Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Sonia; Young, Jennifer Massai
Not Peer Reviewed

Edward III (Quarto 1, 1596)

The Raigne of King
Nor frosty winter, but in her disdayne,
395I 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,
Hauing so rich and faire a cause to stay.
Art thou thete Lodwicke, giue me incke and paper?
400Lo: I will my liege.
K: And bid the Lords hold on their play at Chesse,
For wee will walke and meditate alone.
Lo: I will my soueraigne.
Ki: This fellow is well read in poetrie,
405And hath a lustie and perswasiue spirite:
I will acquaint him with my passion,
Which he shall shadow with a vaile of lawne,
Through which the Queene of beauties Queene shall see,
Herselfe the ground of my infirmitie.
Enter Lodwike.
Ki: Hast thou pen, inke and paper ready Lodowike,
Lo: Ready my liege.
Ki: Then in the sommer arber sit by me,
Make it our counsel house or cabynet:
415Since greene our thoughts, greene be the conuenticle,
Where we will ease vs by disburdning them:
Now Lodwike inuocate some golden Muse,
To bring thee hither an inchanted pen,
That may for sighes, set downe true sighes indeed:
420Talking of griefe, to make thee ready grone,
And when thou writest of teares, encouch the word,
Before and after with such sweete laments,
That it may rayse drops in a Torters eye,
And make a flynt heart Sythian pytifull,
425For so much moouing hath a Poets pen:
Then if thou be a Poet moue thou so,
And be enriched by thy soueraigne loue:
For if the touch of sweet concordant strings,
Could force attendance in the eares of hel: