Edward III
Act III, Scene 5
Picardy. The fields near Cressy.
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Enter King Edward and Audley.
Edward III
1 - 3
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Lord Audley, whiles our son is in the chase,
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With draw our powers unto this little hill,
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And here a season let us breath ourselves.
Audley
4
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I will, my lord.
Edward III
5 - 9
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Just dooming heaven, whose secret providence
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To our gross judgement is inscrutable,
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How are we bound to praise thy wondrous works,
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That hast this day given way unto the right,
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And made the wicked stumble at themselves!
Robert of Artois
10
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Rescue, king Edward! Rescue for thy son!
Edward III
11 - 12
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Rescue, Artois? What, is he prisoner,
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Or by violence fell beside his horse?
Robert of Artois
13 - 16
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Neither, my lord: but narrowly beset
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With turning Frenchmen, whom he did pursue,
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As ’tis impossible that he should scape,
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Except your highness presently descend.
Edward III
17 - 18
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Tut, let him fight; we gave him arms today,
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And he is laboring for a knighthood, man.
Earl of Derby
19 - 20
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The Prince, my lord, the Prince! Oh, succor him!
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He’s close incompast with a world of odds!
Edward III
21 - 32
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Then will he win a world of honor too,
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If he by valor can redeem him thence;
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If not, what remedy? We have more sons
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Than one, to comfort our declining age.
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Enter Audley.
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Renowned Edward, give me leave, I pray,
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To lead my soldiers where I may relieve
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Your Grace’s son, in danger to be slain.
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The snares of French, like emmets on a bank,
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Muster about him; whilest he, lion-like,
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Intangled in the net of their assaults,
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Franticly wrends, and bites the woven toil;
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But all in vain, he cannot free himself.
Edward III
33 - 38
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Audley, content; I will not have a man,
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On pain of death, sent forth to succor him:
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This is the day, ordained by destiny,
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To season his courage with those grievous thoughts,
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That, if he breaketh out, Nestor’s years on earth
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Will make him savor still of this exploit.
Earl of Derby
39
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Ah, but he shall not live to see those days.
Edward III
40
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Why, then his epitaph is lasting praise.
Audley
41 - 42
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Yet, good my lord, ’tis too much willfulness,
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To let his blood be spilt, that may be saved.
Edward III
43 - 53
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Exclaim no more; for none of you can tell
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Whether a borrowed aid will serve, or no;
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Perhaps he is already slain or ta’en.
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And dare a falcon when she’s in her flight,
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And ever after she’ll be haggard like:
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Let Edward be delivered by our hands,
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And still, in danger, he’ll expect the like;
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But if himself himself redeem from thence,
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He will have vanquished cheerful death and fear,
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And ever after dread their force no more
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Than if they were but babes or captive slaves.
Audley
54
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O cruel Father! Farewell, Edward, then!
Earl of Derby
55
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Farewell, sweet Prince, the hope of chivalry!
Robert of Artois
56
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O, would my life might ransom him from death!
Edward III
57 - 60
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But soft, me thinks I hear
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The dismal charge of trumpets’ loud retreat.
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All are not slain, I hope, that went with him;
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Some will return with tidings, good or bad.
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Enter Prince Edward in triumph, bearing in his hands his
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chivered lance, and the King of Bohemia, borne before,
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wrapped in the colors. They run and embrace him.
Audley
61
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O joyful sight! Victorious Edward lives!
Earl of Derby
62
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Welcome, brave Prince!
Edward III
63
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Welcome, Plantagenet!
Prince Edward
64 - 88
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Kneels and kisses his father’s hand.
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First having done my duty as beseemed,
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Lords, I regreet you all with hearty thanks.
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And now, behold, after my winter’s toil,
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My painful voyage on the boisterous sea
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Of wars devouring gulfs and steely rocks,
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I bring my fraught unto the wished port,
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My summer’s hope, my travels’ sweet reward:
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And here, with humble duty, I present
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This sacrifice, this first fruit of my sword,
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Cropped and cut down even at the gate of death,
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The king of Boheme, father, whom I slew;
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Whose thousands had entrenched me round about,
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And lay as thick upon my battered crest,
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As on an anvil, with their ponderous glaves:
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Yet marble courage still did underprop
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And when my weary arms, with often blows,
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Like the continual laboring wood-man’s Axe
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That is enjoined to fell a load of oaks,
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Began to faulter, straight I would record
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My gifts you gave me, and my zealous vow,
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And then new courage made me fresh again,
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That, in despite, I carved my passage forth,
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And put the multitude to speedy flight.
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Lo, thus hath Edward’s hand filled your request,
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And done, I hope, the duty of a knight.
Edward III
89 - 94
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Aye, well thou hast deserved a knighthood, Ned!
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And, therefore, with thy sword, yet reaking warm
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His sword borne by a soldier.
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With blood of those that fought to be thy bane.
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Arise, Prince Edward, trusty knight at arms:
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This day thou hast confounded me with joy,
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And proud thyself fit heir unto a king.
Prince Edward
95 - 99
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Here is a note, my gracious lord, of those
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That in this conflict of our foes were slain:
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Eleven princes of esteem, four score barons,
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A hundred and twenty knights, and thirty thousand
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Common soldiers; and, of our men, a thousand.
Edward III
100 - 103
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Our God be praised! Now, John of France, I hope,
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Thou knowest King Edward for no wantoness,
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No love sick cockney, nor his soldiers jades.
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But which way is the fearful king escaped?
Prince Edward
104
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Towards Poitiers, noble father, and his sons.
Edward III
105 - 110
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Ned, thou and Audley shall pursue them still;
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Myself and Derby will to Calice straight,
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And there be begirt that haven town with siege.
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Now lies it on an upshot; therefore strike,
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And wistly follow, whiles the game’s on foot.
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What picture’s this?
Prince Edward
111 - 115
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A pelican, my lord,
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Wounding her bosom with her crooked beak,
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That so her nest of young ones may be fed
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With drops of blood that issue from her heart;
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The motto, Sic et vos: “And so should you”.