King Edward III

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Original text
Act I, Scene I
Enter King Edward, Derby, Prince Edward, Audely and Artoys.

King.
RObert of Artoys banisht though thou be,
From Fraunce thy natiue Country, yet with vs,
Thou shalt retayne as great a Seigniorie:
For we create thee Earle of Richmond heere,
And now goe forwards with our pedegree,
Who next succeeded Phillip of Bew,

Ar.
Three sonnes of his, which all successefully,
Did sit vpon theirfathers regall Throne:
Yet dyed and left no issue of their loynes:

King.
But was my mother sister vnto those:

Art.
Shee was my Lord, and onely Issabel,
Was all the daughters that this Phillip had,
Whome afterward your father tooke to wife:
And from the fragrant garden of her wombe,
Your gratious selfe the flower of Europes hope:
Deriued is inheritor to Fraunce.
But not the rancor of rebellious mindes:
When thus the lynage of Bew was out;
The French obscurd your mothers Priuiledge,
And though she were the next of blood, proclaymed
Iohn of the house of Valoys now their king:
The reason was, they say the Realme of Fraunce,
Repleat with Princes of great parentage,
Ought not admit a gouernor to rule,
Except he be discended ofthe male,
And thats the speciall ground of their contempt:
Wherewith they study to exclude your grace:
But they shall finde that forged ground of theirs,
To be but dusty heapes, of brittile sande.

Art.
Perhaps it will be thought a heynous thing,
That I a French man should discouer this,
But heauen I call to recorde of my vowes,
It is not hate nor any priuat wronge,
But loue vnto my country and the right,
Prouokes my tongue thus lauish in report.
You are the lyneal watch men of our peace,
And Iohn of Valoys, in directly climbes,
What then should subiects but imbrace their King,
Ah where in may our duety more be seene,
Then stryuing to rebate a tyrants pride,
And place the true shepheard of our comonwealth,

King.
This counsayle Artoyes like to fruictfull shewers,
Hath added growth vnto my dignitye,
And by the fiery vigor of thy words,
Hot courage is engendred in my brest,
Which heretofore was rakt in ignorance,
But nowe doth mount with golden winges offame,
And will approue faire Issabells discent,
Able to yoak their stubburne necks with steele,
That spurne against my souereignety in France.
sound a horne
A mestenger, Lord Awdley know from whence,
Enter a messenger Lorragne,

Aud.
The Duke of Lorrayne, hauing crost the seas,
In treates he may haue conference with your highnes.

King.
Admit him Lords, that we may heare the newes.
Say Duke of Lorrayne wherefore art thou come.

Lor.
The most renowned prince K. Iohn of France,
Doth greete thee Edward, and by me commandes,
That for so mnch as by his liberall gift,
The Guyen Dukedome is entayld to thee,
Thou do him lowly homage for the same.
And for that purpose here I somon thee,
Repaire to France within these forty daies,
That there according as the coustome is.
Thou mayst be sworne true liegeman to our King,
Or else thy title in that prouince dyes,
And hee him self will repossesse the place.

K. Ed.
See how occasion laughes me in the face,
No sooner minded to prepare for France,
But straight I am inuited, nay with threats,
Vppon a penaltie inioynd to come:
Twere but a childish part to say him nay,
Lorrayne returne this answere to thy Lord,
I meane to visit him as he requests,
But how? not seruilely disposd to bend,
But like a conquerer to make him bowe,
His lame vnpolisht shifts are come to light,
And trueth hath puld the visard from his face,
That sett a glasse vpon his arrogannce,
Dare he commaund a fealty in mee,
Tell him the Crowne that hee vsurpes, is myne,
And where he sets his foote he ought to knele,
Tis not a petty Dukedome that I claime,
But all the whole Dominions, of the Realme,
Which if with grudging he refuse to yeld,
Ile take away those borrowed plumes of his,
And send him naked to the wildernes.

Lor.
Then Edward here in spight of all thy Lords,
I doe pronounce defyaunce to thy face.

Pri.
Defiance French man we rebound it backe,
Euen to the bottom of thy masters throat,
And be it spoke with reuerence of the King,
My gratious father and these other Lordes,
I hold thy message but as scurrylous,
And him that sent thee like the lazy droane,
Crept vp by stelth vnto the Eagles nest,
From whence wele shake him with so rough a storme,
As others shalbe warned by his harme,

War.
Byd him leaue of the Lyons case he weares,
Least meeting with the Lyon in the feeld,
He chaunce to teare him peecemeale for his pride.

Art.
The soundest counsell I can giue his grace,
Is to surrender ere he be constraynd.
A voluntarie mischiefe hath lesse scorne,
Then when reproch with violence is borne,

Lor.
Regenerate Traytor, viper to the place,
Where thou was fostred in thine infancy:
Bearest thou a part in this conspiracy?
He drawes his Sword.

K. Ed.
Lorraine behold the sharpnes of this steele:
Feruent desire that sits against my heart,
Is farre more thornie pricking than this blade.
That with the nightingale I shall be scard:
As oft as I dispose my selfe to rest,
Vntill my collours be displaide in Fraunce:
This is thy finall Answere, so be gone.

Lor.
It is not that nor any English braue,
Afflicts me so, as doth his poysoned view,
That is most false, should most of all be true.



K. Ed.
Now Lord our fleeting Barke is vnder sayle:
Our gage is throwne, and warre is soone begun,
But not so quickely brought vnto an end.
Enter Mountague.
Moun. But wherefore comes Sir william Mountague?
How stands the league betweene the Scot and vs?

Mo.
Crackt and disseuered my renowned Lord:
The treacherous King no sooner was informde,
Of your with drawing of your army backe:
But straight forgetting of his former othe,
He made inuasion on the bordering Townes:
Barwicke is woon, Newcastle spoyld and lost,
And now the tyrant hath beguirt with seege,
The Castle of Rocksborough, where inclosd,
The Countes Salsbury is like to perish:

King.
That is thy daughter Warwicke is it not?
Whose husband hath in Brittayne serud so long,
About the planting of Lord Mouneford there?

War.
It is my Lord.

Ki.
Ignoble Dauid hast thou none to greeue,
But silly Ladies with thy threatning armes:
But I will make you shrinke your snailie hornes,
First therefore Audley this shalbe thy charge,
Go leuie footemen for our warres in Fraunce;
And Ned take muster of our men at armes,
In euery shire elect a seuerall band,
Let them be Souldiers of a lustie spirite,
Such as dread nothing but dishonors blot,
Be warie therefore since we do comence,
A famous Warre, and with so mighty a nation:
Derby be thou Embassador for vs,
Vnto our Father in Law the Earle of Henalt:
Make him acquainted with our enterprise,
And likewise will him with our owne allies,
That are in Flaundsrs, to solicite to,
The Emperour of Almaigne in our name:
Myselfe whilst you are ioyntly thus employd,
Will with these forces that I haue at hand,
March, and once more repulse the trayterous Scot:
But Sirs be resolute, we shal haue warres
On euery side, and Ned, thou must begin,
Now to forget thy study and thy bookes,
And vre thy shoulders to an Armors weight.

Pr.
As cheereful sounding to my youthfull spleene,
This tumult is of warres increasing broyles,
As at the Coronation of a king,
The ioyfull clamours of the people are,
When Aue Casar they pronounce alowd;
Within this schoole of honor I shal learne,
Either to sacrifice my foes to death,
Or in a rightfull quarrel spend my breath,
Then cheerefully forward ech a seuerall way,
In great affaires tis nought to vse delay.
Exunt / Manet Brutus and Cassius
Original text
Act I, Scene II
Enter the Countesse.
Alas how much in vaine my poore eyes gaze,
For souccour that my soueraigne should send;
A cosin Mountague, I feare thou wants,
The liuely spirirt sharpely to solicit,
Wth vehement sute the king in my behalfe:
Thou dost not tell him what a griefe it is,
To be the scornefull captiue to a Scot,
Either to be wooed with broad vntuned othes,
Or forst by rough insulting barbarisme:
Thou doest not tell him if he heere preuaile,
How much they will deride vs in the North,
And in their vild vnseuill skipping giggs,
Bray foorth their Conquest, and our ouerthrow,
Euen in the barraine, bleake and fruitlesse aire,
Enter Dauid and Douglas, Lorraine.
I must withdraw, the euerlasting foe,
Comes to the wall, Ile closely step aside,
And list their babble blunt and full of pride.

K. Da.
My Lord of Lorrayne, to our brother of Fraunce,
Commend vs as the man in Christendome,
That we must reuerence and intirely loue,
Touching your embassage, returne and say,
That we with England will not enter parlie,
Nor neuer make faire wether, or take truce,
But burne their neighbor townes and so persist,
With eager Rods beyond their Citie Yorke,
And neuer shall our bonny riders rest:
Nor rust in canker, haue the time to eate,
Their light borne snaffles, nor their nimble spurre
Nor lay aside their Iacks of Gymould mayle,
Nor hang their staues of grayned Scottish ash,
In peacefull wise, vpon their Citie wals,
Nor from their buttoned tawny leatherne belts,
Dismisse their byting whinyards, till your King,
Cry out enough, spare England now for pittie,
Farewell, and tell him that you leaue vs heare,
Before this Castle, say you came from vs,
Euen when we had that yeelded to our hands,

Lor.
take my leaue and fayrely will returne
Your acceptable greeting to my king.
Exit Lor.

K. D.
Now Duglas to our former taske again,
For the deuision of this certayne spoyle.

Dou.
My liege I craue the Ladie and no more,

King.
Nay soft ye sir, first I must make my choyse,
And first I do bespeake her for my selfe,

Da.
Why then my liege let me enioy her iewels,

King.
Those are her owne still liable to her,
And who inherits her, hath those with all.
Enter a Scot in hast.

Mes.
My liege, as we were pricking on the hils,
To fetch in booty, marching hitherward,
We might discry a mighty host of men,
The Sunne reflicting on the armour shewed,
A field of plate, a wood of pickes aduanced:
Bethinke your highnes speedely herein,
An easie march within foure howres will bring,
The hindmost rancke, vnto this place my liege.

King.
Dislodge, dislodge, it is the king of England.

Dug.
Iemmy my man, saddle my bonny blacke.

King.
Meanst thou to fight, Duglas we are to weake.

Du.
I know it well my liege, and therefore flie.

Cou.
My Lords of Scotland will ye stay and drinke:

King.
She mocks at vs Duglas, I cannot endure it.

Count.
Say good my Lord, which is he must haue the Ladie,
And which her iewels, I am sure my Lords
Ye will not hence, till you haue shard the spoyles.

King.
Shee heard the messenger, and heard our talke.
And now that comfort makes her scorne at vs.
Annother messenger.

Mes.
Arme my good Lord, O we are all surprisde.
After the French embassador my liege,
And tell him that you dare not ride to Yorke,
Excuse it that your bonnie horse is lame.

K.
He heard that to, intollerable griefe:
Woman farewell although I do not stay.
Exunt Scots.

Count.
Tis not for feare, and yet you run away,
O happie comfort welcome to our house,
The confident and boystrous boasting Scot,
That swore before my walls they would not backe,
For all the armed power of this land,
With facelesse feare that euer turnes his backe:
Turnd hence againe the blasting North-east winde:
Vpon the bare report and name of Armes.
Enter Mountague.
O Sommers day, see where my Cosin comes:

Mo.
How fares my Aunt? we are not Scots,
Why do you shut your gates against your friends?

Co.
Well may I giue a welcome Cosin to thee:
For thou comst well to chase my foes from hence.

Mo.
The king himselfe is come in person hither:
Deare Aunt discend and gratulate his highnes.

Co.
How may I entertayne his Maiestie,
To shew my duety, and his dignitie.
Enter king Edward, Warwike, Artoyes, with others.

K. Ed.
What are the stealing Foxes fled and gone
Before we could vncupple at their heeles.

War.
They are my liege, but with a cheereful cry,
Hot hunds and hardie chase them at the heeles.
Enter Countesse.

K. Ed.
This is the Countesse Warwike, is it not.

War.
Euen shee liege, whose beauty tyrants feare,
As a May blossome with pernitious winds,
Hath sullied, withered ouercast and donne.

K. Ed.
Hath she been fairer Warwike then she is?

War.
My gratious King, faire is she not at all,
If that her selfe were by to staine herselfe,
As I haue seene her when she was her selfe.

K. Ed.
What strange enchantment lurke in those her eyes?
When they exceld this excellence they haue,
That now her dym declyne hath power to draw,
My subiect eyes from persing maiestie,
To gaze on her with doting admiration.

Count.
In duetie lower then the ground I kneele,
And for my dul knees bow my feeling heart,
To witnes my obedience to your highnes,
With many millions of a subiects thanks.
For this your Royall presence, whose approch,
Hath driuen war and danger from my gate.

K.
Lady stand vp, I come to bring thee peace,
How euer thereby I haue purchast war.

Co.
No war to you my liege, the Scots are gone,
And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate,
Least yeelding heere, I pyne in shamefull loue:
Come wele persue the Scots, Artoyes away.

Co.
A little while my gratious soueraigne stay,
And let the power of a mighty king
Honor our roofe: my husband in the warres,
When he shall heare it will triumph for ioy.
Then deare my liege, now niggard not thy state,
Being at the wall, enter our homely gate.

King.
Pardon me countesse, I will come no neare,
I dreamde to night of treason and I feare.

Co.
Far from this place let vgly treason ly.

K.
No farther off, then her conspyring eye,
Which shoots infected poyson in my heart.
Beyond repulse ofwit or cure of Art.
Now in the Sunne alone it doth not lye,
With light to take light, from a mortall eye.
For here to day stars that myne eies would see,
More then the Sunne steales myne owne light from mee:
Contemplatiue desire, desire to be,
Incontemplation that may master thee.
Warwike, Artoys, to horse and lets away.

Co.
What might I speake to make my soueraigne stay?

King.
What needs a tongue to such a speaking eie,
That more perswads then winning Oratorie.

Co.
Let not thy presence like the Aprill sunne,
Flatter our earth, and sodenly be done:
More happie do not make our outward wall,
Then thou wilt grace our inner house withall,
Our house my liege is like a Country swaine,
Whose habit rude, and manners blunt and playne,
Presageth nought, yet inly beautified,
With bounties riches; and faire hidden pride:
For where the golden Ore doth buried lie,
The ground vndect with natures tapestrie,
Seemes barrayne, sere, vnfertill, fructles dry,
And where the vpper turfe of earth doth boast,
His pride perfumes, and party colloured cost,
Delue there, and find this issue and their pride,
To spring from ordure, and corruptions side:
But to make vp my all to long compare,
These ragged walles no testomie are,
What is within, but like a cloake doth hide,
From weathers West, the vnder garnisht pride:
More gratious then my tearmes can let thee be,
Intreat thy selfe to stay a while with mee.

Kin.

As wise as faire, what fond fit can be heard,
When wisedome keepes the gate as beuties gard,
Countesse, albeit my busines vrgeth me,
Yt shall attend, while I attend on thee:
Come on my Lords, heere will I host to night.
Exeunt.
Modern text
Act I, Scene I
Flourish. Enter King Edward, Derby, Prince Edward, Audley, Warwick, and Artois

KING EDWARD
Robert of Artois, banished though thou be
From France thy native country, yet with us
Thou shalt retain as great a seigniory,
For we create thee Earl of Richmond here.
And now go forward with our pedigree:
Who next succeeded Phillip le Beau?

ARTOIS
Three sons of his, which all successively
Did sit upon their father's regal throne,
Yet died and left no issue of their loins.

KING EDWARD
But was my mother sister unto those?

ARTOIS
She was, my lord, and only Isabel
Was all the daughters that this Phillip had,
Whom afterward your father took to wife;
And from the fragrant garden of her womb
Your gracious self, the flower of Europe's hope,
Derived is inheritor to France.
But note the rancour of rebellious minds:
When thus the lineage of le Beau was out,
The French obscured your mother's privilege,
And, though she were the next of blood, proclaimed
John of the house of Valois now their king.
The reason was, they say, the realm of France,
Replete with princes of great parentage,
Ought not admit a governor to rule
Except he be descended of the male;
And that's the special ground of their contempt
Wherewith they study to exclude your grace.

KING EDWARD
But they shall find that forged ground of theirs
To be but dusty heaps of brittle sand.

ARTOIS
Perhaps it will be thought a heinous thing
That I, a Frenchman, should discover this;
But heaven I call to record of my vows:
It is not hate nor any private wrong,
But love unto my country and the right
Provokes my tongue, thus lavish in report.
You are the lineal watchman of our peace,
And John of Valois indirectly climbs.
What then should subjects but embrace their king?
Ah, wherein may our duty more be seen
Than striving to rebate a tyrant's pride
And place the true shepherd of our commonwealth?

KING EDWARD
This counsel, Artois, like to fruitful showers,
Hath added growth unto my dignity;
And, by the fiery vigour of thy words,
Hot courage is engendered in my breast,
Which heretofore was racked 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 Lorraine, 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 Lorraine, attended
Say, Duke of Lorraine, wherefore art thou come?

LORRAINE
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 himself 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. –
Lorraine, 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.

LORRAINE
Then, Edward, here, in spite of all thy lords,
I do pronounce defiance to thy face.

PRINCE
Defiance, Frenchman? 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 off the lion's case he wears,
Lest, meeting with the lion 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.

LORRAINE
Regenerate traitor, viper to the place
Where thou wast fostered in thine infancy!
Bear'st thou a part in this conspiracy?
He draws his sword

KING EDWARD
(drawing his sword) Lorraine, behold the sharpness of this steel.
Fervent desire that sits against my heart
Is far more thorny-pricking than this blade;
That, with the nightingale, I shall be scarred
As oft as I dispose myself to rest
Until my colours be displayed in France.
This is my final answer; so be gone.

LORRAINE
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.
Exit

KING EDWARD
Now, Lords, our fleeting bark is under sail;
Our gage is thrown, and war is soon begun,
But not so quickly brought unto an end.
Enter Montague
But wherefore comes Sir William Montague?
How stands the league between the Scot and us?

MONTAGUE
Cracked and dissevered, my renowned lord.
The treacherous King no sooner was informed
Of your withdrawing of your army back,
But straight, forgetting of his former oath,
He made invasion of the bordering towns.
Berwick is won, Newcastle spoiled and lost,
And now the tyrant hath begirt with siege
The castle of Roxborough, where enclosed
The Countess Salisbury is like to perish.

KING EDWARD
That is thy daughter, Warwick, is it not.
Whose husband hath in Brittayne 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 threat'ning 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 spirit,
Such as dread nothing but dishonour'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 Hainault:
Make him acquainted with our enterprise,
And likewise will him, with our own allies
That are in Flanders, to solicit too
The Emperor of Almaigne in our name.
Myself, 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 armour's weight.

PRINCE
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 honour 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 naught to use delay.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act I, Scene II
Enter the Countess of Salisbury, above

COUNTESS
Alas, how much in vain my poor eyes gaze
For succour that my sovereign should send!
Ah, cousin Montague, I fear thou want'st
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 to 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 vile uncivil skipping jigs,
Bray forth their conquest and our overthrow,
Even in the barren, bleak, and fruitless air.
Enter below, King David, Douglas, and Lorraine
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 Lorraine, 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 neighbour 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 gimmaled mail,
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.

LORRAINE
I take my leave, and fairly will return
Your acceptable greeting to my king.
Exit

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 myself.

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 withal.
Enter a Messenger in haste

MESSENGER
My liege, as we were pricking on the hills
To fetch in booty, marching hitherward
We might descry a mighty host of men.
The sun reflecting on the armour showed
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
Mean'st 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.
Enter 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, and yet you run away. –
O happy comfort, welcome to our house!
The confident and boist'rous boasting Scot,
That swore before my walls they would not back
For all the armed power of this land,
With faceless fear that ever turns his back,
Turned hence again the blasting north-east wind
Upon the bare report and name of arms.
Enter Montague
O summer's day! See where my cousin comes!

MONTAGUE
How fares my aunt? We are not Scots.
Why do you shut your gates against your friends?

COUNTESS
Well may I give a welcome, cousin, to thee,
For thou com'st well to chase my foes from hence.

MONTAGUE
The king himself is come in person hither.
Dear aunt, descend, and gratulate his highness.

COUNTESS
How may I entertain his majesty,
To show my duty and his dignity?
Exit above
Enter King Edward, Warwick, Artois, with others

KING EDWARD
What, are the stealing foxes fled and gone
Before we could uncouple at their heels?

WARWICK
They are, my liege; but, with a cheerful cry,
Hot hounds and hardy chase them at the heels.
Enter Countess

KING EDWARD
This is the Countess, Warwick, is it not?

WARWICK
Even she, my liege; whose beauty tyrants fear,
As a May blossom with pernicious winds
Hath sullied, withered, overcast, and done.

KING EDWARD
Hath she been fairer, Warwick, than she is?

WARWICK
My gracious King, fair is she not at all,
If that her self were by to stain herself,
As I have seen her when she was herself.

KING EDWARD
What strange enchantment lurked in those her eyes
When they excelled this excellence they have,
That now her dim decline hath power to draw
My subject eyes from piercing majesty
To gaze on her with doting admiration?

COUNTESS
In duty lower than the ground I kneel,
And for my dull knees bow my feeling heart
To witness my obedience to your highness
With many millions of a subject's thanks
For this your royal presence, whose approach
Hath driven war and danger from my gate.

KING EDWARD
Lady, stand up; I come to bring thee peace,
However thereby I have purchased war.

COUNTESS
No war to you, my liege; the Scots are gone,
And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate.

KING EDWARD
Lest, yielding here, I pine in shameful love,
Come, we'll pursue the Scots. – Artois, away!

COUNTESS
A little while, my gracious sovereign, stay,
And let the power of a mighty king
Honour our roof; my husband in the wars,
When he shall hear it, will triumph for joy.
Then, dear my liege, now niggard not thy state.
Being at the wall, enter our homely gate.

KING EDWARD
Pardon me, Countess, I will come no near'r;
I dreamed tonight of treason, and I fear.

COUNTESS
Far from this place let ugly treason lie!

KING EDWARD
(aside)
No farther off than her conspiring eye,
Which shoots infected poison in my heart,
Beyond repulse of wit or cure of art.
Now in the sun alone it doth not lie
With light to take light from a mortal eye;
For here two day-stars that mine eyes would see
More than the sun steals mine own light from me.
Contemplative desire, desire to be
In contemplation, that may master thee. –
Warwick, Artois, to horse and let's away!

COUNTESS
What might I speak to make my sovereign stay?

KING EDWARD
(aside)
What needs a tongue to such a speaking eye,
That more persuades than winning oratory?

COUNTESS
Let not thy presence, like the April sun,
Flatter our earth and suddenly be done.
More happy do not make our outward wall
Than thou wilt grace our inner house withal.
Our house, my liege, is like a country swain,
Whose habit rude and manners blunt and plain
Presageth nought, yet inly beautified
With bounty's riches and fair hidden pride.
For where the golden ore doth buried lie,
The ground, undecked with nature's tapestry,
Seems barren, sere, unfertile, fruitless, dry;
And where the upper turf of earth doth boast
His pride, perfumes, and parti-coloured cost,
Delve there, and find this issue and their pride
To spring from ordure and corruption's side.
But, to make up my all too long compare,
These ragged walls no testimony are
What is within, but like a cloak doth hide
From weather's waste the undergarnished pride.
More gracious than my terms can, let thee be.
Entreat thy self to stay a while with me.

KING EDWARD
(aside)
As wise as fair: what fond fit can be heard
When wisdom keeps the gate as beauty's guard? –
Countess, albeit my business urgeth me,
It shall attend, while I attend on thee. –
Come on, my lords, here will I host tonight.
Exeunt
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL