When Cressy battle fatally was struck,

And all our princes captived by the hand

Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of
Wales;

60

Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing,
Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun,
Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him,
Mangle the work of nature, and deface
The patterns that by God and by French fathers
Had twenty years been made. This is a stem
Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and fate of him.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Ambassadors from Harry King of England
Do crave admittance to your majesty.

Fr. King. We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them.

[Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords.

You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

Dau. Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs Most spend their mouths when what they seem to

threaten

Runs far before them. Good my sovereign,
up the English short, and let them know

Take

70

Of what a monarchy you are the head:
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
As self-neglecting.

Fr. King.

Re-enter Lords, with Exeter and train.
From our brother England?
Exe. From him; and thus he greets your majesty.
He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,
That you divest yourself, and lay apart
The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven,
By law of nature and of nations, 'long
To him and to his heirs ; namely, the crown
And all wide-stretched honours that pertain
By custom and the ordinance of times

Unto the crown of France. That you may know
'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,

80

Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked,
He sends you this most memorable line,
In every branch truly demonstrative;
Willing you overlook this pedigree:
And when you find him evenly derived
From his most famed of famous ancestors,
Edward the third, he bids you then resign
Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held

90

From him the native and true challenger.

Fr. King. Or else what follows?

Exe. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown
Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it :
Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove,
That, if requiring fail, he will compel ;
you, in the bowels of the Lord,
and to take mercy

And bids

Deliver the
up

crown,

100

On the poor souls for whom this hungry war Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans, For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. This is his claim, his threatening, and my message; Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, To whom expressly I bring greeting too. Fr. King. For us, we will consider of this further : To-morrow shall you bear our full intent Back to our brother England.

Dau.

For the Dauphin,

III

I stand here for him: what to him from England? Exe. Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, And any thing that may not misbecome

The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.

Thus says my king; an if your father's highness 120
Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty,
He'll call you to so hot an answer of it,
That caves and womby vaultages of France
Shall chide your trespass, and return your mock
In second accent of his ordnance.

Dau. Say, if my father render fair return,

It is against my will; for I desire

Nothing but odds with England: to that end,
As matching to his youth and vanity,

I did present him with the Paris balls.
Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe:
And, be assured, you'll find a difference,
As we his subjects have in wonder found,
Between the promise of his greener days
And these he masters now: now he weighs time
Even to the utmost grain; that you shall read
In your own losses, if he stay in France.

130

Fr. King. To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. Exe. Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king 141 Come here himself to question our delay;

For he is footed in this land already.

Fr. King. You shall be soon dispatch'd with fair con

ditions:

A night is but small breath and little pause

To answer matters of this consequence.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

Act Third.

Prologue.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies
In motion of no less celerity

Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
The well-appointed king at Hampton pier

Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
With silken streamers the young
Phoebus fanning:
Play with your fancies, and in them behold
Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give
To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails, 10
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,