Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Sonia Massai
Not Peer Reviewed

Edward III (Quarto 1, 1596)


The Raigne of King
Heere stood a battaile of ten tstousand horse,
There twise as many pikes in quadrant wise,
Here Crosbowes and deadly wounding darts,
And in the midst like to a slender poynt,
2495Within the compasse of the horison,
as twere a rising bubble in the sea,
A Hasle wand a midst a wood of Pynes,
Or as a beare fast chaind vnto a stake,
Stood famous Edward still expecting when
2500Those doggs of Fraunce would fasten on his flesh
Anon the death procuring knell begins,
Off goe the Cannons that with trembling noyse,
Did shake the very Mountayne where they stood,
Then sound the Trumpets clangor in the aire,
2505The battailes ioyne, and when we could no more,
Discerne the difference twixt the friend and fo,
So intricate the darke confusion was,
Away we turnd our watrie eies with sighs,
as blacke as pouder fuming into smoke,
2510And thus I feare, vnhappie haue I told,
The most vntimely tale of Edwards fall.
Qu: Ah me, is this my welcome into Fraunce:
Is this the comfort that I lookt to haue,
When I should meete with my belooued sonne:
2515Sweete Ned, I would thy mother in the sea
Had been preuented of this mortall griefe.
Ki: Content thee Phillip, tis not teares will serue,
To call him backe, if he be taken hence,
Comfort thy selfe as I do gentle Queene,
2520With hope of sharpe vnheard of dyre reuenge,
He bids me to prouide his funerall.
And so I will, but all the Peeres in Fraunce,
Shall mourners be, and weepe out bloody teares,
Vntill their emptie vaines be drie and sere
2525The pillers of his hearse shall be his bones,
The mould that couers him, their Citie ashes,
His knell the groning cryes of dying men,
and