These two poor squires redeemed me from the French

With lusty and dear hazard of their lives.

What thou hast given me, I give to them,

And as thou lov’st me, Prince, lay thy consent

To this bequeath in my last testament.

PRINCE OF WALES

Renowned Audley, live, and have from me

This gift twice doubled to these squires and thee.

But live or die, what thou hast given away

To these and theirs shall lasting freedom stay.

(To the Squires) Come, gentlemen, I’ll see my friend bestowed

Within an easy litter. Then we’ll march

Proudly toward Calais with triumphant pace,

Unto my royal father, and there bring

The tribute of my wars: fair France his king.

Exeunt

Sc. 18 Enter fat one door⌉, as Supplicants, six citizens of Calais in their shirts, barefoot, with halters about their necks. Enter fat another door⌉ King Edward speaking with Queen Philippa. Enter with them the Earl of Derby and soldiers

KING EDWARD

No more, Queen Philip—pacify yourself.

Copland, except he can excuse his fault,

Shall find displeasure written in our looks.

And now, unto this proud, resisting town.

Soldiers, assault! I will no longer stay

To be deluded by their false delays.

Put all to sword, and make the spoil your own.

ALL SIX SUPPLICANTS ⌈coming forward⌉

Mercy, King Edward! Mercy, gracious lord!

KING EDWARD

Contemptuous villains, call ye now for truce?

Mine ears are stopped against your bootless cries.

Sound drums alarum, draw threat’ning swords!

FIRST SUPPLICANT

Ah, noble prince, take pity on this town,

And hear us, mighty King.

We claim the promise that your highness made—

The two days’ respite is not yet expired,

And we are come with willingness to bear

What torturing death or punishment you please,

So that the trembling multitude be saved.

KING EDWARD

My promise—well, I do confess as much.

But I require the chiefest citizens

And men of most account that should submit.

You, peradventure, are but servile grooms,

Or some felonious robbers on the sea,

Whom, apprehended, law would execute,

Albeit severity lay dead in us.

No, no—ye cannot overreach us thus.

SECOND SUPPLICANT

The sun, dread lord, that in the western fall

Beholds us now low-brought through misery,

Did, in the orient purple of the morn,

Salute our coming forth when we were known

⌉

Or may our portion be with damned fiends.

KING EDWARD

If it be so, then let our covenant stand.

We take possession of the town in peace,

But for yourselves, look you for no remorse.

But, as imperial justice hath decreed,

Your bodies shall be dragged about these walls,

And, after, feel the stroke of quartering steel.

This is your doom. (To the soldiers) Go, soldiers, see it

done.

QUEEN PHILIPPA A

Ah, be more mild unto these yielding men!

It is a glorious thing to stablish peace,

And kings approach the nearest unto God

By giving life and safety unto men.

As thou intendest to be king of France,

So let her people live to call thee king.

For what the sword cuts down, or fire hath spoiled,

Is held in reputation none of ours.

KING EDWARD

Although experience teach us this is true—

That peaceful quietness brings most delight

When most of all abuses are controlled—

Yet, insomuch it shall be known that we

As well can master our affections

As conquer other by the dint of sword,

Philip, prevail: we yield to thy request—

These men shall live to boast of clemency,

And, tyranny, strike terror to thyself.

SECOND SUPPLICANT

Long live your highness! Happy be your reign!

KING EDWARD (to the six Supplicants)

Go, get you hencel Return unto the town.

And if this kindness hath deserved your love,

Learn then to reverence Edward as your king.

Exeunt the six Supplicants

Now might we hear of our affairs abroad,

We would till gloomy winter were o’erspent

Dispose our men in garrison a while.

Enter Copland, with David King of Scotland as his prisoner

But who comes here?

EARL OF DERBY

Copland, my lord, and David King of Scots.

KING EDWARD

Is this the proud, presumptuous squire of the north

That would not yield his prisoner to my Queen?

COPLAND

I am, my liege, a northern squire indeed,

But neither proud nor insolent, I trust.

KING EDWARD

What moved thee, then, to be so obstinate

To contradict our royal Queen’s desire?

COPLAND

No wilful disobedience, mighty lord,

But my desert, and public law at arms.

I took the King, myself, in single fight,

And, like a soldier, would be loath to lose

The least pre-eminence that I had won.

And Copland, straight upon your highness’ charge,

Is come to France, and with a lowly mind

Doth vail the bonnet of his victory.

Receive, dread lord, the custom of my freight,

The wealthy tribute of my labouring hands,