Hath added growth unto my dignity; And, by the fiery vigor 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 Audley, know from whence.
[Exit Audley, and returns.]
AUDLEY. The Duke of Lorrain, having crossed the seas, Entreats he may have conference with your highness.
KING EDWARD. Admit him, Lords, that we may hear the news.
[Exeunt Lords. King takes his State. Re-enter Lords; with Lorrain, attended.]
Say, Duke of Lorrain, wherefore art thou come?
LORRAIN. The most renowned prince, King 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 him self will repossess the place.
KING EDWARD. 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.-- Lorrain, 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 vizard from his face, That set a gloss 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.
LORRAIN. Then, Edward, here, in spite of all thy Lords, I do pronounce defiance to thy face.
PRINCE EDWARD. 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 shall be warned by his harm.
WARWICK. Bid him leave of the Lyons case he wears, Least, meeting with the Lyon in the field, He chance to tear him piecemeal for his pride.
ARTOIS. The soundest counsel I can give his grace, Is to surrender ere he be constrained. A voluntary mischief hath less scorn, Than when reproach with violence is borne.
LORRAIN. Degenerate Traitor, viper to the place Where thou was fostered in thine infancy, Bearest thou a part in this conspiracy?
[He draws his sword.]
KING EDWARD. Lorrain, behold the sharpness of this steel:
[Drawing his.]
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 my self to rest, Until my colours be displayed in France: This is my final Answer; so be gone.
LORRAIN. 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.
[Exeunt Lorrain, and Train.]
KING EDWARD. Now, Lord, our fleeting Bark is under sail; Our gage is thrown, and war is soon begun, But not so quickly brought unto an end.
[Enter Mountague.]
But wherefore comes Sir William Mountague? How stands the league between the Scot and us?
MOUNTAGUE. 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: Barwick is won, Newcastle spoiled and lost, And now the tyrant hath begirt with siege The Castle of Rocksborough, where inclosed The Countess Salisbury is like to perish.
KING EDWARD. That is thy daughter, Warwick, is it not? Whose husband hath in Brittain served so long About the planting of Lord Mountford there?
WARWICK. It is, my Lord.
KING EDWARD. 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 shall be 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
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