Edward III (play)/Act 4

by William Shakespeare (attributed) and Thomas Kyd (attributed)

Enter Lord Mountford with a Coronet in his hande, with him
the Earle of Salisbury.

Mo: My Lord of Salisbury since by our aide,
Mine ennemie Sir Charles of Bloys is slaine,
And I againe am quietly possest,
In Btittaines Dukedome, knowe that I resolue,
For this kind furtherance of your king and you,
To sweare allegeance to his maiesty:
In figne where of receiue this Coronet,
Beare it vnto him, and with all mine othe,
Neuer to be but Edwards faithful friend.

Sa: I take it Mountfort, thus I hope eare long,
The whole Dominions of the Realme of Fraunce
ExitWilbe surrendred to his conquering hand:
Now if I knew but safely how to passe,
I would to Calice gladly meete his Grace,
Whether I am by letters certified.
Yet he intends to haue his host remooude,
It shal be so, this pollicy will serue,
Ho whose within? bring Villiers to me.
Enter Villeirs.
Villiers, thou knowest thou art my prisoner,
And that I might for ransome if I would,
Require of thee a hundred thousand Francks,
Or else retayne and keepe thee captiue still:
But so it is, that for a smaller charge,
Thou maist be quit and if thou wilt thy selfe,
And this it is, procure me but a pasport,
Of Charles the Duke of Normandy, that I,
Without restraint may haue recourse to Callis,
Through all the Countries where he hath to doe.
Which thou maist easely obtayne I thinke,
By reason I haue often heard thee say,
He and thou were students once together:
And then thou shalt be set at libertie,
How saiest thou, wilt thou vndertake to do it?

Vil. I will my Lord, but I must speake with him.

Sa. Why so thou shalt, take Horse and post from hence,
Onely before thou goest, sweare by thy faith,
That if thou canst not compasse my desire,
Thou wilt returne my prisoner backe againe,
And that shalbe sufficient warrant for mee.

Vil: To that condition I agree my Lord,
Exit.And will vnfaynedly performe the same.

Sal: Farewell Villiers,
Exit.Thus once I meane to trie a French mans faith.

Enter King Edward and Derby with Souldiers.

Kin: Since they refuse our profered league my Lord,
And will not ope their gates and let vs in,
We will intrench our selues on euery side,
That neither vituals, nor supply of men,
May come to succour this accursed towne,
Famine shall combate where our swords are stopt.

Enter sixe poore Frenchmen.

Der. The promised aid that made them stand aloofe,
Is now retirde and gone an other way:
It will repent them of their stubborne will,
But what are these poore ragged slaues my Lord?

Ki. Edw: Aske what they are, it seemes they come from Callis.

Der. You wretched patterns of dispayre and woe,
What are you liuing men, er glyding ghosts,
Crept from your graues to walke vpon the earth,

Poore: No ghosts my Lord, but men that breath a life,
Farre worse then is the quiet sleepe of death:
Wee are distressed poore inhabitants,
That long haue been deseased, sicke and lame;
And now because we are not fit to serue,
The Captayne of the towne hath thrust vs foorth,
That so expence of victuals may be saued.

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 lesse but put ye to the sword,
Since when we proffered truce, it was refusde,

So: And if your grace no otherwise vouchsafe,
As welcome death is vnto vs as life.

Ki: Poore silly men, much wrongd, and more distrest,
Go Derby go, and see they be relieud,
Command that victuals be appoynted them,
And giue to euery one fiue Crownes a peece:
The Lion scornes to touch the yeelding pray,
And Edwards sword must fresh it selfe in such,
As wilfull stubbornnes hath made peruerse.

Enter Lord Pearsie.

Ki: Lord Persie welcome: whats the newes in England:

Per: The Queene my Lord comes heere to your Grace,
And from hir highnesse, and the Lord vicegerent,
I bring this happie tidings of successe,
Dauid of Scotland lately vp in armes,
Thinking belike he soonest should preuaile,
Your highnes being absent from the Realme,
Is by the fruitfull seruice of your peeres,
And painefull trauell of the Queene her selfe:
That big with child was euery day in armes,
Vanquisht, subdude, and taken prisoner.

Ki: Thanks Persie for thy newes with all my hart,
What was he tooke him prisoner in the field.

Per. A Esquire my Lord, Iohn Copland is his name:
Who since intreated by her Maiestie,
Denies to make surrender of his prize,
To anie but vnto your grace alone:
Whereat the Queene is greouously displeasd.

Ki: Well then wele haue a Pursiuaunt dispatch,
To summon Copland hither out of hand,
And with him he shall bring his prisoner king.

Per: The Queene my Lord her selfe by this at Sea,
And purposeth as soone as winde will serue,
To land at Callis, and to visit you,

Ki: She shall be welcome, and to wait her comming,
Ile pitch my tent neere to the sandy shore.
Enter a Captayne.
The Burgesses of Callis mighty king,
Haue by a counsell willingly decreed,
To yeeld the towne and Castle to your hands,
Vpon condition it will please your grace,
To graunt them benefite of life and goods.

K. Ed. They wil so: Then belike they may command,
Dispose, elect, and gouerne as they list,
No sirra, tell them since they did refuse,
Our princely clemencie at first proclaymed,
They shall not haue it now although they would,
Will accept of nought but fire and sword,
Except within these two daies sixe of them
That are the welthiest marchaunts in the towne,
Come naked all but for their linnen shirts,
With each a halter hangd about his necke,
And prostrate yeeld themselues vpon their knees,
To be afflicted, hanged, or what I please,
ExeuntAnd so you may informe their masterships.

Cap. Why this it is to trust a broken staffe.
Had we not been perswaded Iohn our King,
Would with his armie haue releeud the towne,
We had not stood vpon defiance so:
But nowt's past that no man can recall,
Exit,And better some do go to wrack then all.

Enter Charles of Normandy and Villiers

Ch: I wounder Villiers, thou shouldest importune me
For one that is our deadly ennemie.

Vil: Not for his sake my gratious Lord so much,
Am I become an earnest aduocate,
As that thereby my ransome will be quit,

Ch: Thy ransome man: why needest thou talke of that?
Art thou not free? and are not all occasions,
That happen for aduantage of our foes,
To be accepted of, and stood vpon?

Vil: No good my Lord except the same be iust,
For profit must with honor be comixt,
Or else our actions are but scandalous:
But letting passe these intricate obiections,
Wilt please your highnes to subscribe or no?

Ch. Villiers I will not, nor I cannot do it,
Salisbury shall not haue his will so much,
To clayme a pasport how it pleaseth himselfe,

Vil: Why then I know the extremitie my Loid,
I must returne to prison whence I came,

Ch Returne, I hope thou wilt not,
What bird that hath escapt the fowlers gin,
Will not beware how shees insnard againe:
Or what is he so senceles and secure,
That hauing hardely past a dangerous gulfe,
Will put him selfe in perill there againe.

Vil: Ah but it is mine othe my gratious Lord,
Which I in conscience may not violate,
Or else a kingdome should not draw me hence.

Ch: Thine othe, why that doth bind thee to abide:
Hast thou not sworne obedience to thy Prince?

Vil: In all things that vprightly he commands:
But either to perswade or threaten me,
Not to performe the couenant of my word,
Is lawlesse, and I need not to obey.

Ch: Why is it lawfull for a man to kill,
And not to breake a promise with his foe?

Vil: To kill my Lord when warre is once proclaymd,
So that our quarrel be for wrongs receaude,
No doubt is lawfully permitted vs:
But in an othe we must be well aduisd,
How we do sweare, and when we once haue sworne,
Not to infringe it though we die therefore:
Therefore my Lord, as willing I returne,
As if I were to flie to paradise.

Ch: Stay my Villeirs, thine honorable minde,
Deserues to be eternally admirde,
Thy sute shalbe no longer thus deferd:
Giue me the paper, Ile subscribe to it,
And wheretofore I loued thee as Villeirs,
Heereafter Ile embrace thee as my felfe,
Stay and be still in fauour with thy Lord.

Vil: I humbly thanke your grace, I must dispatch,
And send this pasport first vnto the Earle,
And then I will attend your highnes pleasure.

Ch. Do so Villeirs, and Charles when he hath neede,
Exit Villeirs.Be such his souldiers, howsoeuer he speede.

Enter King Iohn.

K. Io: Come Charles and arme thee, Edward is intrapt,
The Prince of Wales is falne into our hands,
And we haue compast him he cannot scape.

Ch: But will your highnes fight to day.

Io: What else my son, hees scarce eight thousand strong
and we are threescore thousand at the least,

Ch: I haue a prophecy my gratious Lord,
Wherein is written what successe is like
To happen vs in this outragious warre,
It was deliuered me at Cresses field,
By one that is an aged Hermyt there,
when fethered soul shal make thine army tremble,
and flint stones rise and breake the battell ray:
Then thinke on him that doth not now dissemble
For that shalbe the haples dreadfull day,
Yet in the end thy foot thou shalt aduance,
as farre in England, as thy foe in Fraunce,

Io: By this it seemes we shalbe fortunate:
For as it is impossible that stones
Should euer rise and breake the battaile ray,
Or airie foule make men in armes to quake,
So is it like we shall not be subdude:
Or say this might be true, yet in the end,
Since he doth promise we shall driue him hence,
And forrage their Countrie as they haue don ours
By this reuenge, that losse will seeme the lesse,
But all are fryuolous, fancies, toyes and dreames,
Once we are sure we haue insnard the sonne,
Exeunt.Catch we the father after how we can.

Enter Prince Edward, Audley and others.

Pr: Audley the armes of death embrace vs round,
And comfort haue we none saue that to die,
We pay sower earnest for a sweeter life,
At Cressey field our Clouds of Warlike smoke,
chokt vp those French mouths, & disseuered them
But now their multitudes of millions hide
Masking as twere the beautious burning Sunne,
Leauing no hope to vs but sullen darke,
And eie lesse terror of all ending night.

Au. This suddaine, mightie, and expedient head,
That they haue made, faire Prince is wonderfull.
Before vs in the vallie lies the king,
Vantagd with all that heauen and earth can yeeld,
His partie stronger battaild then our whole:
His sonne the brauing Duke of Normandie,
Hath trimd the Mountaine on our right hand vp,
In shining plate, that now the aspiring hill,
Shewes like a siluer quarrie, or an orbe
Aloft the which the Banners bannarets,
And new replenisht pendants cuff the aire,
And beat the windes, that for their gaudinesse,
Struggles to kisse them on our left handlies,
Phillip the younger issue of the king,
Coting the other hill in such arraie,
That all his guilded vpright pikes do seeme,
Streight trees of gold, the pendant leaues,
And their deuice of Antique heraldry,
Quartred in collours seeming sundy fruits,
Makes it the Orchard of the Hesperides,
Behinde vs two the hill doth beare his height,
For like a halfe Moone opening but one way,
It rounds vs in, there at our backs are lodgd,
The fatall Crosbowes, and the battaile there,
Is gouernd by the rough Chattillion,
Then thus it stands, the valleie for our flight,
The king binds in, the hils on either hand,
Are proudly royalized by his sonnes,
And on the Hill behind stands certaine death,
In pay and seruice with Chattillion.

Pr: Deathes name is much more mightie then 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,
Then all the world, and call it but a power:
Easely tane vp and quickly throwne away,
But if I stand to count them sand by sand
The number would confound my memorie,
And make a thousand millions of a taske,
Which briefelie is no more indeed then one,
These quarters, spuadrons, and these regements,
Before, behinde vs, and on either hand,
Are but a power, when we name a man,
His hand, his foote, his head hath seuerall strengthes,
And being al but one selfe instant strength,
Why all this many, Audely is but one,
And we can call it all but one mans strength:
He that hath farre to goe, tels it by miles,
If he should tell the steps, it kills his hart:
The drops are infinite that make a floud,
And yet thou knowest we call it but a Raine:
There is but one Fraunce, one king of Fraunce,
That Fraunce hath no more kings, and that same king
Hath but the puissant legion of one king?
And we haue one, then apprehend no ods,
For one to one, is faire equalitie.

Enter an Herald from king Iohn.

Pr: What tidings messenger, be playne and briefe.

He: The king of Fraunce my soueraigne Lord and master,
Greets by me his fo, the Prince of Wals,
If thou call forth a hundred men of name
Of Lords, Knights, Esquires and English gentlemen,
And with thy selfe and those kneele at his feete,
He straight will fold his bloody collours vp,
And ransome shall redeeme liues forfeited:
If not, this day shall drinke more English blood,
Then ere was buried in our Bryttish earth,
What is the answere to his profered mercy?

Pr, This heauen that couers Fraunce containes the mercy
That drawes from me submissiue orizons,
That such base breath should vanish from my lips
To vrge the plea of mercie to a man,
The Lord forbid, returne and tell the king,
My tongue is made of steele, and it shall beg
My mercie on his coward burgonet.
Tell him my colours are as red as his,
My men as bold, our English armes as strong,
returne him my defiance in his face.

He. I go.

Enter another.

Pr: What newes with thee?

He. I he Duke of Normandie my Lord & master
Pittying thy youth is so ingirt with perill,
By me hath sent a nimble ioynted iennet,
As swift as euer yet thou didst bestride,
And therewithall he counsels thee to flie,
Els death himself hath sworne that thou shalt die.

P: Back with the beast vnto the beast that sent him
Tell him I cannot sit a cowards horse,
Bid him to daie bestride the iade himselfe,
For I will staine my horse quite ore with bloud,
And double guild my spurs, but I will catch him,
So tell the capring boy, and get thee gone.

Enter another.

He: Edward of Wales, Phillip the second sonne
To the most mightie christian king of France,
Seeing thy bodies liuing date expird,
All full of charitie and christian loue,
Commends this booke full fraught with prayers,
To thy faire hand, and for thy houre of lyfe,
Intreats thee that thou meditate therein,
And arme thy soule for hir long iourney towards.
Thus haue I done his bidding, and returne.

Pr. Herald of Phillip greet thy Lord from me,
All good that he can send I can receiue,
But thinkst thou not the vnaduised boy,
Hath wrongd himselfe in this far tendering me,
Happily he cannot praie without the booke,
I thinke him no diuine extemporall,
Then render backe this common place of prayer,
To do himselfe good in aduersitie,
Besides, he knows not my sinnes qualitie,
and therefore knowes no praiers for my auaile,
Ere night his praier may be to praie to God,
To put it in my heart to heare his praier,
So tell the courtly wanton, and be gone.

He. I go.

Pr. How confident their strength and number makes them,
Now Audley sound those siluer winges of thine,
And let those milke white messengers of time,
Shew thy times learning in this dangerous time,
Thy selfe art busie, and bit with many broiles,
And stratagems sore past with yron pens,
Are texted in thine honorable face,
Thou art a married man in this distresse.
But danger wooes me as a blushing maide,
Teach me an answere to this perillous time.

Aud. To die is all as common as to liue,
The one in choice the other holds in chase,
For from the instant we begin to liue,
We do pursue and hunt the time to die,
First bud we, then we blow, and after seed,
Then presently we fall, and as a shade
Followes the bodie, so we sollow death,
If then we hunt for death, why do we feare it?
If we feare it, why do we follow it?
If we do teare, how can we shun it?
If we do feare, with feare we do but aide
The thing we feare, to seize on vs the sooner,
If wee feare not, then no resolued proffer,
Can ouerthrow the limit of our fate,
For whether ripe or rotten, drop we shall,
as we do drawe the lotterie of our doome.

Pri. Ah good olde man, a thousand thousand armors,
These wordes of thine haue buckled on my backe,
Ah what an idiot hast thou made of lyfe,
To seeke the thing it feares, and how disgrast,
The imperiall victorie of murdring death,
Since all the liues his conquering arrowes strike,
Seeke him, and he not them, to shame his glorie,
I will not giue a pennie for a lyfe,
Nor halfe a halfe penie to shun grim death,
Since for to liue is but to seeke to die,
And dying but beginning of new lyfe,
Let come the houre when he that rules it will,
Exeunt.To liue or die I hold indifferent.

Enter king Iohn and Charles.

Ioh: A sodaine darknes hath defast the skie,
The windes are crept into their caues for feare,
the leaues moue not, the world is husht and still,
the birdes cease singing, and the wandring brookes,
Murmure no wonted greeting to their shores,
Silence attends some wonder, and expecteth
That heauen should pronounce some prophesie,
Where or from whome proceeds this silence Charles?

Ch: Our men with open mouthes and staring eyes,
Looke on each other, as they did attend
Each others wordes, and yet no creature speakes,
A tongue-tied feare hath made a midnight houre,
and speeches sleepe through all the waking regions.

Ioh: But now the pompeous Sunne in all his pride,
Lookt through his golden coach vpon the worlde,
and on a sodaine hath he hid himselfe,
that now the vnder earth is as a graue,
A clamor of rauensDarke, deadly, silent, and vncomfortable.
Harke, what a deadly outcrie do I heare?

Ch. Here comes my brother Phillip.

Ioh. All dismaid. What fearefull words are those thy lookes presage?

Pr. A flight, a flight.

Ioh: Coward what flight? thou liest there needs no flight.

Pr. A flight.

Kin: Awake thy crauen powers, and tell on
the substance of that verie feare in deed,
Which is so gastly printed in thy face,
What is the matter?

Pr. A flight of vgly rauens
Do croke and houer ore our souldiers heads,
And keepe in triangles and cornerd squares,
Right as our forces are imbatteled,
With their approach there came this sodain fog,
Which now hath hid the airie flower of heauen,
And made at noone a night vnnaturall,
Vpon the quaking and dismaied world;
In briefe, our souldiers haue let fall their armes,
and stand like metamorphosd images,
Bloudlesse and pale, one gazing on another.

Io: I now I call to mind the prophesie,
But I must giue no enterance to a feare,
Returne and harten vp these yeelding soules,
Tell them the rauens seeing them in armes,
So many faire against a famisht few,
Come but to dine vpon their handie worke,
and praie vpon the carrion that they kill,
For when we see a horse laid downe to die,
although not dead, the rauenous birds
Sit watching the departure of his life,
Euen so these rauens for the carcases,
Of those poore English that are markt to die,
Houer about, and if they crie to vs,
Tis but for meate that we must kill for them,
Awaie and comfort vp my souldiers,
and sound the trumpets, and at once dispatch
Exit Pr. This litle busines of a silly fraude.

Another noise, Salisbury brought in by a
French Captaine.

Cap: Behold my liege, this knight and fortie mo,
Of whom the better part are slaine and sled,
With all indeuor sought to breake our rankes,
And make their waie to the incompast prince,
Dispose of him as please your maiestie.

Io: Go, & the next bough, souldier, that thou seest,
Disgrace it with his bodie presently,
Eor I doo hold a tree in France too good,
To be the gallowes of an English theefe.

Sa: My Lord of Normandie, I haue your passe,
And warrant for my safetie through this land.

Ch. Villiers procurd it for thee, did he not?

Sal: He did.

Ch: And it is currant, thou shalt freely passe.

En: Io: I freely to the gallows to be hangd,
Without deniall or impediment.
Awaie with him.

Vil. I hope your highnes will not so disgrace me,
and dash the vertue of my seale at armes,
He hath my neuer broken name to shew,
Carectred with this princely hande of mine,
and rather let me leaue to be a prince,
Than break the stable verdict of a prince,
I doo beseech you let him passe in quiet,

Ki: Thou and thy word lie both in my command,
What canst thou promise that I cannot breake?
Which of these twaine is greater infamie,
To disobey thy father or thy selfe?
Thy word nor no mans may exceed his power,
Nor that same man doth neuer breake his worde,
That keepes it to the vtmost of his power.
The breach of faith dwels in the soules consent,
Which if thy selfe without consent doo breake,
Thou art not charged with the breach of faith,
Go hang him, for thy lisence lies in mee,
and my constraint stands the excuse for thee.

Ch. What am I not a soldier in my word?
Then armes adieu, and let them fight that list,
Shall I not giue my girdle from my wast,
But with a gardion I shall be controld,
To saie I may not giue my things awaie,
Vpon my soule, had Edward prince of Wales
Ingagde his word, writ downe his noble hand,
For all your knights to passe his fathers land,
The roiall king to grace his warlike sonne,
Would not alone safe conduct giue to them.
But with all bountie seasted them and theirs.

Kin: Dwelst thou on presidents, then be it so,
Say Englishman of what degree thou art.

Sa: An Earle in England, though a prisoner here,
And those that knowe me call me Salisburie.

Kin: Then Salisburie, say whether thou art bound.

Sa. To Callice where my liege king Edward is.

Kin: To Callice Salisburie, then to Callice packe,
and bid the king prepare a noble graue,
To put his princely sonne blacke Edward in,
and as thou trauelst westward from this place,
Some two leagues hence there is a loftie hill,
Whose top seemes toplesse, for the imbracing skie,
Doth hide his high head in her a zure bosome,
Vpon whose tall top when thy foot attaines,
Looke backe vpon the humble vale beneath,
Humble of late, but now made proud with armes,
and thence behold the wretched prince of Wales,
Hoopt with a bond of yron round about,
After which sight to Callice spurre amaine,
and saie the prince was smoothered, and not slaine,
and tell the king this is not all his ill,
For I will greet him ere he thinkes I will,
Awaie be gone, the smoake but of our shot,
Exit.Will choake our foes, though bullets hit them not.

Allarum.Enter prince Edward and Artoys.

Art: How fares your grace, are you not shot my Lord?

Pri: No deare Artoys, but choakt with dust and smoake,
And stept aside for breath and fresher aire.

Art. Breath then, and too it againe, the amazed French
are quite distract with gazing on the crowes,
and were our quiuers full of shafts againe,
Your grace should see a glorious day of this,
O for more arrowes Lord, thats our want.

Pri. Courage Artoys, a fig for feathered shafts,
When feathered foules doo bandie on our side,
What need we fight, and sweate, and keepe a coile,
When railing crowes outscolde our aduersaries
Vp, vp Artoys, the ground it selfe is armd,
Fire containing flint, command our bowes
To hurle awaie their pretie colored Ew,
and to it with stones, awaie Artoys, awaie,
Exeunt.My soule doth prophesie we win the daie.

Allarum.Enter king Iohn.
Our multitudes are in themselues confounded,
Dismayed, and distraught, swift starting feare
Hath buzd a cold dismaie through all our armie,
and euerie pettie disaduantage promptes
The feare possessed abiect soule to flie,
My selfe whose spirit is steele to their dull lead,
What with recalling of the prophesie,
and that our natiue stones from English armes
Rebell against vs, finde my selfe attainted
With strong surprise of weake and yeelding feare.

Enter Charles.
Fly father flie, the French do kill the French,
Some that would stand, let driue at some that flie,
Our drums strike nothing but discouragement,
Our trumpets sound dishonor, and retire,
The spirit of feare that feareth nought but death,
Cowardly workes confusion on it selfe.

Enter Phillip.
Plucke out your eies, and see not this daies shame,
An arme hath beate an armie, one poore Dauid
Hath with a stone foild twentie stout Goliahs,
Some twentie naked staruelings with small flints,
Hath driuen backe a puisant host of men,
Araid and fenst in all accomplements,

Ioh: Mordiu they quait at vs, and kill vs vp,
No lesse than fortie thousand wicked elders,
Haue fortie leane slaues this daie stoned to death.

Ch: O that I were some other countryman,
This daie hath set derision on the French,
and all the world wilt blurt and scorne at vs.

Kin: What is there no hope left?

Pr: No hope but death to burie vp our shame,

Ki. Make vp once more with me the twentith part
Of those that liue, are men in ow to quaile,
The feeble handfull on the aduerse part.

Ch. Then charge againe, if heauen be not opposd
We cannot loose the daie.

ExeuntKin. On awaie.

Enter Audley wounded, & rescued by two squirs.

Esq. How fares my Lord;

Aud. Euen as a man may do
That dines at such a bloudie feast as this.

Esq. I hope my Lord that is no mortall scarre,

Aud. No matter if it be, the count is cast,
and in the worst ends but a mortall man,
Good friends conuey me to the princely Edward
That in the crimson brauerie of my bloud,
I may become him with saluting him,
Ile smile and tell him that this open scarre,
Ex.Doth end the haruest of his Audleys warre.

Enter prince Edward, king Iohn, Charles, and all
with Ensignes spred.
Retreat sounded.

Pri. Now Iohn in France, & lately Iohn of France,
Thy bloudie Ensignes are my captiue colours,
and you high vanting Charles of Normandie,
That once to daie sent me a horse to flie,
are now the subiects of my clemencie.
Fie Lords, is it not a shame that English boies,
Whose early daies are yet not worth a beard,
Should in the bosome of your kingdome thus,
One against twentie beate you vp together.

Kin. Thy fortune, not thy force hath conquerd vs.

Pri. an argument that heauen aides the right,
See, see, Artoys doth bring with him along,
the late good counsell giuer to my soule,
Welcome Artoys, and welcome Phillip to,
Who now of you or I haue need to praie,
Now is the prouerbe verefied in you,
Too bright a morning breeds a louring daie.
Sound Trumpets, enter Audley.
But say, what grym discoragement comes heere,
Alas what thousand armed men of Fraunce,
Haue writ that note of death in Audleys face:
Speake thou that wooest death with thy careles smile
and lookst so merrily vpon thy graue,
As if thou wert enamored on thyne end,
What hungry sword hath so bereaud thy face,
And lopt a true friend from my louing soule:

Au. O Prince thy sweet bemoning speech to me.
Is as a morneful knell to one dead sicke.

Pr: Deare Audley if my tongue ring out thy end:
My armes shalbe the graue, what may I do,
To win thy life, or to reuenge thy death,
If thou wilt drinke the blood of captyue kings,
Or that it were restoritiue, command
A Heath of kings blood, and Ile drinke to thee,
If honor may dispence for thee with death,
The neuer dying honor of this daie,
Share wholie Audley to thy selfe and liue.

Aud: Victorious Prince, that thou art so, behold
A Cæsars fame in kings captiuitie;
If I could hold dym death but at a bay,
Till I did see my liege thy loyall father,
My soule should yeeld this Castle of my flesh,
This mangled tribute with all willingnes;
To darkenes consummation, dust and Wormes.

Pr: Cheerely bold man, thy soule is all to proud,
To yeeld her Citie for one little breach,
Should be diuorced from her earthly spouse,
By the soft temper of a French mans sword:
Lo, to repaire thy life, I giue to thee,
Three thousand Marks a yeere in English land.

Au: I take thy gift to pay the debts I owe:
These two poore Esquires redeemd me from the French
With lusty & deer hazzard of their liues;
What thou hast giuen me I giue to them,
And as thou louest me Prince, lay thy consent.
To this bequeath in my last testament.

Pr: Renowned Audley, liue and haue from mee,
This gift twise doubled to these Esquires and thee
But liue or die, what thou hast giuen away,
To these and theirs shall lasting freedome stay,
Come gentlemen, I will see my friend bestowed,
With in an easie Litter, then wele martch,
Proudly toward Callis with tryumphant pace,
Vnto my royall father, and there bring,
Ex.The tribut of my wars, faire Fraunce his king.