Original text Act V, Scene I Enter King Edward, Queen Phillip, Derby, soldiers.
Ed.
No more Queene Phillip, pacifie your selfe,
Copland, except he can excuse his fault,
Shall finde displeasure written in our lookes,
And now vnto this proud resisting towne,
Souldiers assault, I will no longer stay,
To be deluded by their false delaies,
Put all to sword, and make the spoyle your owne.
Enter sixe Citizens in their Shirts, bare foote, with halters about their necks.
All.
Mercy king Edward, mercie gratious Lord.
Ki.
Gontemptuous villaines, call ye now for truce?
Mine eares are stopt against your bootelesse cryes,
Sound drums allarum, draw threatning swords?
All.
Ah noble Prince, take pittie on this towne,
And heare vs mightie king:
We claime the promise that your highnes made,
The two daies respit is not yet expirde,
And we are come with willingnes to beare,
What tortering death or punishment you please,
So that the trembling multitude be saued,
Ki.
My promise, wel I do confesse as much;
But I require the cheefest Citizens,
And men of most account that should submit,
You peraduenture are but seruile groomes,
Or some fellonious robbers on the Sea,
Whome apprehended law would execute,
Albeit seuerity lay dead in vs,
No no ye cannot ouerreach vs thus,
Two.
The Sun dread Lord that in the western fall,
Beholds vs now low brought through miserie,
Did in the Orient purple of the morne,
Salute our comming forth when we were knowne
Or may our portion be with damned fiends,
Ki.
If it be so, then let our couenant stand,
We take possession of the towne in peace,
But for your selues looke you for no remorse,
But as imperiall iustice hath decreed,
Your bodies shalbe dragd about these wals,
And after feele the stroake of quartering steele,
This is your dome, go souldiets see it done.
Qu.
Ah be more milde vnto these yeelding men,
It is a glorious thing to stablish peace,
And kings approch the nearest vnto God,
By giuing life and safety vnto men,
As thou intendest to be king of Fraunce,
So let her people liue to call thee king,
For what the sword cuts down or fire hath spoyld
Is held in reputation none of ours.
Ki.
Although experience teach vs, this is true,
That peacefull quietnes brings most delight,
When most of all abuses are controld,
Yet insomuch, it shalbe knowne that we,
Aswell can master our affections,
As conquer other by the dynt of sword,
Phillip preuaile, we yeeld to thy request,
These men shall liue to boast of clemencie,
And tyrannie strike terror to thy selfe.
Two.
long liue your highnes, happy be your reigne
Ki.
Go get you hence, returne vnto the towne,
And if this kindnes hath deserud your loue,
Learne then to reuerence Edw. as your king.
Ex.
Now might we heare of our affaires abroad,
We would till glomy Winter were ore spent,
Dispose our men in garrison a while,
But who comes heere?
Enter Copland and King Dauid.
De,
Copland my Lord, and Dauid King of Scots:
Ki.
Is this the proud presumtious Esquire of the North,
That would not yeeld his prisoner to my Queen,
Cop.
I am my liege a Northen Esquire indeed,
But neither proud nor insolent I trust.
Ki.
What moude thee then to be so obstinate,
To contradict our royall Queenes desire?
Co.
No wilfull disobedience mightie Lord,
But my desert and publike law at armes.
I tooke the king my selfe in single fight,
and like a souldier would be loath to loose
The least preheminence that I had won.
And Copland straight vpon your highnes charge,
Is come to Fraunce, and with a lowly minde,
Doth vale the bonnet of his victory:
Receiue dread Lorde the custome of my fraught,
The wealthie tribute of my laboring hands,
Which should long since haue been surrendred vp
Had but your gratious selfe bin there in place,
Q.
But Copland thou didst scorne the kings command
Neglecting our commission in his name.
Cop.
His name I reuerence, but his person more,
His name shall keepe me in alleagaunce still,
But to his person I will bend my knee.
King.
I praie thee Phillip let displeasure passe:
This man doth please mee, and I like his words,
For what is he that will attmpt great deeds,
and loose the glory that ensues the same,
all riuers haue recourse vnto the Sea,
and Coplands faith relation to his king,
Kneele therefore downe, now rise king Edwards knight,
and to maintayne thy state I freely giue,
Fiue hundred marks a yeere to thee and thine.
Enter Salsbury.
welcom lord Salisburie, what news from Brittaine
Sa.
This mightie king, the Country we haue won,
And Charles de Mounford regent of that place,
Presents your highnes with this Coronet,
Protesting true allegeaunce to your Grace.
Ki.
We thanke thee for thy seruice valient Earle
Challenge our fauour for we owe it thee:
Sa.
But now my Lord, as this is ioyful newes,
So must my voice be tragicall againe,
and I must sing of dolefull accidents,
Ki.
What haue our men the ouerthrow at Poitiers,
Or is our sonne beset with too much odds?
Sa.
He was my Lord, and as my worthltsse selfe,
With fortie other seruicable knights,
Vndersafe conduct of the Dolphins seale,
Did trauaile that way, finding him distrest,
A troupe of Launces met vs on the way,
Surprisd and brought vs prisoners to the king,
Who proud of this, and eager of reuenge,
Commanded straight to cut of all our heads,
And surely we had died but that the Duke,
More full of honor then his angry syre,
Procurd our quicke deliuerance from thence,
But ere we went, salute your king, quothe hee,
Bid him prouide a funerall for his sonne,
To day our sword shall cut his thred of life,
And sooner then he thinkes wele be with him:
To quittance those displeasures he hath done,
This said, we past, not daring to reply,
Our harts were dead, our lookes diffusd and wan,
Wandring at last we clymd vnto a hill,
From whence although our griefe were much before
Yet now to see the occasion with our eies,
Did thrice so much increase our heauines,
For there my Lord, oh there we did descry
Downe in a vallie how both armies laie:
The French had cast their trenches like a ring,
And euery Barricados open front,
Was thicke imbost with brasen ordynaunce.
Heere stood a battaile of ten tstousand horse,
There twise as many pikes in quadrant wise,
Here Crosbowes and deadly wounding darts,
And in the midst like to a slender poynt,
Within the compasse of the horison,
astwere a rising bubble in the sea,
A Hasle wand a midst a wood of Pynes,
Or as a beare fast chaind vnto a stake,
Stood famous Edward still expecting when
Those doggs of Fraunce would fasten on his flesh
Anon the death procuring knell begins,
Off goe the Cannons that with trembling noyse,
Did shake the very Mountayne where they stood,
Then sound the Trumpets clangor in the aire,
The battailes ioyne, and when we could no more,
Discerne the difference twixt the friend and fo,
So intricate the darke confusion was,
Away we turnd our watrie eies with sighs,
as blacke as pouder fuming into smoke,
And thus I feare, vnhappie haue I told,
The most vntimely tale of Edwards fall.
Qu.
Ah me, is this my welcome into Fraunce:
Is this the comfort that I lookt to haue,
When I should meete with my belooued sonne:
Sweete Ned, I would thy mother in the sea
Had been preuented of this mortall griefe.
Ki.
Content thee Phillip, tis not teares will serue,
To call him backe, if he be taken hence,
Comfort thy selfe as I do gentle Queene,
With hope of sharpe vnheard of dyre reuenge,
He bids me to prouide his funerall.
And so I will, but all the Peeres in Fraunce,
Shall mourners be, and weepe out bloody teares,
Vntill their emptie vaines be drie and sere
The pillers of his hearse shall be his bones,
The mould that couers him, their Citie ashes,
His knell the groning cryes of dying men,
And in the stead of tapers on his tombe,
an hundred fiftie towers shall burning blaze,
While we bewaile our valiant sonnes decease.
After a flourish sounded within, enter an herald.
He.
Reioyce my Lord, ascend the imperial throne
The mightie and redoubted prince of Wales,
Great seruitor to bloudie Mars in armes,
The French mans terror and his countries fame,
Triumphant rideth like a Romane peere,
and lowly at his stirop comes a foot
King Iohn of France, together with his sonne,
In captiue bonds, whose diadem he brings
To crowne thee with, and to proclaime thee king
Ki.
Away with mourning Phillip, wipe thine eies
Sound Trumpets, welcome in Plantaginet.
Enter Prince Edward, king Iohn, Phillip, Audley, Artoys.
As things long lost when they are found again,
So doth my sonne reioyce his fathers heart,
For whom euen now my soule was much perplext
Q.
Be this a token to expresse my ioy,
kisse him.
For inward passions will not let me speake.
Pr.
My gracious father, here receiue the gift,
This wreath of conquest, and reward of warre,
Got with as mickle perill of our liues,
as ere was thing of price before this daie,
Install your highnes in your proper right,
and heerewithall I render to your hands
These prisoners, chiefe occasion of our strife.
Kin.
So Iohn of France, I see you keepe your word
You promist to be sooner with our selfe
Then we did thinke for, and tis so in deed,
But had you done at first as now you do,
How many ciuill townes had stoode vntoucht,
That now are turnd to ragged heaps of stones?
How many peoples liues mightst thou haue saud,
that are vntimely sunke into their graues.
Io.
Edward, recount not things irreuocable,
Tell me what ransome thou requirest to haue?
Kin.
Thy ransome Iohn, hereafter shall be known
But first to England thou must crosse the seas,
To see what intertainment it affords,
How ere it fals, it cannot be so bad,
as ours hath bin since we ariude in France.
Ioh.
Accursed man, of this I was fortolde,
But did misconster what the prophet told.
Pri.
Now father this petition Edward makes,
To thee whose grace hath bin his strongest shield
That as thy pleasure chose me for the man,
To be the instrument to shew thy power,
So thou wilt grant that many princes more,
Bred and brought vp within that little Isle,
May still be famous for lyke victories:
and for my part, the bloudie scars I beare,
The wearie nights that I haue watcht in field,
The dangerous conflicts I haue often had,
The fearefull menaces were proffered me,
The heate and cold, and what else might displease
I wish were now redoubled twentie fold,
So that hereafter ages when they reade
The painfull traffike of my tender youth
Might thereby be inflamd with such resolue,
as not the territories of France alone,
But likewise Spain, Turkie, and what countries els
That iustly would prouoke faire Englands ire,
Might at their presence tremble and retire.
Kin.
Here English Lordes we do proclaime a rest
an intercession of our painfull armes,
Sheath vp your swords, refresh your weary lims,
Peruse your spoiles, and after we haue breathd
a daie or two within this hauen towne,
God willing then for England wele be shipt,
Where in a happie houre I trust we shall
Ariue three kings, two princes, and a queene.
| Modern text Enter King Edward, Queen Philippa, Derby, Soldiers
KING EDWARD
No more, Queen Philippe, 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.
Enter six Citizens in their shirts, barefoot, with halters about their necks
ALL CITIZENS
Mercy, King Edward, mercy, gracious lord!
KING EDWARD
Contemptuous villains, call ye now for truce?
Mine ears are stopped against your bootless cries.
Sound drums' alarum; draw threat'ning swords!
FIRST CITIZEN
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.
KING EDWARD
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, you cannot overreach us thus.
SECOND CITIZEN
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.
KING EDWARD
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 shall be dragged about these walls,
And after, feel the stroke of quartering steel.
This is your doom. Go, soldiers, see it done.
QUEEN
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.
KING EDWARD
Although experience teach us this is true,
That a peaceful quietness brings most delight,
When most of all abuses are controlled,
Yet, insomuch it shall be known that we
As well can master our affections
As conquer other by the dint of sword,
Philippe, prevail: we yield to thy request.
These men shall live to boast of clemency,
And, Tyranny, strike terror to thyself.
SECOND CITIZEN
Long live your highness! Happy be your reign!
KING EDWARD
Go, get you hence, return unto the town;
And if this kindness hath deserved your love,
Learn then to reverence Edward as your king.
Exeunt Citizens
Now might we hear of our affairs abroad.
We would, till gloomy winter were o'erspent,
Dispose our men in garrison a while. –
But who comes here?
Enter Copland and King David
DERBY
Copland, my lord, and David, King of Scots.
KING EDWARD
Is this the proud presumptuous esquire of the north
That would not yield his prisoner to my Queen?
COPLAND
I am, my liege, a northern squire indeed,
But neither proud nor insolent, I trust.
KING EDWARD
What moved thee, then, to be so obstinate
To contradict our royal Queen's desire?
COPLAND
No wilful disobedience, mighty lord,
But my desert and public law of 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 vail 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.
QUEEN
But, Copland, thou didst scorn the King's command,
Neglecting our commission in his name.
COPLAND
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 EDWARD
I pray thee, Philippe, 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 Copland's 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.
Enter Salisbury
Welcome, Lord Salisbury. What news from Brittaine?
SALISBURY
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.
KING EDWARD
We thank thee for thy service, valiant earl:
Challenge our favour, for we owe it thee.
SALISBURY
But now, my lord, as this is joyful news,
So must my voice be tragical again,
And I must sing of doleful accidents.
KING EDWARD
What, have our men the overthrow at Poitiers,
Or is our son beset with too much odds?
SALISBURY
He was, my lord; and as my worthless self
With forty other serviceable knights,
Under safe-conduct of the dauphin's seal,
Did travel 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 off all our heads;
And surely we had died, but that the duke,
More full of honour than 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 cross-bows 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 hazel wand amidst 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' clangour in the air;
The battles join, and, when we could no more
Discern the difference 'twixt the friend and foe,
So intricate the dark confusion was,
Away we turned our wat'ry 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.
QUEEN
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!
KING EDWARD
Content thee, Philippe; '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 their 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 son's decease.
After a flourish sounded within, enter a Herald
HERALD
Rejoice, my lord! Ascend the imperial throne!
The mighty and redoubted Prince of Wales,
Great servitor to bloody Mars in arms,
The Frenchman'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.
KING EDWARD
Away with mourning, Philippe, wipe thine eyes!
Sound, trumpets, welcome in Plantagenet!
Enter Prince Edward, King John, Philip, Audley, and Artois
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.
QUEEN
Be this a token to express my joy,
(Kisses him)
For inward passion will not let me speak.
PRINCE
My gracious father, here receive the gift,
This wreath of conquest and reward of war,
Got with as mickle peril of our lives
As e'er was thing of price before this day.
Install your highness in your proper right,
And herewithal I render to your hands
These prisoners, chief occasion of our strife.
KING EDWARD
So, John of France, I see you keep your word:
You promised to be sooner with ourself
Than we did think for, and 'tis so indeed.
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.
KING JOHN
Edward, recount not things irrevocable.
Tell me what ransom thou requir'st to have.
KING EDWARD
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.
KING JOHN
Accursed man! Of this I was foretold,
But did misconster what the prophet told.
PRINCE
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,
And 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 twentyfold,
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 EDWARD
Here, English lords, we do proclaim a rest,
An intercession of our painful arms.
Sheathe 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.
Exeunt
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