Poems
And beam forth lustre on a darkling world,
Grow large as we advance: and some, perhaps
The most obscure at home, that scarce were seen
To twinkle in their sphere, may so advance
That the astonished world, with upturned eyes,
Regardless of the moon, and those that once were bright,
Stand only for to gaze upon their splendour.
[_He here knights the Prince and other young Nobles_
Now let us take a just revenge for those
Brave lords who fell beneath the bloody axe
At Paris. Thanks, noble Harcourt, for it was
By your advice we landed here in Brittany,
A country not yet sown with destruction,
And where the fiery whirlwind of swift war
Has not yet swept its desolating wing.—
Into three parties we divide by day,
And separate march, but join again at night:
Each knows his rank, and Heaven marshal all. [_Exeunt_
SCENE—_English Court_
LIONEL, DUKE OF CLARENCE, QUEEN PHILIPPA, _Lords_, _Bishop_, _&c_.
CLARENCE
My Lords, I have by the advice of her
Whom I am doubly bound to obey, my parent
And my sovereign, called you together.
My task is great, my burden heavier
Than my unfledged years;
Yet with your kind assistance, Lords, I hope
England shall dwell in peace; that, while my father
Toils in his wars, and turns his eyes on this
His native shore, and sees Commerce fly round
With his white wings, and sees his golden London
And her silver Thames thronged with shining spires
And corded ships, her merchants buzzing round
Like summer bees, and all the golden cities
In his land overflowing with honey,
Glory may not be dimmed with clouds of care.
Say, Lords, should not our thoughts be first to Commerce?
My Lord Bishop, you would recommend us Agriculture?
BISHOP
Sweet Prince, the arts of peace are great,
And no less glorious than those of war,
Perhaps more glorious, in the philosophic
mind.
When I sit at my home, a private man,
My thoughts are on my gardens and my fields,
How to employ the hand that lacketh bread.
If Industry is in my diocese,
Religion will flourish; each man’s heart
Is cultivated and will bring forth fruit:
This is my private duty and my pleasure.
But, as I sit in council with my prince,
My thoughts take in the general good of the whole,
And England is the land favoured by Commerce;
For Commerce, though the child of Agriculture,
Fosters his parent, who else must sweat and toil,
And gain but scanty fare. Then, my dear Lord,
Be England’s trade our care; and we as tradesmen,
Looking to the gain of this our native land.
CLARENCE
O my good Lord, true wisdom drops like honey
From your tongue, as from a worshipped oak!
Forgive, my Lords, my talkative youth, that speaks
Not merely what my narrow observation has
Pick’d up, but what I have concluded from your lessons.
Now, by the Queen’s advice, I ask your leave
To dine to-morrow with the Mayor of London;
If I obtain your leave, I have another boon
To ask, which is the favour of your company.
I fear Lord Percy will not give me leave.
PERCY
Dear Sir, a prince should always keep his state,
And grant his favours with a sparing hand,
Or they are never rightly valued.
These are my thoughts: yet it were best to go:
But keep a proper dignity, for now
You represent the sacred person of
Your father; ’tis with princes as ’tis with the sun;
If not sometimes o’erclouded, we grow weary
Of his officious glory.
CLARENCE
Then you will give me leave to shine sometimes,
My Lord?
LORD (_aside_)
Thou hast a gallant spirit, which I fear
Will be imposed on by the closer sort.
CLARENCE
Well, I’ll endeavour to take
Lord Percy’s advice; I have been used so much
To dignity that I’m sick on’t.
QUEEN PHILIPPA
Fie, fie, Lord Clarence! you proceed not to business,
But speak of your own pleasures.
I hope their lordships will excuse your giddiness.
CLARENCE
My Lords, the French have fitted out many
Small ships of war that, like to ravening wolves,
Infest our English seas, devouring all
Our burdened vessels, spoiling our naval flocks.
The merchants do complain, and beg our aid.
PERCY
The merchants are rich enough;
Can they not help themselves?
BISHOP
They can, and may; but how to gain their will
Requires our countenance and help.
PERCY
When that they find they must, my Lord, they will:
Let them but suffer awhile, and you shall see
They will bestir themselves.
BISHOP
Lord Percy cannot mean that we should suffer
This disgrace. If so, we are not sovereigns
Of the sea,—our right, that Heaven gave
To England, when at the birth of Nature
She was seated in the deep; the Ocean ceased
His mighty roar, and, fawning, played around
Her snowy feet, and owned his awful Queen.
Lord Percy, if the heart is sick, the head
Must be aggrieved; if but one member suffer,
The heart doth fail. You say, my Lord, the merchants
Can, if they will, defend themselves against
These rovers: this is a noble scheme,
Worthy the brave Lord Percy, and as worthy
His generous aid to put it into practice.
PERCY
Lord Bishop, what was rash in me is wise
In you; I dare not own the plan. ’Tis not
Mine. Yet will I, if you please,
Quickly to the Lord Mayor, and work him onward
To this most glorious voyage; on which cast
I’ll set my whole estate,
But we will bring these Gallic rovers under.
QUEEN PHILIPPA
Thanks, brave Lord Percy; you have the thanks
Of England’s Queen, and will, ere long, of England. [_Exeunt_
SCENE—_At Cressy_
SIR THOMAS DAGWORTH _and_ LORD AUDLEY _meeting_
AUDLEY
Good morrow, brave Sir Thomas; the bright morn
Smiles on our army, and the gallant sun
Springs from the hills like a young hero
Into the battle, shaking his golden locks
Exultingly: this is a promising day.
DAGWORTH
Why, my Lord Audley, I don’t know.
Give me your hand, and now I’ll tell you what
I think you do not know. Edward’s afraid of Philip.
AUDLEY
Ha, ha! Sir Thomas! you but joke;
Did you e’er see him fear? At Blanchetaque,
When almost singly he drove six thousand
French from the ford, did he fear then?
DAGWORTH
Yes, fear. That made him fight so.
AUDLEY
By the same reason I might say ’tis fear
That makes you fight.
DAGWORTH
Mayhap you may. Look upon Edward’s face,
No one can say he fears; but, when he turns
His back, then I will say it to his face;
He is afraid: he makes us all afraid.
I cannot bear the enemy at my back.
Now here we are at Cressy; where to-morrow,
To-morrow we shall know. I say, Lord Audley,
That Edward runs away from Philip.
AUDLEY
Perhaps you think the Prince too is afraid?
DAGWORTH
No; God forbid! I am sure he is not.
He is a young lion. Oh, I have seen him fight
And give command, and lightning has flashed
From his eyes across the field: I have seen him
Shake hands with Death, and strike a bargain for
The enemy; he has danced in the field
Of battle, like the youth at morris-play.
I’m sure he’s not afraid, nor Warwick, nor none,
None of us but me, and I am very much afraid.
AUDLEY
Are you afraid, too, Sir Thomas?
I believe that as much as I believe
The King’s afraid; but what are you afraid of?
DAGWORTH
Of having my back laid open; we turn
Our backs to the fire, till we shall burn our skirts.
AUDLEY
And this, Sir Thomas, you call fear? Your fear
Is of a different kind then from the King’s;
He fears to turn his face, and you to turn your back.
I do not think, Sir Thomas, you know what fear is.
_Enter_ SIR JOHN CHANDOS
CHANDOS
Good morrow, Generals; I give you joy:
Welcome to the fields of Cressy. Here we stop,
And wait for Philip.
DAGWORTH
I hope so.
AUDLEY
There, Sir Thomas; do you call that fear?
DAGWORTH
I don’t know; perhaps he takes it by fits.
Why, noble Chandos, look you here—
One rotten sheep spoils the whole flock;
And if the bell-wether is tainted, I wish
The Prince may not catch the distemper too.
CHANDOS
Distemper, Sir Thomas! what distemper?
I have not heard.
DAGWORTH
Why, Chandos, you are a wise man,
I know you understand me; a distemper
The King caught here in France of running away.
AUDLEY
Sir Thomas, you say you have caught it too.
DAGWORTH
And so will the whole army; ’tis very catching,
For, when the coward runs, the brave man totters.
Perhaps the air of the country is the cause.
I feel it coming upon me, so I strive against it;
You yet are whole; but, after a few more
Retreats, we all shall know how to retreat
Better than fight.—To be plain, I think retreating
Too often takes away a soldier’s courage.
CHANDOS
Here comes the King himself; tell him your thoughts
Plainly, Sir Thomas.
DAGWORTH
I’ve told him before, but his disorder
Has made him deaf.
_Enter_ KING EDWARD _and_ BLACK PRINCE
KING
Good morrow, Generals; when English courage fails
Down goes our right to France.
But we are conquerors everywhere; nothing
Can stand our soldiers; each man is worthy
Of a triumph. Such an army of heroes
Ne’er shouted to the heavens, nor shook the field.
Edward, my son, thou art
Most happy, having such command: the man
Were base who were not fired to deeds
Above heroic, having such examples.
PRINCE
Sire, with respect and deference I look
Upon such noble souls, and wish myself
Worthy the high command that Heaven and you
Have given me. When I have seen the field glow,
And in each countenance the soul of war
Curbed by the manliest reason, I have been winged
With certain victory; and ’tis my boast,
And shall be still my glory, I was inspired
By these brave troops.
DAGWORTH
Your Grace had better make
Them all Generals.
KING
Sir Thomas Dagworth, you must have your joke,
And shall, while you can fight as you did at
The Ford.
DAGWORTH
I have a small petition to your Majesty.
KING
What can Sir Thomas Dagworth ask that Edward
Can refuse?
DAGWORTH
I hope your Majesty cannot refuse so great
A trifle; I’ve gilt your cause with my best blood,
And would again, were I not forbid
By him whom I am bound to obey: my hands
Are tied up, my courage shrunk and withered,
My sinews slackened, and my voice scarce heard;
Therefore I beg I may return to England.
KING
I know not what you could have asked, Sir Thomas,
That I would not have sooner parted with
Than such a soldier as you have been, and such a friend: