In mirthful jollity, till winter come;
And then too late he would redeem his time
When frozen cold hath nipp'd his careless head.
He, that no sooner will provide a cloak
Than when he sees it doth begin to rain,
May, peradventure, for his negligence,
Be throughly wash'd down 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 reliev'd.
1 [FR.] Belike, you then despair of all success
And think your country will be subjugate.
[2 CIT.] We cannot tell; 'tis good to fear the worst.
1 [FR.] Yet rather fight, than like unnatural sons
Forsake your loving parents in distress.
[1 CIT.] 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 remov'd.
WOM. Besides, there goes a prophecy abroad,
(III, ii) Publish'd by one that was a friar once
Whose oracles have many times prov'd true;
And now he says, 'The time will shortly come,
When as a lion, roused in the west,
Shall carry hence the flower-de-luce of France':
These, I can tell ye, and such-like surmises
Strike many Frenchmen cold unto the heart.
Enter a Frenchman
[3 FR.] Fly, countrymen and citizens of France!
Sweet-flow'ring peace, the root of happy life,
Is quite abandon'd and expuls'd the land:
Instead of whom, ransack-constraining war
Sits like to ravens upon your houses' tops;
Slaughter and mischief walk within your streets,
And, unrestrain'd, 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,
Corn-fields and vineyards burning like an oven;
And, as the reeking vapour in the wind
Turn'd but aside, I likewise might discern
The poor inhabitants, escap'd 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 his hot unbridled son,
And in the midst our nation's 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 off.
Here if you stay, your wives will be abus'd,
Your treasure shar'd before your weeping eyes.
Shelter you yourselves, for now the storm doth rise.
Away, away! methinks, I hear their drums.
Ah, wretched France, I gready fear thy fall;
Thy glory shaketh like a tottering wall.
(III, iii)
SCENE III The Same.
Enter King Edward, and the Earl of Derby,
with soldiers and Gobin de Grey.
K. ED. Where's the Frenchman, by whose cunning guide
We found the shallow of this river Somme,
And had direction how to pass the sea?
GOB. Here, my good lord.
K. ED. How art thou called? tell me thy name.
GOB. Gobin de Grey, if please your excellence.
K. ED. Then, Gobin, for the service thou hast done,
We here enlarge and give thee liberty;
And, for recompense, 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 Artois
ART. Good news, my lord; the prince is hard at hand,
And with him comes Lord Audley and the rest,
Whom since our landing we could never meet.
Enter Prince Edward, Lord Audley, and soldiers
K. ED. 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 Harflew, Lo, Crotaye, and Carentine,
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 pardon'd;
But who in scorn refus'd our proffer'd peace,
Endur'd the penalty of sharp revenge.
K. ED. Ah, France, why shouldst thou be thus 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?
(III, iii) PR. ED. Yes, my good lord, and not two hours ago,
With full a hundred thousand fighting men,
Upon the one side of the river's bank,
And on the other both his multitudes.
I fear'd he would have cropp'd our smaller power:
But, happily, perceiving your approach
He hath withdrawn himself to Cressy plains;
Where, as it seemeth by his good array,
He means to bid us battle presently.
K. ED. He shall be welcome, that's the thing we crave.
Enter King John, Dukes of Normandy and
Lorraine, King of Bohemia, young Philip, and soldiers.
K. 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 nor fruitful grain is had,
Dost altogether live by pilfering:
Next, - insomuch thou hast infring'd 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 so much inferior to myself;
Yet, in respect thy thirst is all for gold,
Thy labour rather to be fear'd than lov'd, -
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 ent'ring conflict with the arm'd,
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; -
(III, iii) If thou ha
ve utter'd 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 assur'd 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;
How, since my landing, I have won no towns,
Enter'd no further but upon the coast,
And there have ever since securely slept.
But if I have been otherwise employ'd,
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 into his grave.
PR. ED. Look not for cross invectives at our hands
Or railing execrations of despite:
Let creeping serpents hid in hollow banks
Sting with their tongues; we have remorseless swords,
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 curst, receive eternal shame!
K. 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 sickle's thrust into the corn
Or that enkindled fury turn to flame?
K. JOHN. Edward, I know what right thou hast in France,
And ere I basely will resign my crown
This champion field shall be a pool of blood
And all our prospect as a slaughter-house.
PR. ED. Ay, that approves thee, tyrant, what thou art:
No father, king or shepherd of thy realm;
But one that tears her entrails with thy hands
(III, iii) And, like a thirsty tiger, suck'st her blood.
AUD. YOU peers of France, why do you follow him
That is so prodigal to spend your lives?
CHAR. Whom should they follow, aged impotent,
But he that is their true-born sovereign?
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, presently, 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) FRENCH. 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 presently 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 ben
efit 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?
Shakespeare's Kings Page 46
