales,  
Hold take this target, wear it on thy arm,  
And may the view thereof like Perscus' shield,  
Astonish and transform thy gazing foes  
To senseless images of meager death,  
Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou comest.  Ki. 
Now wants there nought but knighthood, which deferred  
we leave till thou hast won it in the field,  
My gracious father and ye forward peers,  
This honour you have done me animates,  
And cheers my green yet scarce appearing strength,  
With comfortable good presaging signs,  
No otherwise than did old Jacob's words,  
whenas he breathed his blessings on his sons,  
These hallowed gifts of yours when I profane,  
Or use them not to glory of my God,  
To patronage the fatherless and poor,  
Or for the benefit of England's peace,  
Be numb my joints, wax feeble both mine arms,  
Wither my heart that like a sapless tree,  
I may remain the map of infamy.  K. Ed: 
Then this our steeled Battles shall be ranged,  
The leading of the vanward Ned is thine,  
To dignify whose lusty spirit the more  
We temper it with Audley's gravity,  
That courage and experience joined in one,  
Your manage may be second unto none,  
For the main battles I will guide myself,  
And Derby in the rearward march behind,  
That orderly disposed and set in ray,  
Let us to horse and God grant us the day.  Exeunt: Alarum. Enter a many French men flying. After them Prince Edward running. Then enter King john and Duke of Loraine. john. 
Oh Lorraine say, what mean our men to fly,  
Our number is far greater than our foes,  Lor. 
The garrison of Genoa's my Lord,  
That came from Paris weary with their march,  
Grudging to be suddenly employed,  
No sooner in the forefront took their place.  
But strait retiring so dismayed the rest,  
As likewise they betook themselves to flight  
In which for haste to make a safe escape,  
More in the clustering throng are priest to death,  
Then by the enemy a thousand fold.  K. Io: 
O hapless fortune, let us yet assay,  
If we can counsel some of them to stay.  Enter King Edward and Audley. Ki, E: 
Lord Audley, whiles our son is in the chase,  
With draw our powers unto this little hill,  
And here a season let us breathe ourselves,  Au. 
I will my Lord.  Exit, sound Retreat. K. Ed. 
Just dooming heaven, whose secret providence,  
To our gross judgement is inscrutable,  
How are we bound to praise thy wondrous works,  
That hast this day given way unto the right,  
And made the wicked stumble at themselves.  Enter Artoys. 
Rescue king Edward, rescue, for thy son,  King 
Rescue Artoys, what is he prisoner?  
Or by violence fell beside his horse.  Ar. 
Neither my Lord, but narrowly beset,  
With turning Frenchmen, whom he did pursue,  
As 'tis impossible that he should scape.  
Except your highness presently descend.  King 
Tut let him fight, we gave him arms today.  
And he is labouring for a knighthood man.  Enter Derby. Da: 
The Prince my Lord, the Prince, oh succour him,  
he's close encompassed with a world of odds.  Ki: 
Then will he win a world of honour to,  
If he by valour can redeem him thence,  
If not, what remedy, we have more sons,  
Than one to comfort our declining age.  Enter Audley. Au, 
Renowned Edward, give me leave I pray,  
To lead my soldiers where I may relieve,  
Your grace's son, in danger to be slain,  
The snares of French, like Emmets on a bank,  
Muster about him whilst he Lion like,  
Entangled in the net of their assaults,  
franticly rends and bits the woven toil,  
But all in vain, he cannot free himself.  K: Ed: 
Audley content, I will not have a man,  
On pain of death sent forth to succour him:  
This is the day, ordained by destiny,  
To season his courage with those grievous thoughts,  
That if he breaketh out, Nestor's years on earth,  
Will make him savour still of this exploit.  Dar: 
Ah but he shall not live to see those days,  Ki: 
Why then his Epitaph, is lasting praise.  An: 
Yet good my Lord, 'tis too much wilfulness,  
To let his blood be spilled that may be saved,  Kin. 
Exclaim no more, for none of you can tell,  
Whether a borrowed aid will serve or no,  
Perhaps he is already slain or ta'en:  
And dare a Falcon when she's in her flight,  
And ever after she'll be haggard like:  
Let Edward be delivered by our hands,  
And still in danger he'll expect the like,  
But if himself, himself redeem from thence,  
He will have vanquished cheerful death and fear,  
And ever after dread their force no more,  
Than if they were but babes or Captive slaves.  Aud. 
O cruel Father, farewell Edward then.  Da: 
Farewell sweet Prince, the hope of chivalry,  Art: 
O would my life might ransom him from death.  K. Ed: 
But soft methinks I hear,  
The dismal charge of Trumpets loud retreat:  
All are not slain I hope that went with him,  
Some will return with tidings good or bad.  Enter Prince Edward in triumph, bearing in his hand hit shivered Lance, and the King of Boheme, borne before, wrapped in the colours: They run and embrace him. Aud, 
O joyful sight, victorious Edward lives.  Der: 
Welcome brave Prince.  Ki: 
Welcome Plantagenet.  Pr. 
kneel and kiss his father's hand First having done my duty as beseemed  
Lords I'll greet you all with hearty thanks,  
And now behold after my winter's toil,  
My painful voyage on the boisterous sea,  
Of wars devouring gulfs and steely rocks,  
I bring my fraught unto the wished port,  
My Summer's hope, my travels sweet reward:  
And here with humble duty I present,  
This sacrifice, this first fruit of my sword,  
Cropped and cut down even at the gate of death:  
The king of Boheme father whom I slew,  
Whom you said, had entrenched me round about,  
And lay as thick upon my battered crest,  
As on an Anvil with their ponderous glaives,  
Yet marble courage, still did underprop,  
And when my weary arms with often blows,  
Like the continual labouring woodmans's Axe,  
That is enjoined to fell a load of Oakes,  
Began to falter, straight I would recover:  
My gifts you gave me, and my zealous vow,  
And then new courage made me fresh again,  
That in despite I craved my passage forth.  
And put the multitude to speedy flight: his Sword borne by a Soldier.  
Lo this hath Edward's hand filled your request,  
And done I hope the duty of a Knight  Ki: 
I well thou hast deserved a knighthood Ned,  
And therefore with thy sword, yet reeking warm,  
With blood of those that fought to be thy bane,  
Arise Prince Edward, trusty knight at arms,  
This day thou hast confounded me with joy,  
And proud thyself fit heir unto a king:  Pr: 
Here is a note my gracious Lord of those,  
That in this conflict of our foes were slain,  
Eleven Princes of esteem, four score Barons,  
A hundred and twenty knights, and thirty thousand  
Common soldiers, and of our men a thousand.  
Our God be praised, Now john of France I hope,  
Thou knowest King Edward for no wantonness,  
No love sick cockney nor his soldiers jades,  
But which way is the fearful king escaped?  Pr 
Towards Poitiers noble father, and his sons,  King. 
Ned, thou and Audley shall pursue them still,  
Myself and Derby will to Calice straight;  
And there begirt that Haven town with siege:  
Now lies it on an upshot, therefore strike,  
And wistly follow whiles the games on foot.  Ki. 
What Pictures this.  Pr 
A Pelican my Lord,  
Wounding her bosom with her crooked beak,  
That so her nest of young ones might be fed,  
With drops of blood that issue from her heart,  
The motto Sic & vos, and so should you,  Exeunt. Enter Lord Mountford with a Coronet in his hand, with him the Earl of Salisbury. Mo: 
My Lord of Salisbury since by our aid,  
Mine enemy Sir Charles of Bloys is slain,  
And I again am quietly possessed,  
In Britain's Dukedom, know that I resolve,  
For this kind furtherance of your king and you,  
To swear allegiance to his majesty:  
In sign where of receive this Coronet,  
Bear it unto him, and with all mine oath,  
Never to be but Edward's faithful friend.  Sa: 
I take it Mountfort, thus I hope ere long,  
The whole Dominions of the Realm of France  
willbe surrendered to his conquering hand: Exit  
Now if I knew but safely how to pass,  
I would to Calice gladly meet his Grace,  
Whether I am by letters certified.  
Yet he intends to have his host removed,  
It shall be so, this policy will serve,  
Ho whose's within? bring Villiers to me.  Enter Villeirs. 
Villiers, thou knowest thou art my prisoner,  
And that I might for ransom if I would,  
Require of thee a hundred thousand francs,  
Or else retain and keep thee captive still:  
But so it is, that for a smaller charge,  
Thou mayst be quit and if thou wilt thyself,  
And this it is, procure me but a passport,  
Of Charles the Duke of Normandy, that I,  
Without restraint may have recourse to Callis,  
Through all the Countries where he hath to do.  
Which thou mayst easily obtain I think,  
By reason I have often heard thee say,  
He and thou were students once together:  
And than thou shalt be set at liberty,  
How sayest thou, wilt thou undertake to do it?  Vil. 
I will my Lord, but I must speak with him.  Sa. 
Why so thou shalt, take Horse and post from hence,  
Only before thou goest, swear by thy faith,  
That if thou canst not compass my desire,  
Thou wilt return my prisoner back again,  
And that shallbe sufficient warrant for me.  Vil: 
To that condition I agree my Lord,  
And will unfeignedly perform the same.  Exit. Sal: 
Farewell Villiers,  
Thus once I mean to try a French man's faith.  Exit. Enter King Edward and Derby with Soldiers. King 
Since they refuse our proffered league my Lord,  
And will not ope their gates and let us in,  
We will entrench ourselves on every side,  
That neither victuals, nor supply of men,  
May come to succour this accursed town,  
Famine shall combat where our swords are stopped.  Enter six poor Frenchmen. Der. 
The promised aid that made them stand aloof,  
Is now retired and gone another way:  
It will repent them of their stubborn will,  
But what are these poor ragged slaves my Lord?  Ki: Edw: 
Ask what they are, it seems they come from Callis.  Der. 
You wretched patterns of despair and woe,  
What are you living men, ere gliding ghosts,  
Crept from your graves to walk upon the earth,  Poor: 
No ghosts my Lord, but men that breathe a life,  
Far worse than is the quiet sleep of death:  
we are distressed poor inhabitants,  
That long have been diseased, sick and lame;  
And now because we are not fit to serve,  
The Captain of the town hath thrust us forth,  
That so expense of victuals may be saved.  K. Ed. 
A charitable deed no doubt, and worthy praise:  
But how do you imagine then to speed?  
We are your enemies in such a case,  
We can no less but put ye to the sword,  
Since when we proffered truce, it was refused,  So: 
And if your grace no otherwise vouchsafe,  
As welcome death is unto us as life.  Ki: 
Poor silly men, much wronged, and more distressed,  
Go Derby go, and see they be relieved,  
Command that victuals be appointed them,  
And give to every one five Crowns a piece:  
The Lion scorns to touch the yielding prey,  
And Edward's sword must fresh itself in such,  
As wilful stubbornness hath made perverse.  Enter Lord Pearsie. Ki: 
Lord Persie welcome: what's the news in England:  Per: 
The Queen my Lord comes here to your Grace,  
And from her highness, and the Lord vicegerent,  
I bring this happy tidings of success,  
David of Scotland lately up in arms,  
Thinking belike he soonest should prevail,  
Your highness being absent from the Realm,  
Is by the fruitful service of your peers,  
And painful travel of the Queen herself:  
That big with child was every day in arms,  
Vanquished, subdued, and taken prisoner.  Ki: 
Thanks Persie for thy news with all my heart,  
What was he took him prisoner in the field.  Per. 
A Esquire my Lord, john Copland is his name:  
Who since entreated by her Majesty,  
Denies to make surrender of his prize,  
To any but unto your grace alone:  
Whereat the Queen is grievously displeased.  Ki: 
Well then we'll have a Pursuant dispatch,  
To summon Copland hither out of hand,  
And with him he shall bring his prisoner king.  Per: 
The Queen my Lord herself by this at Sea,  
And purposeth as soon as wind will serve,  
To land at Callis, and to visit you,  Ki: 
She shall be welcome, and to wait her coming,  
I'll pitch my tent near to the sandy shore.  Enter a Captain. 
The Burgesses of Callis mighty king,  
Have by a counsel willingly decreed,  
To yield the town and Castle to your hands,  
Upon condition it will please your grace,  
To grant them benefit of life and goods.  K. Ed. 
They will so: Then belike they may command,  
Dispose, elect, and govern as they list,  
No sirrah, tell them since they did refuse,  
Our princely clemency at first proclaimed,  
They shall not have it now although they would,  
Will accept of nought but fire and sword,  
Except within these two days six of them  
That are the wealthiest merchants in the town,  
Come naked all but for their linen shirts,  
With each a halter hanged about his neck,  
And prostrate yield themselves upon their knees,  
To be afflicted, hanged, or what I please,  
And so you may inform their masterships.  Exeunt Cap. 
Why this it is to trust a broken staff.  
Had we not been persuaded john our King,  
Would with his army have relieved the town,  
We had not stood upon defiance so:  
But now 't's past that no man can recall,  
And better some do go to wrack then all.  Exit. Enter Charles of Normandy and Villiers Ch: 
I wonder Villiers, thou shouldest importune me  
For one that is our deadly enemy.  Vil: 
Not for his sake my gracious Lord so much,  
Am I become an earnest advocate,  
As that thereby my ransom will be quit,  Ch: 
Thy ransom man: why needest thou talk of that?  
Art thou not free? and are not all occasions,  
That happen for advantage of our foes,  
To be accepted of, and stood upon?  Vil: 
No good my Lord except the same be just,  
For profit must with honour be commixed,  
Or else our actions are but scandalous:  
But letting pass these intricate objections,  
willit please your highness to subscribe or no?  Ch. 
Villiers I will not, nor I cannot do it,  
Salisbury shall not have his will so much,  
To claim a passport how it pleaseth himself,  Vil: 
Why then I know the extremity my Lord,  
I must return to prison whence I came,  
Ch Return, I hope thou wilt not,  
What bird that hath escaped the fowler's gin,  
Will not beware how she's ensnared again:  
Or what is he so senseless and secure,  
That having hardly past a dangerous gulf,  
Will put himself in peril there again.  Vil: 
Ah but it is mine oath my gracious Lord,  
Which I in conscience may not violate,  
Or else a kingdom should not draw me hence.  Ch: 
Thine oath, why that doth bind thee to abide:  
Hast thou not sworn obedience to thy Prince?  Vil: 
In all things that uprightly he commands:  
But either to persuade or threaten me,  
Not to perform the covenant of my word,  
Is lawless, and I need not to obey.  Ch: 
Why is it lawful for a man to kill,  
And not to break a promise with his foe?  Vil: 
To kill my Lord when war is once proclaimed,  
So that our quarrel be for wrongs received,  
No doubt is lawfully permitted us:  
But in an oath we must be well advised,  
How we do swear, and when we once have sworn,  
Not to infringe it though we die therefore:  
Therefore my Lord, as willing I return,  
As if I were to fly to paradise.  Ch: 
Stay my Villeirs, thine honourable mind,  
Deserves to be eternally admire,  
Thy suit shallbe no longer thus deferred:  
Give me the paper, I'll subscribe to it,  
And wheretofore I loved thee as Villeirs,  
Hereafter I'll embrace thee as my self,  
Stay and be still in favour with thy Lord.  Vil: 
I humbly thank your grace, I must dispatch,  
And send this passport first unto the Earl,  
And then I will attend your highness pleasure.  Ch. 
Do so Villeirs, and Charles when he hath need,  
Be such his soldiers, howsoever he speed.  Exit Villeirs. Enter King john. K. Io: 
Come Charles and arm thee, Edward is entrapped,  
The Prince of Wales is fallen into our hands,  
And we have compassed him he cannot scape.  Ch: 
But will your highness fight today.  Io: 
What else my son, he's scarce eight thousand strong  
and we are threescore thousand at the least,  Ch: 
I have a prophecy my gracious Lord,  
Wherein is written what success is like  
To happen us in this outrageous war,  
It was delivered me at cress's field,  
By one that is an aged Hermit there,  
when feathered soul shall make thine army tremble,  
and flint stones rise and break the battle ray:  
Then think on him that doth not now dissemble  
For that shallbe the hapless dreadful day,  
Yet in the end thy foot thou shalt advance,  
as far in England, as thy foe in France,  Io: 
By this it seems we shallbe fortunate:  
For as it is impossible that stones  
Should ever rise and break the battle ray,  
Or airy foul make men in arms to quake,  
So is it like we shall not be subdued:  
Or say this might be true, yet in the end,  
Since he doth promise we shall drive him hence,  
And forage their Country as they have done ours  
By this revenge, that loss will seem the less,  
But all are frivolous, fancies, toys and dreams,  
Once we are sure we have ensnared the son,  
Catch we the father after how we can.  Exeunt. Enter Prince Edward, Audley and others. Pr 
Audley the arms of death embrace us round,  
And comfort have we none save that to die,  
We pay sour earnest for a sweeter life,  
At Cressey field our Clouds of Warlike smoke,  
choked up those French mouths, & dissevered them  
But now their multitudes of millions hide  
Masking as 'twere the beauteous burning Sun,  
Leaving no hope to us but sullen dark,  
And eye less terror of all ending night.  Au. 
This sudden, mighty, and expedient head,  
That they have made, fair Prince is wonderful.  
Before us in the valley lies the king,  
vantaged with all that heaven and earth can yield,  
His party stronger battled than our whole:  
His son the braving Duke of normandy,  
Hath trimmed the Mountain on our right hand up,  
In shining plate, that now the aspiring hill,  
Shows like a silver quarry, or an orb  
Aloft the which the Banners banerets,  
And new replenished pendants cuff the air,  
And beat the winds, that for their gaudiness,  
Struggles to kiss them on our left handlies,  
Philip the younger issue of the king,  
Coting the other hill in such array,  
That all his guilded upright pikes do seem,  
Straight trees of gold, the pendant leaves,  
And their device of antic heraldry,  
Quartered in colours seeming sundry fruits,  
Makes it the Orchard of the Hesperides,  
Behind us two the hill doth bear his height,  
For like a half Moon opening but one way,  
It rounds us in, there at our backs are lodged,  
The fatal Crossbows, and the battle there,  
Is governed by the rough chattilion,  
Then thus it stands, the valley for our flight,  
The king binds in, the hills on either hand,  
Are proudly royalised by his sons,  
And on the Hill behind stands certain death,  
In pay and service with chattilion.  Pr 
deaths name is much more mighty than his deeds,  
Thy parcelling this power hath made it more,  
As many sands as these my hands can hold,  
are but my handful of so many sands,  
Than all the world, and call it but a power:  
Easily ta'en up and quickly thrown away,  
But if I stand to count them sand by sand  
The number would confound my memory,  
And make a thousand millions of a task,  
Which briefly is no more indeed than one,  
These quarters, squadrons, and these regiments,  
Before, behind us, and on either hand,  
Are but a power, when we name a man,  
His hand, his foot, his head hath several strengths,  
And being all but one self instant strength,  
Why all this many, Audely is but one,  
And we can call it all but one man's strength:  
He that hath far to go, tells it by miles,  
If he should tell the steps, it kills his heart:  
The drops are infinite that make a flood,  
And yet thou knowest we call it but a Rain:  
There is but one France, one king of France,  
That France hath no more kings, and that same king  
Hath but the puissant legion of one king?  
And we have one, then apprehend no odds,  
For one to one, is fair equality.  Enter an Herald from king john. Pr 
What tidings messenger, be plain and brief.  He: 
The king of France my sovereign Lord and master,  
Greets by me his foe, the Prince of Walls,  
If thou call forth a hundred men of name  
Of Lords, Knights, Esquires and English gentlemen,  
And with thyself and those kneel at his feet,  
He straight will fold his bloody colours up,  
And ransom shall redeem lives forfeited:  
If not, this day shall drink more English blood,  
Then ere was buried in our British earth,  
What is the answer to his proffered mercy?  Pr: 
This heaven that covers France contains the mercy  
That draws from me submissive orisons,  
That such base breath should vanish from my lips  
To urge the plea of mercy to a man,  
The Lord forbid, return and tell the king,  
My tongue is made of steel, and it shall beg  
My mercy on his coward burgonet.  
Tell him my colours are as red as his,  
My men as bold, our English arms as strong,  
return him my defiance in his face.  He. 
I go.  Enter another. Pr 
What news with thee?  He. 
I he Duke of normandy my Lord & master  
Pitying thy youth is so ingirt with peril,  
By me hath sent a nimble jointed jennet,  
As swift as ever yet thou didst bestride,  
And therewithal he counsel thee to fly,  
Else death himself hath sworn that thou shalt die.  P: 
Back with the beast unto the beast that sent him  
Tell him I cannot sit a coward's horse,  
Bid him to day bestride the jade himself,  
For I will stain my horse quite over with blood,  
And double guild my spurs, but I will catch him,  
So tell the capering boy, and get thee gone.  Enter another. He: 
Edward of Wales, Philip the second son  
To the most mighty christian king of France,  
Seeing thy bodies living date expired,  
All full of charity and christian love,  
Commends this book full fraught with prayers,  
To thy fair hand, and for thy hour of life,  
entreats thee that thou meditate therein,  
And arm thy soul for her long journey towards.  
Thus have I done his bidding, and return.  Pr. 
Herald of Philip greet thy Lord from me,  
All good that he can send I can receive,  
But thinkst thou not the unadvised boy,  
Hath wronged himself in this far tendering me,  
Happily he cannot pray without the book,  
I think him no divine extemporal,  
Then render back this common place of prayer,  
To do himself good in adversity,  
Besides, he knows not my sins quality,  
and therefore knows no prayers for my avail,  
Ere night his prayer may be to pray to God,  
To put it in my heart to hear his prayer,  
So tell the courtly wanton, and be gone.  He. 
I go.  Pr. 
How confident their strength and number makes them,  
Now Audley sound those silver wings of thine,  
And let those milk white messengers of time,  
Show thy times learning in this dangerous time,  
thyself art busy, and bit with many broils,  
And stratagems sore passed with iron pens,  
Are texted in thine honourable face,  
Thou art a married man in this distress.  
But danger woos me as a blushing maid,  
Teach me an answer to this perilous time.  Aud. 
To die is all as common as to live,  
The one in choice the other holds in chase,  
For from the instant we begin to live,  
We do pursue and hunt the time to die,  
First bud we, than we blow, and after seed,  
Then presently we fall, and as a shade  
Follows the body, so we follow death,  
If then we hunt for death, why do we fear it?  
If we fear it, why do we follow it?  
If we do tear, how can we shun it?  
If we do fear, with fear we do but aid  
The thing we fear, to seize on us the sooner,  
If we fear not, than no resolved proffer,  
Can overthrow the limit of our fate,  
For whether ripe or rotten, drop we shall,  
as we do draw the lottery of our doom.  Pri. 
Ah good old man, a thousand thousand armours,  
These words of thine have buckled on my back,  
Ah what an idiot hast thou made of life,  
To seek the thing it fears, and how disgraced,  
The imperial victory of murdering death,  
Since all the lives his conquering arrows strike,  
Seek him, and he not them, to shame his glory,  
I will not give a penny for a life,  
Nor half a half penny to shun grim death,  
Since for to live is but to seek to die,  
And dying but beginning of new life,  
Let come the hour when he that rules it will,  
To live or die I hold indifferent.  Exeunt. Enter king john and Charles. Ioh: 
A sudden darkness hath defaced the sky,  
The winds are crept into their caves for fear,  
the leaves move not, the world is hushed and still,  
the birds cease singing, and the wandering brooks,  
Murmur no wonted greeting to their shores,  
Silence attends some wonder, and expecteth  
That heaven should pronounce some prophesy,  
Where or from whom proceeds this silence Charles?  Ch: 
Our men with open mouths and staring eyes,  
Look on each other, as they did attend  
Each others words, and yet no creature speaks,  
A tongue-tied fear hath made a midnight hour,  
and speeches sleep through all the waking regions.  Ioh: 
But now the pompous Sun in all his pride,  
Looked through his golden coach upon the world,  
and on a sudden hath he hid himself,  
that now the under earth is as a grave,  
Dark, deadly, silent, and uncomfortable.  
A clamour of ravens Hark, what a deadly outcry do I hear?  Ch. 
Here comes my brother Philip.  Ioh. 
All dismayed. What fearful words are those thy looks presage?  Pr. 
A flight, a flight.  Ioh: 
Coward what flight? thou liest there needs no flight.  Pr. 
A flight.  King 
Awake thy craven powers, and tell on  
the substance of that very fear in deed,  
Which is so ghastly printed in thy face,  
What is the matter?  Pr. 
A flight of ugly ravens  
Do croak and hover o'er our soldiers heads,  
And keep in triangles and cornered squares,  
Right as our forces are embattled,  
With their approach there came this sudden fog,  
Which now hath hid the airy flower of heaven,  
And made at noon a night unnatural,  
Upon the quaking and dismayed world;  
In brief, our soldiers have let fall their arms,  
and stand like metamorphosed images,  
Bloodless and pale, one gazing on another.  Io: 
I now I call to mind the prophesy,  
But I must give no entrance to a fear,  
Return and hearten up these yielding souls,  
Tell them the ravens seeing them in arms,  
So many fair against a famished few,  
Come but to dine upon their handy work,  
and pray upon the carrion that they kill,  
For when we see a horse laid down to die,  
although not dead, the ravenous birds  
Sit watching the departure of his life,  
Even so these ravens for the carcases,  
Of those poor English that are marked to die,  
Hover about, and if they cry to us,  
'tis but for meat that we must kill for them,  
Away and comfort up my soldiers,  
and sound the trumpets, and at once dispatch  
This little business of a silly fraud.  Exit Pr. Another noise, Salisbury brought in by a French Captain. Cap: 
Behold my liege, this knight and forty more,  
Of whom the better part are slain and fled,  
With all endeavour sought to break our ranks,  
And make their way to the encompassed prince,  
Dispose of him as please your majesty.  Io: 
Go, & the next bough, soldier, that thou seest,  
Disgrace it with his body presently,  
For I do hold a tree in France too good,  
To be the gallows of an English thief.  Sa: 
My Lord of normandy, I have your pass,  
And warrant for my safety through this land.  Ch. 
Villiers procured it for thee, did he not?  Sal: 
He did.  Ch: 
And it is currant, thou shalt freely pass.  En: Io: 
I freely to the gallows to be hanged,  
Without denial or impediment.  
Away with him.  Vil. 
I hope your highness will not so disgrace me,  
and dash the virtue of my seal at arms,  
He hath my never broken name to show,  
Charactered with this princely hand of mine,  
and rather let me leave to be a prince,  
Than break the stable verdict of a prince,  
I do beseech you let him pass in quiet,  Ki: 
Thou and thy word lie both in my command,  
What canst thou promise that I cannot break?  
Which of these twain is greater infamy,  
To disobey thy father or thyself?  
Thy word nor no man's may exceed his power,  
Nor that same man doth never break his word,  
That keeps it to the utmost of his power.  
The breach of faith dwells in the soul's consent,  
Which if thyself without consent do break,  
Thou art not charged with the breach of faith,  
Go hang him, for thy licence lies in me,  
and my constraint stands the excuse for thee.  Ch. 
What am I not a soldier in my word?  
Then arms adieu, and let them fight that list,  
Shall I not give my girdle from my waist,  
But with a gardion I shall be controlled,  
To say I may not give my things away,  
Upon my soul, had Edward prince of Wales  
engaged his word, writ down his noble hand,  
For all your knights to pass his father's land,  
The royal king to grace his warlike son,  
Would not alone safe conduct give to them.  
But with all bounty feasted them and theirs.  King 
Dwellest thou on precedents, then be it so,  
Say Englishman of what degree thou art.  Sa: 
An Earl in England, though a prisoner here,  
And those that know me call me salisbury.  King 
Then salisbury, say whether thou art bound.  Sa. 
To Callice where my liege king Edward is.  King 
To Callice salisbury, then to Callice pack,  
and bid the king prepare a noble grave,  
To put his princely son black Edward in,  
and as thou travel'st westward from this place,  
Some two leagues hence there is a lofty hill,  
Whose top seems topless, for the embracing sky,  
Doth hide his high head in her a zure bosom,  
Upon whose tall top when thy foot attains,  
Look back upon the humble vale beneath,  
Humble of late, but now made proud with arms,  
and thence behold the wretched prince of Wales,  
hooped with a bond of iron round about,  
After which sight to Callice spur amain,  
and say the prince was smothered, and not slain,  
and tell the king this is not all his ill,  
For I will greet him ere he thinks I will,  
Away be gone, the smoke but of our shot,  
Will choke our foes, though bullets hit them not.  Exit. Alarum. Enter prince Edward and Artoys. Art: 
How fares your grace, are you not shot my Lord?  Pri: 
No dear Artoys, but choked with dust and smoke,  
And stepped aside for breath and fresher air.  Art. 
Breath then, and too it again, the amazed French  
are quite distract with gazing on the crows,  
and were our quivers full of shafts again,  
Your grace should see a glorious day of this,  
O for more arrows Lord, that's our want.  Pri. 
Courage Artoys, a fig for feathered shafts,  
When feathered fowls do bandy on our side,  
What need we fight, and sweat, and keep a coil,  
〈…〉 outscold our adversaries  
Up, up Artoys, the ground itself is armed,  
Fire containing flint, command our bows  
To hurl away their pretty coloured Ewe,  
and to it with stones, away Artoys, away,  
My soul doth prophesy we win the day.  Exeunt. Alarum. Enter king john. 
Our multitudes are in themselves confounded,  
Dismayed, and distraught, swift starting fear  
Hath buzzed a cold dismay through all our army,  
and every petty disadvantage prompts  
The fear possessed abject soul to fly,  
myself whose spirit is steel to their dull lead,  
What with recalling of the prophesy,  
and that our native stones from English arms  
Rebel against us, find myself attainted  
With strong surprise of weak and yielding fear.  Enter Charles. 
Fly father fly, the French do kill the French,  
Some that would stand, let drive at some that fly,  
Our drums strike nothing but discouragement,  
Our trumpets sound dishonour, and retire,  
The spirit of fear that feareth nought but death,  
Cowardly works confusion on itself.  Enter Phillip. 
Pluck out your eyes, and see not this days shame,  
An arm hath beat an army, one poor David  
Hath with a stone foiled twenty stout Goliaths,  
Some twenty naked starvelings with small flints,  
Hath driven back a puissant host of men,  
Arrayed and fenced in all accomplements,  Ioh: 
Mordiu they quait at us, and kill us up,  
No less than forty thousand wicked elders,  
Have forty lean slaves this day stoned to death.  Ch: 
O that I were some other countryman,  
This day hath set derision on the French,  
and all the world wilt blurt and scorn at us.  King 
What is there no hope left?  Pr 
No hope but death to bury up our shame,  Ki. 
Make up once more with me the twentieth part  
Of those that live, are men in owe to quail,  
The feeble handful on the adverse part.  Ch. 
Then charge again, if heaven be not opposed  
We cannot lose the day.  Kin. 
On away.  Exeunt Enter Audley wounded, & rescued by two squires. Esq. 
How fares my Lord;  Aud. 
even as a man may do  
That dines at such a bloody feast as this.  Esq. 
I hope my Lord that is no mortal scar,  Aud. 
No matter if it be, the count is cast,  
and in the worst ends but a mortal man,  
Good friends convey me to the princely Edward  
That in the crimson bravery of my blood,  
I may become him with saluting him,  
I'll smile and tell him that this open scar,  
Doth end the harvest of his Audley's war.  Ex. Enter prince Edward, king john, Charles, and all with Ensigns spread. Retreat sounded. Pri. 
Now john in France, & lately john of France,  
Thy bloody Ensigns are my captive colours,  
and you high vaunting Charles of normandy,  
That once to day sent me a horse to fly,  
are now the subjects of my clemency.  
Fie Lords, is it not a shame that English boys,  
Whose early days are yet not worth a beard,  
Should in the bosom of your kingdom thus,  
One against twenty beat you up together.  Kin. 
Thy fortune, not thy force hath conquered us.  Pri. 
an argument that heaven aids the right,  
See, see, Artoys doth bring with him along,  
the late good counsel giver to my soul,  
Welcome Artoys, and welcome Philip to,  
Who now of you or I have need to pray,  
Now is the proverb verified in you,  
Too bright a morning breeds a morning day.  Sound Trumpets, enter Audley. 
But say, what grim discouragement comes here,  
Alas what thousand armed men of France,  
Have writ that note of death in Audley's face:  
Speak thou that wooest death with thy careless smile  
and look'st so merrily upon thy grave,  
As if thou wert enamoured on thine end,  
What hungry sword hath so bereaved thy face,  
And lopped a true friend from my loving soul:  Au. 
O Prince thy sweet bemoaning speech to me.  
Is as a mournful knell to one dead sick.  Pr 
Dear Audley if my tongue ring out thy end:  
My arms shallbe the grave, what may I do,  
To win thy life, or to revenge thy death,  
If thou wilt drink the blood of captive kings,  
Or that it were restorative, command  
A Heath of king's blood, and I'll drink to thee,  
If honour may dispense for thee with death,  
The never dying honour of this day,  
Share wholly Audley to thyself and live.  Aud: 
Victorious Prince, that thou art so, behold  
A Caesar's fame in king's captivity;  
If I could hold dim death but at a bay,  
Till I did see my liege thy loyal father,  
My soul should yield this Castle of my flesh,  
This mangled tribute with all willingness;  
To darkness consummation, dust and Worms.  Pr 
cheerly bold man, thy soul is all too proud,  
To yield her City for one little breach,  
Should be divorced from her earthly spouse,  
By the soft temper of a French man's sword:  
Lo, to repair thy life, I give to thee,  
Three thousand Marks a year in English land.  Au: 
I take thy gift to pay the debts I owe:  
These two poor Esquires redeemed me from the French  
With lusty & dear hazard of their lives;  
What thou hast given me I give to them,  
And as thou lovest me Prince, lay thy consent.  
To this bequeath in my last testament.  Pr 
Renowned Audley, live and have from me,  
This gift twice doubled to these Esquires and thee  
But live or die, what thou hast given away,  
To these and theirs shall lasting freedom stay,  
Come gentlemen, I will see my friend bestowed,  
With in an easy Litter, then we'll march,  
Proudly toward Callis with triumphant pace,  
Unto my royal father, and there bring,  
The tribute of my wars, fair France his king.  Ex. Enter six Citizens in their Shirts, bare foot, with halters about their necks. Enter King Edward, Queen Phillip, Derby, soldiers. Ed. 
No more Queen Philip, pacify yourself,  
Copland, except he can excuse his fault,  
Shall find displeasure written in our looks,  
And now unto this proud resisting town,  
soldiers assault, I will no longer stay,  
To be deluded by their false delays,  
Put all to sword, and make the spoil your own.  All: 
Mercy king Edward, mercy gracious Lord.  Ki: 
Contemptuous villains, call ye now for truce?  
Mine ears are stopped against your bootless cries,  
Sound drums alarum, draw threatening swords?  All: 
Ah noble Prince, take pity on this town,  
And hear us mighty king:  
We claim the promise that your highness made,  
The two days respite is not yet expired,  
And we are come with willingness to bear,  
What torturing death or punishment you please,  
So that the trembling multitude be saved,  Ki: 
My promise, well I do confess as much;  
But I require the chiefest Citizens,  
And men of most account that should submit,  
You peradventure are but servile grooms,  
Or some felonious robbers on the Sea,  
Whom apprehended law would execute,  
Albeit severity lay dead in us,  
No no ye cannot overreach us thus,  Two: 
The Sun dread Lord that in the western fall,  
Beholds us now low brought through misery,  
Did in the Orient purple of the morn,  
Salute our coming forth when we were known  
Or may our portion be with damned fiends,  Ki: 
If it be so, then let our covenant stand,  
We take possession of the town in peace,  
But for yourselves look you for no remorse,  
But as imperial justice hath decreed,  
Your bodies shallbe dragged about these walls,  
And after feel the stroke of quartering steel,  
This is your doom, go soldiers see it done.  Qu: 
Ah be more mild unto these yielding men,  
It is a glorious thing to stablish peace,  
And kings approach the nearest unto God,  
By giving life and safety unto men,  
As thou intendest to be king of France,  
So let her people live to call thee king,  
For what the sword cuts down or fire hath spoiled  
Is held in reputation none of ours.  Ki: 
Although experience teach us, this is true,  
That peaceful quietness brings most delight,  
When most of all abuses are controlled,  
Yet insomuch, it shallbe known that we,  
as well can master our affections,  
As conquer other by the dint of sword,  
Philip prevail, we yield to thy request,  
These men shall live to boast of clemency,  
And tyranny strike terror to thyself.  Two: 
long live your highness, happy be your reign  Ki: 
Go get you hence, return unto the town,  
And if this kindness hath deserved your love,  
Learn then to reverence Edw. as your king. Ex.  
Now might we hear of our affairs abroad,  
We would till gloomy Winter were over spent,  
Dispose our men in garrison a while,  
But who comes here?  Enter Copland and King David. De, 
Copland my Lord, and David King of Scots;  Ki: 
Is this the proud presumptuous Esquire of the North,  
That would not yield his prisoner to my Queen,  Cop: 
I am my liege a Northern Esquire indeed,  
But neither proud nor insolent I trust.  Ki: 
What moved thee then to be so obstinate,  
To contradict our royal queen's desire?  Co. 
No wilful disobedience mighty Lord,  
But my desert and public law at arms.  
I took the king myself in single fight,  
and like a soldier would be loath to lose  
The least pre-eminence that I had won.  
And Copland straight upon your highness charge,  
Is come to France, and with a lowly mind,  
Doth vale the bonnet of his victory:  
Receive dread Lord the custom of my fraught,  
The wealthy tribute of my labouring hands,  
Which should long since have been surrendered up  
Had but your gracious self been there in place,  Q 
But Copland thou didst scorn the kings command  
Neglecting our commission in his name.  Cop. 
His name I reverence, but his person more,  
His name shall keep me in allegiance still,  
But to his person I will bend my knee.  King. 
I pray thee Philip let displeasure pass:  
This man doth please me, and I like his words,  
For what is he that will attempt great deeds  
and lose the glory that ensues the same,  
all rivers have recourse unto the Sea,  
and Coplands faith relation to his king,  
Kneel therefore down, now rise king Edward's knight,  
and to maintain thy state I freely give,  
Five hundred marks a year to thee and thine  
Welcome Lord salisbury, what news from Britain  Enter Salisbury. Sa: 
This mighty king, the Country we have won,  
And Charles de Mountford regent of that place,  
Presents your highness with this Coronet,  
Protesting true allegiance to your Grace.  Ki: 
We thank thee for thy service valiant Earl  
Challenge our favour for we owe it thee:  Sa: 
But now my Lord, as this is joyful news,  
So must my voice be tragical again,  
and I must sing of doleful accidents,  Ki: 
What have our men the overthrow at Poitiers,  
Oris our son beset with too much odds?  Sa. 
He was my Lord, and as my worthless self,  
With forty other serviceable knights,  
Under safe conduct of the dolphin's seal,  
Did travail that way, finding him distressed,  
A troop of lances met us on the way,  
Surprised and brought us prisoners to the king,  
Who proud of this, and eager of revenge,  
Commanded straight to cut of all our heads,  
And surely we had died but that the Duke,  
More full of honour then his angry sire,  
Procured our quick deliverance from thence,  
But ere we went, salute your king, quoth he,  
Bid him provide a funeral for his son,  
Today our sword shall cut his thread of life,  
And sooner than he thinks we'll be with him:  
To quittance those displeasures he hath done,  
This said, we passed, not daring to reply,  
Our hearts were dead, our looks diffused and wan,  
wandering at last we climbed unto a hill,  
From whence although our grief were much before  
Yet now to see the occasion with our eyes,  
Did thrice so much increase our heaviness,  
For there my Lord, oh there we did descry  
Down in a valley how both armies lay:  
The French had cast their trenches like a ring,  
And every Barricado's open front,  
Was thick embossed with brazen ordinance.  
Here stood a battle of ten thousand horse,  
There twice as many pikes in quadrant wise,  
Here Crossbows and deadly wounding darts,  
And in the midst like to a slender point,  
Within the compass of the horizon,  
as 'twere a rising bubble in the sea.  
A Hast wand a midst a wood of pines,  
Or as a bear fast chained unto a stake,  
Stood famous Edward still expecting when  
Those dogs of France would fasten on his flesh  
Anon the death procuring knell begins,  
Off go the Cannons that with trembling noise,  
Did shake the very Mountain where they stood,  
Then sound the Trumpets clangor in the air,  
The battles join, and when we could no more,  
Discern the difference twixt the friend and so,  
So intricate the dark confusion was,  
Away we turned our watery eyes with sighs,  
as black as powder fuming into smoke,  
And thus I fear, unhappy have I told,  
The most untimely tale of Edward's fall.  Qu: 
Ah me, is this my welcome into France:  
Is this the comfort that I looked to have,  
When I should meet with my beloved son:  
Sweet Ned, I would thy mother in the sea  
Had been prevented of this mortal grief.  Ki: 
Content thee Philip, 'tis not tears will serve,  
To call him back, if he be taken hence,  
Comfort thyself as I do gentle Queen,  
With hope of sharp unheard of dire revenge,  
He bids me to provide his funeral.  
And so I will, but all the Peers in France,  
Shall mourners be, and weep out bloody tears,  
Until their empty veins be dry and sere  
The pillars of his hearse shall be his bones,  
The mould that covers him, their City ashes,  
His knell the groaning cries of dying men,  
And in the stead of tapers on his tomb,  
an hundred fifty towers shall burning blaze,  
While we bewail our valiant sons decease.  After a flourish sounded within, enter an herald. He. 
Rejoice my Lord, ascend the imperial throne  
The mighty and redoubted prince of Wales,  
Great servitor to bloody Mars in arms,  
The French man's terror and his country's fame,  
Triumphant rideth like a Roman peer,  
and lowly at his stirrup comes afoot  
King john of France, together with his son,  
In captive bonds, whose diadem he brings  
To crown thee with, and to proclaim thee king  Ki. 
Away with mourning Philip, wipe thine eyes  
Sound Trumpets, welcome in Plantagenet.  Enter Prince Edward, king john, Phillip, Audley, Artoys. Ki: 
As things long lost when they are found again,  
So doth my son rejoice his father's heart,  
For whom even now my soul was much perplexed  Q. 
Be this a token to express my joy, kiss him.  
For inward passions will not let me speak.  Pr. 
My gracious father, here receive the gift,  
This wreath of conquest, and reward of war,  
Got with as mickle peril of our lives,  
as ere was thing of price before this day,  
Install your highness in your proper right,  
and here withal I render to your hands  
These prisoners, chief occasion of our strife.  King 
So john of France, I see you keep your word  
You promised to be sooner with ourself  
Then we did think for, and 'tis so in deed,  
But had you done at first as now you do,  
How many civil towns had stood untouched,  
That now are turned to ragged heaps of stones?  
How many people's lives mightst thou have saved,  
that are untimely sunk into their graves.  Io: 
Edward, recount not things irrevocable,  
Tell me what ransom thou requirest to have?  King 
Thy ransom john, hereafter shall be known  
But first to England thou must cross the seas,  
To see what entertainment it affords,  
howe'er it falls, it cannot be so bad,  
as ours hath been since we arrived in France,  Ioh: 
Accursed man, of this I was fortold,  
But did misconstrue what the prophet told.  Pri: 
Now father this petition Edward makes,  
To thee whose grace hath been his strongest shield  
That as thy pleasure chose me for the man,  
To be the instrument to show thy power,  
So thou wilt grant that many princes more,  
Bred and brought up within that little Isle,  
May still be famous for like victories:  
and for my part, the bloody scars I bear,  
The weary nights that I have watched in field,  
The dangerous conflicts I have often had,  
The fearful menaces were proffered me,  
The heat and cold, and what else might displease  
I wish were now redoubled twenty fold,  
So that hereafter ages when they read  
The painful traffic of my tender youth  
Might thereby be inflamed with such resolve,  
as not the territories of France alone,  
But likewise Spain, Turkey, and what countries else  
That justly would provoke fair England's ire,  
Might at their presence tremble and retire.  King 
Here English Lords we do proclaim a rest  
an intercession of our painful arms,  
Sheath up your swords, refresh your weary limbs,  
Peruse your spoils, and after we have breathed.  
a day or two within this haven town,  
God willing then for England we'll be shipped,  
Where in a happy hour I trust we shall  
Arrive three kings, two princes, and a queen.  
FINIS.