King Edward the Third | Page 5

spirit, Such as dread nothing but dishonor's blot; Be wary, therefore, since we do commence A famous War, and with so mighty a nation. Derby, be thou Ambassador for us Unto our Father in Law, the Earl of Henalt: Make him acquainted with our enterprise, And likewise will him, with our own allies That are in Flanders, to solicit to The Emperour of Almaigne in our name. My self, whilst you are jointly thus employed, Will, with these forces that I have at hand, March, and once more repulse the traitorous Scot. But, Sirs, be resolute: we shall have wars On every side; and, Ned, thou must begin Now to forget thy study and thy books, And ure thy shoulders to an Armor's weight.
PRINCE EDWARD. As cheerful sounding to my youthful spleen This tumult is of war's increasing broils, As, at the Coronation of a king, The joyful clamours of the people are, When Ave, Caesar! they pronounce aloud. Within this school of honor I shall learn Either to sacrifice my foes to death, Or in a rightful quarrel spend my breath. Then cheerfully forward, each a several way; In great affairs tis nought to use delay.
[Exeunt.]
ACT I. SCENE II. Roxborough. Before the Castle.
[Enter the Countess.]
COUNTESS. Alas, how much in vain my poor eyes gaze For succour that my sovereign should send! Ah, cousin Mountague, I fear thou wants The lively spirit, sharply to solicit With vehement suit the king in my behalf: Thou dost not tell him, what a grief it is To be the scornful captive of a Scot, Either to be wooed with broad untuned oaths, Or forced by rough insulting barbarism; Thou doest not tell him, if he here prevail, How much they will deride us in the North, And, in their wild, uncivil, skipping gigs, Bray forth their Conquest and our overthrow Even in the barren, bleak, and fruitless air.
[Enter David and Douglas, Lorrain.]
I must withdraw, the everlasting foe Comes to the wall; I'll closely step aside, And list their babble, blunt and full of pride.
KING DAVID. My Lord of Lorrain, to our brother of France Commend us, as the man in Christendom That we most reverence and entirely love. Touching your embassage, return and say, That we with England will not enter parley, Nor never make fair weather, or take truce; But burn their neighbor towns, and so persist With eager Rods beyond their City York. And never shall our bonny riders rest, Nor rusting canker have the time to eat Their light borne snaffles nor their nimble spurs, Nor lay aside their Jacks of Gymould mayle, Nor hang their staves of grained Scottish ash In peaceful wise upon their City walls, Nor from their buttoned tawny leathern belts Dismiss their biting whinyards, till your King Cry out: Enough, spare England now for pity! Farewell, and tell him that you leave us here Before this Castle; say, you came from us, Even when we had that yielded to our hands.
LORRAIN. I take my leave, and fairly will return Your acceptable greeting to my king.
[Exit Lorrain.]
KING DAVID. Now, Douglas, to our former task again, For the division of this certain spoil.
DOUGLAS. My liege, I crave the Lady, and no more.
KING DAVID. Nay, soft ye, sir; first I must make my choice, And first I do bespeak her for my self.
DOUGLAS. Why then, my liege, let me enjoy her jewels.
KING DAVID. Those are her own, still liable to her, And who inherits her, hath those with all.
[Enter a Scot in haste.]
MESSENGER. My liege, as we were pricking on the hills, To fetch in booty, marching hitherward, We might descry a might host of men; The Sun, reflecting on the armour, shewed A field of plate, a wood of picks advanced. Bethink your highness speedily herein: An easy march within four hours will bring The hindmost rank unto this place, my liege.
KING DAVID. Dislodge, dislodge! it is the king of England.
DOUGLAS. Jemmy, my man, saddle my bonny black.
KING DAVID. Meanst thou to fight, Douglas? we are too weak.
DOUGLAS. I know it well, my liege, and therefore fly.
COUNTESS. My Lords of Scotland, will ye stay and drink?
KING DAVID. She mocks at us, Douglas; I cannot endure it.
COUNTESS. Say, good my Lord, which is he must have the Lady, And which her jewels? I am sure, my Lords, Ye will not hence, till you have shared the spoils.
KING DAVID. She heard the messenger, and heard our talk; And now that comfort makes her scorn at us.
[Another messenger.]
MESSENGER. Arm, my good Lord! O, we are all surprised!
COUNTESS. After the French ambassador, my liege, And tell him, that you dare not ride to York; Excuse it that your bonny horse is lame.
KING DAVID. She heard that too; intolerable grief! Woman, farewell! Although I do not stay...
[Exeunt Scots.]
COUNTESS. Tis not for fear,