Shakespeare's Kings (133 page)

k.
ed
. Upbraid'st thou him, because within his face

Time hath engrav'd deep characters of age?

Know that these grave scholars of experience,

Like stiff-grown oaks, will stand immovable,

When whirlwind quickly turns up younger trees.

der
. 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-born sovereign, this, or that.

phil
. Father, range your battles, prate no more;

These English fain would spend the time in words,

That, night approaching, they might escape unfought.

k.
john
. Lords and my loving subjects, now's 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 reins you with a mild and gende bit;

He against whom you fight, if he prevail,

Will straight enthrone himself in tyranny,

Make slaves of you, and with a heavy hand

Curtail 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 th' other 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 feather-beds,

And, prese
ntly
, they are as resty-stiff

As 'twere a many over-ridden jades.

Then, Frenchmen, scorn that such should be your lords,

And rather bind ye them in captive bands.

(III, iii)
F
rench
. Vive le Roy! God save King John of France!

k. john
. Now on this plain of Cressy spread yourselves,

-And Edward, when thou dar'st, begin the fight.

[Exeunt King John, Charles, Philip,

Lorraine, Bohemia, and Forces]

k. ed
. We prese
ntly
will meet thee, John of France:

-And, English lords, let us resolve to-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 fought'st 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, herals, 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.

Edward Plantagenet, in the name of God,

As with this armour I impall thy breast,

So be thy noble unrelenting heart

Wall'd in with flint of matchless fortitude

That never base affections enter there;

Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou com'st! -

Now follow, lords, and do him honour too.

der.
[Receiving the helmet]

Edward Plantagenet, Prince of Wales,

As I do set this helmet on thy head,

Wherewith the chamber of thy brain is fenc'd,

So may thy temples, with Bellona's hand,

Be still adorn'd with laurel victory;

Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou com'st!

aud.
[Receiving the lance]

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 honour's books;

Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou com'st!

art.
[Receiving the shield]

Edward Plantagenet, Prince of Wales,

Hold, take this target, wear it on thy arm;

And may the view thereof, like Perseus' shield,

(III, iii) Astonish and transform thy gazing foes

To senseless images of meagre death;

Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou com'st!

k. ed
. Now wants there nought but knighthood; which deferr'd

We leave till thou hast won it in the field.

[pr. ed
.] 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

When as he breath'd his blessings on his sons.

These hallow'd 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 thus our steeled battles shall be rang'd; -

The leading of the vaward, Ned, is thine;

To dignify whose lusty spirit the more,

We temper it with Audley's gravity;

That, courage and experience join'd 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 dispos'd and set in 'ray,

Let us to horse; and God grant us the day!

Exeunt

scene
iv
The Same

Alarum. Enter a many Frenchmen fleeing.

After them Prince Edward, running.

Then enter King John and Duke of Lorraine.

k. john
. O Lorraine, say, what mean our men to fly?

Our number is far greater than our foes.

lor
. The garrison of Genoese, my lord,

That came from Paris, weary with their march,

Grudging to be suddenly employ'd,

No sooner in the fore-front took their place,

But, straight retiring, so dismay'd the rest

As likewise they betook themselves to flight;

(III, iv) In which, for haste to make a safe escape,

More in the clust'ring throng are press'd to death,

Than by the enemy, a thousand-fold.

k. john.
O hapless fortune! Let us yet assay

If we can counsel some of them to stay.

[Exeunt]

Enter King Edward and Audley

k. ed
. Lord Audley, whiles our son is in the chase,

Withdraw your powers unto this little hill,

And here a season let us breathe ourselves.
aud
. I will, my lord.
Exit. Sound Retreat

k. ed
. Just-dooming Heaven, whose secret providence

To our gross judgment is inscrutable,

How are we bound to praise thy wondrous, works,

That hast this day giv'n way unto the right

And made the wicked stumble at themselves!

Enter Artois

[art
.] Rescue, King Edward! rescue for thy son!

k. ed
. Rescue, Artois? what, is he prisoner?

Or by violence fell beside his horse?

art
. Neither, my lord; but narrowly beset

With turning Frenchmen whom he did pursue,

As 'tis impossible that he should scape

Except your highness prese
ntly
descend.

k. ed
. Tut, let him fight; we gave him arms to-day,

And he is labouring for a knighthood, man.

Enter Derby

der
. The prince, my lord, the prince! O, succour him;

He's close encompass'd with a world of odds!

k. ed
. Then will he win a world of honour too

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

aud
. 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,

Frantic'ly rends and bites the woven toil:

(III, iv) 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 ordain'd by destiny

To season his courage with those grievous thoughts,

That, if he break out, Nestor's years on earth,

Will make him savour still of this exploit.

der
. Ah, but he shall not live to see those days.

k. ed
. Why, then his epitaph is lasting praise.

aud
. Yet, good my lord, 'tis too much wilfulness,

To let his blood be spilt that may be sav'd.

k. ed
. Exclaim no more; for none of you can tell

Whether a borrow'd 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 deliver'd by our hands,

And still in danger he'll expect the like;

But if himself himself redeem from thence,

He will have vanquish'd, 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!
der
. Farewell, sweet prince, the hope of chivalry!
art
. O, would my life might ransom him from death!
k. ed
. But, soft, methinks I hear
[Retreat sounded]

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 his shivered lance, and the King of

Bohemia, borne before wrapped in the colours.

They run and embrace him.

aud
. O joyful sight! victorious Edward lives!

der
. Welcome, brave prince!

k. ed
. Welcome, Plantagenet!

pr. ed
. First having done my duty, as beseem'd,