Which thou dost wear and that I vow to have,

Or one of us shall fall into his grave.

PRINCE OF WALES

Look not for cross invectives at our hands,

Or railing execrations of despite.

Let creeping serpents hid in hollow banks

Sting with their tongues; we have remorseless swords,

And they shall plead for us and our affairs.

Yet thus much briefly, by my father’s leave,

As all the immodest poison of thy throat

Is scandalous and most notorious lies,

And our pretended quarrel is truly just,

So end the battle when we meet today:

May either of us prosper and prevail

Or, luckless cursed, receive eternal shame.

KING EDWARD

That needs no further question, and I know

His conscience witnesseth it is my right.

Therefore, Valois, say: wilt thou yet resign

Before the sickle’s thrust into the corn,

Or that enkindled fury turn to flame?

KING OF FRANCE

Edward, I know what right thou hast in France,

And ere I basely will resign my crown

This champaign field shall be a pool of blood,

And all our prospect as a slaughterhouse.

PRINCE OF WALES

Ay, that approves thee, tyrant, what thou art.

No father, king, or shepherd of thy realm,

But one that tears her entrails with thy hands

And, like a thirsty tiger, suck’st her blood.

AUDLEY

You peers of France, why do you follow him

That is so prodigal to spend your lives?

DAUPHIN

Whom should they follow, aged impotent,

But he that is their true-born sovereign?

KING EDWARD

Upbraid’st thou him because within his face

Time hath engraved deep characters of age?

Know that these grave scholars of experience,

Like stiff-grown oaks, will stand immovable

When whirlwind quickly turns up younger trees.

EARL OF DERBY (to the King of France)

Was ever any of thy father’s house

King but thyself before this present time?

(To the French generally) Edward’s great lineage by the

mother’s side

Five hundred years hath held the sceptre up.

Judge then, conspirators, by this descent

Which is the true-born sovereign—this, or that.

PRINCE PHILIPPE (to the King of France)

Father, range your battles. Prate no more.

These English fain would spend the time in words

That, night approaching, they might scape unfought.

KING OF FRANCE

Lords and my loving subjects, now’s the time

That your intended force must bide the touch.

Therefore, my friends, consider this in brief.

He that you fight for is your natural king;

He against whom you fight a foreigner.

He that you fight for rules in clemency,

And reigns you with a mild and gentle bit;

He against whom you fight, if he prevail,

Will straight enthrone himself in tyranny,

Make slaves of you and with a heavy hand

Curtail and curb your sweetest liberty.

Then, to protect your country and your King,

Let but the haughty courage of your hearts

Answer the number of your able hands,

And we shall quickly chase these fugitives.

For what’s this Edward but a belly-god,

A tender and lascivious wantonness,

That th‘other day was almost dead for love?

And what, I pray you, is his goodly guard?

Such as, but scant them of their chines of beef,

And take away their downy feather beds,

And presently they are as resty-stiff

As ’twere a many overridden jades.

Then, Frenchmen, scorn that such should be your lords,

And rather bind ye them in captive bands.

ALL THE FRENCH

Vive le roil God save King Jean of Francel

KING OF FRANCE

Now, on this plain of Crécy, spread yourselves.

And, Edward, when thou dar’st, begin the fight!

Exit with the French

KING EDWARD (calling after)

We presently will meet thee, Jean of France!

(To the English) And, English lords, let us resolve the day

Either to clear us of that scandalous crime

Or be entombed in our innocence.

(To the Prince of Wales) And, Ned, because this battle is the first

That ever yet thou fought’st in pitched field,

As ancient custom is of martialists

To dub thee with the type of chivalry,

In solemn manner we will give thee arms.

Come, therefore, heralds; orderly bring forth

A strong attirement for the Prince my son.

Enter four heralds bringing in a coat armour, a helmet, a lance and a shield

Edward Plantagenet, in the name of God,

As with this armour I impale thy breast

So be thy noble, unrelenting heart

Walled in with flint of matchless fortitude

That never base affections enter there.

⌈The Prince of Wales is invested in armour⌉

Fight and be valiant; conquer where thou com’st.

(To Derby, Audley and Artois) Now follow, lords, and do him honour too.

EARL OF DERBY

Edward Plantagenet, Prince of Wales,

As I do set this helmet on thy head

Wherewith the chamber of thy brain is fenced,

So may thy temples with Bellona’s hand