The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works
Page 93
Fervent desire that sits against my heart
Is far more thorny-pricking than this blade
That, with the nightingale, I shall be scarred
As oft as I dispose myself to rest
Until my colours be displayed in France.
This is thy final answer. So be gone.
DUC DE LORRAINE
It is not that, nor any English brave,
Afflicts me so, as doth his poisoned view:
That is most false, should most of all be true. Exit
KING EDWARD
Now, lords, our fleeting barque is under sail,
Our gage is thrown, and war is soon begun,
But not so quickly brought unto an end.
Enter Sir William Montague
But wherefore comes Sir William Montague?
(To Montague) How stands the league between the Scot and us?
MONTAGUE
Cracked and dissevered, my renowned lord.
The treacherous King no sooner was informed
Of your withdrawing of your army back
But straight, forgetting of his former oath,
He made invasion on the bordering towns.
Berwick is won, Newcastle spoiled and lost,
And now the tyrant hath begirt with siege
The Castle of Roxburgh, where, enclosed,
The Countess Salisbury is like to perish.
KING EDWARD (to Warwick)
That is thy daughter, Warwick, is it not?
Whose husband hath in Bretagne served so long
About the planting of Lord Montfort there?
EARL OF WARWICK It is, my lord.
KING EDWARD
Ignoble David, hast thou none to grieve
But seely ladies with thy threat’ning arms?
But I will make you shrink your snaily horns.
(To Audley) First, therefore, Audley, this shall be thy charge:
Go levy footmen for our wars in France.
(To the Prince of Wales) And, Ned, take muster of our men-at-arms.
In every shire elect a several band.
Let them be soldiers of a lusty spirit,
Such as dread nothing but dishonour’s blot.
Be wary therefore, since we do commence
A famous war, and with so mighty a nation.
(To Derby) Derby, be thou ambassador for us
Unto our father-in-law, the Earl of Hainault.
Make him acquainted with our enterprise,
And likewise will him, with our own allies
That are in Flanders, to solicit, too,
The Emperor of Almagne in our name.
Myself, whilst you are jointly thus employed,
Will, with these forces that I have at hand,
March and once more repulse the traitorous Scot.
But sirs, be resolute. We shall have wars
On every side. (To the Prince of Wales) And, Ned, thou must begin
Now to forget thy study and thy books,
And ure thy shoulders to an armour’s weight.
PRINCE OF WALES
As cheerful sounding to my youthful spleen
This tumult is of war’s increasing broils,
As at the coronation of a king
The joyful clamours of the people are
When ‘Ave Caesar’ they pronounce aloud.
Within this school of honour I shall learn
Either to sacrifice my foes to death,
Or, in a rightful quarrel, spend my breath.
Then cheerfully forward, each a several way.
In great affairs ’tis naught to use delay. Exeunt
Sc. 2 Enter the Countess of Salisbury, above
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Alas, how much in vain my poor eyes gaze
For succour that my sovereign should send.
Ah, cousin Montague, I fear thou wants
The lively spirit sharply to solicit
With vehement suit the King in my behalf.
Thou dost not tell him what a grief it is
To be the scornful captive to a Scot,
Either to be wooed with broad untuned oaths,
Or forced by rough insulting barbarism.
Thou dost not tell him, if he here prevail,
How much they will deride us in the North,
And in their vile, uncivil, skipping jigs
Bray forth their conquest and our overthrow
Even in the barren, bleak and fruitless air—
Enter below David King of Scotland and Sir William Douglas with ⌈soldiers, meeting⌉ the Due de Lorraine
(Aside) I must withdraw. The everlasting foe
Comes to the wall. I’ll closely step aside
And list their babble, blunt and full of pride.
The Countess withdraws
KING OF SCOTLAND
My lord of Lorraine, to our brother of France
Commend us as the man in Christendom
That we most reverence and entirely love.
Touching your embassage, return and say
That we with England will not enter parley,
Nor never make fair weather, or take truce,
But burn their neighbour towns, and so persist
With eager roads beyond their city York;
And never shall our bonny riders rest,
Nor rusting canker have the time to eat
Their light-borne snaffle, nor their nimble spur,
Nor lay aside their jacks of gimmaled mail,
Nor hang their staves of grained Scottish ash
In peaceful wise upon their city walls,
Nor from their buttoned tawny leathern belts
Dismiss their biting whinyards, till your King
Cry out, ‘Enough! Spare England now for pity!’
Farewell, and tell him that you leave us here,
Before this castle; say you came from us
Even when we had that yielded to our hands.
DUC DE LORRAINE
Take I my leave, and fairly will return
Your acceptable greeting to my King. Exit
KING OF SCOTLAND (to Douglas)
Now, Douglas, to our former task again
For the division of this certain spoil.
DOUGLAS
My liege, I crave the lady, and no more.
KING OF SCOTLAND
Nay, soft ye, sir; first I must make my choice,
And first I do bespeak her for myself.
DOUGLAS
Why then, my liege, let me enjoy her jewels.
KING OF SCOTLAND
Those are her own, still liable to her;
And who inherits her hath those with all.
Enter a Scottish messenger in haste
MESSENGER
My liege, as we were pricking on the hills
To fetch in booty, marching hitherward
We might descry a mighty host of men.
The sun, reflecting on the armour, showed
A field of plate; a wood of picks advanced.
Bethink your highness speedily herein:
An easy march within four hours will bring
The hindmost rank unto this place, my liege.
KING OF SCOTLAND
Dislodge! Dislodge! It is the King of England!
DOUGLAS ⌈to the Messenger⌉
Jemmy, my man, saddle my bonny black.
KING OF SCOTLAND
Mean’st thou to fight, Douglas? We are too weak.
DOUGLAS
I know it well, my liege, and therefore fly.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY (coming forward above)
My lords of Scotland, will ye stay and drink?
KING OF SCOTLAND
She mocks us, Douglas. I cannot endure it.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Say, good my lord, which is he must have the lady,
And which her jewels? I am sure, my lords,
Ye will not hence till you have shared the spoils.
KING OF SCOTLAND
And now that comfort makes her scorn at us.
Enter another ⌈Scottish⌉ messenger
SECOND MESSENGER
Arm, my good lord! O we are all surprised!
After the French ambassador, my liege,
And tell him that you dare not ride to York.
⌈COUNTESS OF SALISBURY (to the King of Scotland)⌉
Excuse it that your bonny horse is lame.
KING OF SCOTLAND ⌈aside⌉
She heard that too! Intolerable grief!
(To the Countess) Woman, farewell, although I do not stay—
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
‘Tis not for fear, and yet you run away. ⌈Exeunt Scots⌉
O happy comfort, welcome to our house!
The confident and boist’rous boasting Scot,
That swore before my walls they would not back
For all the armed power of this land,
With faceless fear that ever turns his back,
Turned hence against the blasting north-east wind
Upon the bare report and name of arms!
Enter Sir William de Montague with soldiers
O summer’s day! See where my cousin comes!
MONTAGUE
How fares my aunt? We are not Scots—
Why do you shut your gates against your friends?
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Well may I give a welcome, coz, to thee,
For thou com’st well to chase my foes from hence.
MONTAGUE
The King himself is come in person hither.
Dear aunt, descend, and gratulate his highness.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
How may I entertain his majesty
To show my duty and his dignity?
Exit from above
Enter King Edward, the Earl of Warwick and the Comte d’Artois, with others, ⌈including Lodowick⌉
KING EDWARD
What, are the stealing foxes fled and gone
Before we could uncouple at their heels?
EARL OF WARWICK
They are, my liege, but with a cheerful cry
Hot hounds and hardy chase them at the heels.
Enter the Countess of Salisbury below
KING EDWARD
This is the Countess, Warwick, is it not?
EARL OF WARWICK
Even she, my liege, whose beauty tyrants’ fear—
As a May blossom with pernicious winds—
Hath sullied, withered, overcast and done.
KING EDWARD
Hath she been fairer, Warwick, than she is?
EARL OF WARWICK
My gracious King, fair is she not at all
If that her self were by to stain herself
As I have seen her when she was her self.
KING EDWARD ⌈aside⌉
What strange enchantment lurked in those her eyes,
When they excelled this excellence they have,
That now her dim decline hath power to draw
My subject eyes from piercing majesty
To gaze on her with doting admiration?
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY (kneeling before King Edward)
In duty, lower than the ground I kneel,
And fore my dull knees bow my feeling heart,
To witness my obedience to your highness
With many millions of a subject’s thanks
For this your royal presence, whose approach
Hath driven war and danger from my gate.
KING EDWARD
Lady, stand up. I come to bring thee peace,
However thereby I have purchased war.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY (rising)
No war to you, my liege. The Scots are gone
And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate.
KING EDWARD (aside)
Lest yielding here I pine in shameful love—
(Aloud) Come, we’ll pursue the Scots. Artois, away!
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
A little while, my gracious sovereign, stay,
And let the power of a mighty king
Honour our roof. My husband, in the wars,
When he shall hear it, will triumph for joy.
Then, dear my liege, now niggard not thy state;
Being at the wall, enter our homely gate.
KING EDWARD
Pardon me, Countess, I will come no near:
I dreamed tonight of treason, and I fear.
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Far from this place let ugly treason lie.
KING EDWARD (aside)
No farther off than her conspiring eye,
Which shoots infected poison in my heart
Beyond repulse of wit or cure of art.
Now in the sun alone it doth not lie
With light to take light from a mortal eye;
For here two day-stars that mine eyes would see
More than the sun steals mine own light from me.
Contemplative desire, desire to be
In contemplation that may master thee.
(Aloud) Warwick, Artois, to horse and let’s away!
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
What might I speak to make my sovereign stay?
KING EDWARD (aside)
What needs a tongue to such a speaking eye
That more persuades than winning oratory?
COUNTESS OF SALISBURY
Let not thy presence, like the April sun,
Flatter our earth and suddenly be done.
More happy do not make our outward wall
Than thou wilt grace our inner house withal.
Our house, my liege, is like a country swain,
Whose habit rude, and manners blunt and plain,
Presageth naught, yet inly beautified
With bounty’s riches and fair hidden pride.
For where the golden ore doth buried lie,
The ground, undecked with nature’s tapestry,
Seems barren, sere, unfertile, fruitless, dry;
And where the upper turf of earth doth boast
His pride, perfumes and parti-coloured cost,
Delve there and find this issue and their pride
To spring from ordure and corruptious stied.
But, to make up my all-too-long compare,
These ragged walls no testimony are
What is within, but like a cloak doth hide
From weather’s waste the under garnished pride.
More gracious than my terms can, let thee be:
Entreat thyself to stay a while with me.
KING EDWARD
As wise as fair—what fond fit can be heard
When wisdom keeps the gate as beauty’s guard?
Countess, albeit my business urgeth me
It shall attend while I attend on thee.
Come on, my lords, here will I host tonight.
Exeunt ⌈all but Lodowick⌉
LODOWICK
I might perceive his eye in her eye lost,
His ear to drink her sweet tongue’s utterance,
And changing passion, like inconstant clouds
That rack upon the carriage of the winds,
Increase and die in his disturbed cheeks.
Lo, when she blushed, even then did he look pale,
As if her cheeks by some enchanted power
Attracted had the cherry blood from his.
Anon, with reverent fear when she grew pale,
His cheeks put on their scarlet ornaments,
But no more like her oriental red
Than brick to coral or live things to dead.
Why did he then thus counterfeit her looks?
If she did blush, ‘twas tender modest shame
Being in the sacred presence of a king.
If he did blush, ’twas rude immodest shame
To vail his eyes amiss, being a king.
If she looked pale, ‘twas seely woman’s fear
&nbs
p; To bear herself in presence of a king.
If he looked pale, it was with guilty fear
To dote amiss, being a mighty king.
Then, Scottish wars, farewell. I fear ’twill prove
A ling’ring English siege of peevish love.
Enter King Edward
Here comes his highness, walking all alone.
⌈Lodowick withdraws⌉
KING EDWARD (aside)
She is grown more fairer far since I came hither,
Her voice more silver every word than other,
Her wit more fluent. What a strange discourse
Unfolded she of David and his Scots:
‘Even thus’, quoth she, ‘he spake,’ and then spoke broad,
With epithets and accents of the Scot,
But somewhat better than the Scot could speak.
‘And thus,’ quoth she, and answered then herself,
For who could speak like her? But she herself
Breathes from the wall an angel’s note from heaven
Of sweet defiance to her barbarous foes.
When she would talk of peace, methinks her tongue
Commanded war to prison; when of war,
It wakened Caesar from his Roman grave
To hear war beautified by her discourse;
Wisdom is foolishness but in her tongue,
Beauty a slander but in her fair face,
There is no summer but in her cheerful looks,
Nor frosty winter but in her disdain.
I cannot blame the Scots that did besiege her,
For she is all the treasure of our land,
But call them cowards that they ran away,
Having so rich and fair a cause to stay.
(Aloud) Art thou there, Lod’wick?
⌈Lodowick comes forward⌉
Give me ink and paper.
LODOWICK I will, my liege.
KING EDWARD
And bid the lords hold on their play at chess,
For we will walk and meditate alone.
LODOWICK I will, my sovereign. Exit
KING EDWARD
This fellow is well read in poetry,
And hath a lusty and persuasive spirit.
I will acquaint him with my passion,
Which he shall shadow with a veil of lawn,
Through which the queen of beauty’s queen shall see
Herself the ground of my infirmity.
Enter Lodowick, with pen, ink and paper
Hast thou pen, ink and paper ready, Lod’wick?
LODOWICK Ready, my liege.
KING EDWARD
Then in the summer arbour sit by me;