AUDLEY. I take thy gift, to pay the debts I owe: These two poor Esquires redeemed me from the French With lusty & dear hazard of their lives: What thou hast given me, I give to them; And, as thou lovest me, prince, lay thy consent To this bequeath in my last testament.

PRINCE EDWARD. Renowned Audley, live, and have from me This gift twice doubled to these Esquires and thee: But live or die, what thou hast given away To these and theirs shall lasting freedom stay. Come, gentlemen, I will see my friend bestowed With in an easy Litter; then we'll march Proudly toward Callis, with triumphant pace, Unto my royal father, and there bring The tribute of my wars, fair France his king.

[Exit.]

ACT V. SCENE I. Picardy. The English Camp before Calais.

[Enter King Edward, Queen Phillip, Derby, soldiers.]

KING EDWARD. No more, Queen Phillip, pacify your self; 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.

[Enter six Citizens in their Shirts, bare foot, with halters about their necks.]

ALL. 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 threatening swords!

FIRST CITIZEN. 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 do 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 CITIZEN. 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 your selves, 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;--go, soldiers, see it done.

QUEEN PHILLIP. 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, Phillip, prevail; we yield to thy request: These men shall live to boast of clemency, And, tyranny, strike terror to thy self.

SECOND CITIZEN. Long live your highness! happy be your reign!

KING EDWARD. Go, get you hence, return unto the town, And if this kindness hath deserved your love, Learn then to reverence Edward as your king.--

[Exeunt Citizens.]

Now, might we hear of our affairs abroad, We would, till gloomy Winter were o'er spent, Dispose our men in garrison a while. But who comes here?

[Enter Copland and King David.]

DERBY. Copland, my Lord, and David, King of Scots.

KING EDWARD. Is this the proud presumptuous Esquire of the North, That would not yield his prisoner to my Queen?

COPLAND. I am, my liege, a Northern Esquire indeed, But neither proud nor insolent, I trust.

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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