Until their lofty tops were seen no more.

All shifts were tried, both for defence and hurt.

And now the effect of valour and of fear,

Of resolution and of cowardice,

We lively pictured—how the one for fame,

The other by compulsion, laid about.

Much did the Nonpareil, that brave ship;

So did the Black Snake of Boulogne, than which

A bonnier vessel never yet spread sail.

But all in vain: both sun, the wind and tide

Revolted all unto our foemen’s side,

That we, perforce, were fain to give them way,

And they are landed. Thus my tale is done.

We have untimely lost, and they have won.

KING OF FRANCE

Then rests there nothing but, with present speed,

To join our several forces all in one,

And bid them battle ere they range too far.

Come, gentle Philippe, let us hence depart;

This soldier’s words have pierced thy father’s heart.

Exeunt

Sc. 5 Enter at one door two Frenchmen without baggage. Enter at another door, meeting them, other Frenchmen and a Frenchwoman with two little children, ⌈all⌉ with baggage

FRENCHMAN WITHOUT BAGGAGE

Well met, my masters. How now? What’s the news,

And wherefore are ye laden thus with stuff?

What, is it quarter-day, that you remove,

And carry bag and baggage too?

FIRST FRENCHMAN WITH BAGGAGE

Quarter-day, ay, and quartering day I fear.

Have ye not heard the news that flies abroad?

FRENCHMAN WITHOUT BAGGAGE What news?

SECOND FRENCHMAN WITH BAGGAGE

How the French navy is destroyed at sea,

And that the English army is arrived.

FRENCHMAN WITHOUT BAGGAGE What then?

FIRST FRENCHMAN WITH BAGGAGE

‘What then,’ quoth you? Why, is’t not time to fly,

When envy and destruction is so nigh?

FRENCHMAN WITHOUT BAGGAGE

Content thee, man, they are far enough from hence,

And will be met, I warrant ye, to their cost,

Before they break so far into the realm.

FIRST FRENCHMAN WITH BAGGAGE

Ay, so the grasshopper doth spend the time

In mirthful jollity, till winter come,

And then, too late, he would redeem his time,

When frozen cold hath nipped his careless head.

He that no sooner will provide a cloak

Than when he sees it doth begin to rain

May, peradventure, for his negligence,

Be throughly washed when he suspects it not.

We that have charge, and such a train as this,

Must look in time to look for them and us,

Lest, when we would, we cannot be relieved.

FRENCHMAN WITHOUT BAGGAGE

Belike you then despair of ill success,

And think your country will be subjugate.

SECOND FRENCHMAN WITH BAGGAGE

We cannot tell. ’Tis good to fear the worst.

FRENCHMAN WITHOUT BAGGAGE

Yet rather fight, than like unnatural sons

Forsake your loving parents in distress.

FIRST FRENCHMAN WITH BAGGAGE

Tush, they that have already taken arms

Are many fearful millions in respect

Of that small handful of our enemies.

But ’tis a rightful quarrel must prevail:

Edward is son unto our late king’s sister,

Where Jean Valois is three degrees removed.

FRENCHWOMAN

Besides, there goes a prophecy abroad,

Published by one that was a friar once,

Whose oracles have many times proved true,

And now he says the time will shortly come

Whenas a lion roused in the west

Shall carry hence the fleur-de-lis of France.

These, I can tell ye, and such like surmises,

Strike many Frenchmen cold unto the heart.

Enter a Frenchman in haste

FLEEING FRENCHMAN

Fly, countrymen and citizens of France!

Sweet-flow’ring peace, the root of happy life,

Is quite abandoned and expulsed the land.

Instead of whom, ransack-constraining war

Sits like to ravens upon your houses’ tops.

Slaughter and mischief walk within your streets

And, unrestrained, make havoc as they pass,

The form whereof, even now, myself beheld

Upon this fair mountain, whence I came.

For so far off as I directed mine eyes

I might perceive five cities all on fire,

Cornfields and vineyards burning like an oven,

And, as the reeking vapour in the wind

Y-turnèd but aside, I likewise might discern

The poor inhabitants, escaped the flame,

Fall numberless upon the soldiers’ pikes.

Three ways these dreadful ministers of wrath

Do tread the measures of their tragic march:

Upon the right hand comes the conquering King,

Upon the left his hot, unbridled son,

And in the midst their nation’s glittering host.

All which, though distant, yet conspire in one

To leave a desolation where they come.

Fly, therefore, citizens, if you be wise.

Seek out some habitation further off.

Here, if you stay, your wives will be abused,

Your treasure shared before your weeping eyes.

Shelter you yourselves, for now the storm doth rise.

Away, away! Methinks I hear their drums!

Ah, wretched France, I greatly fear thy fall;

Thy glory shaketh like a tottering wall.