Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Edward III (Quarto 1, 1596)
  • Editor: Sonia Massai

  • Copyright Sonia Massai. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Sonia Massai
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Edward III (Quarto 1, 1596)

    The Raigne of King
    Enter the Countesse.
    180Alas how much in vaine my poore eyes gaze,
    For souccour that my soueraigne should send;
    A cosin Mountague, I feare thou wants,
    The liuely spirirt sharpely to solicit,
    Wth vehement sute the king in my behalfe:
    185Thou dost not tell him what a griefe it is,
    To be the scornefull captiue to a Scot,
    Either to be wooed with broad vntuned othes,
    Or forst by rough insulting barbarisme:
    Thou doest not tell him if he heere preuaile,
    190How much they will deride vs in the North,
    And in their vild vnseuill skipping giggs,
    Bray foorth their Conquest, and our ouerthrow,
    Euen in the barraine, bleake and fruitlesse aire,
    Enter Dauid and Douglas, Lorraine.
    195I must withdraw, the euerlasting foe,
    Comes to the wall, Ile closely step aside,
    And list their babble blunt and full of pride.
    K. Da: My Lord of Lorrayne, to our brother of Fraunce,
    Commend vs as the man in Christendome,
    200That we must reuerence and intirely loue,
    Touching your embassage, returne and say,
    That we with England will not enter parlie,
    Nor neuer make faire wether, or take truce,
    But burne their neighbor townes and so persist,
    205With eager Rods beyond their Citie Yorke,
    And neuer shall our bonny riders rest:
    Nor rust in canker, haue the time to eate,
    Their light borne snaffles, nor their nimble spurre
    Nor lay aside their Iacks of Gymould mayle,
    210Nor hang their staues of grayned Scottish ash,
    In peacefull wise, vpon their Citie wals,
    Nor from their buttoned tawny leatherne belts,
    Dismisse their byting whinyards, till your King,
    Chr
    Edward the third.
    Cry out enough, spare England now for pittie,
    215Farewell, and tell him that you leaue vs heare,
    Before this Castle, say you came from vs,
    Euen when we had that yeelded to our hands,
    Lor: take my leaue and fayrely will returne
    Your acceptable greeting to my king. Exit Lor.
    220K. D: Now Duglas to our former taske again,
    For the deuision of this certayne spoyle.
    Dou: My liege I craue the Ladie and no more,
    King. Nay soft ye sir, first I must make my choyse,
    And first I do bespeake her for my selfe,
    225Da. Why then my liege let me enioy her iewels,
    King: Those are her owne still liable to her,
    And who inherits her, hath those with all.
    Enter a Scot in hast.
    Mes: My liege, as we were pricking on the hils,
    230To fetch in booty, marching hitherward,
    We might discry a mighty host of men,
    The Sunne reflicting on the armour shewed,
    A field of plate, a wood of pickes aduanced:
    Bethinke your highnes speedely herein,
    235An easie march within foure howres will bring,
    The hindmost rancke, vnto this place my liege.
    King: Dislodge, dislodge, it is the king of England.
    Dug: Iemmy my man, saddle my bonny blacke.
    King: Meanst thou to fight, Duglas we are to weake.
    240Du: I know it well my liege, and therefore flie.
    Cou: My Lords of Scotland will ye stay and drinke:
    King: She mocks at vs Duglas, I cannot endure it.
    Count, Say good my Lord, which is he must haue the Ladie,
    And which her iewels, I am sure my Lords
    245Ye will not hence, till you haue shard the spoyles.
    King: Shee heard the messenger, and heard our talke.
    And now that comfort makes her scorne at vs.
    Annother messenger.
    Mes: Arme my good Lord, O we are all surprisde.
    2 After
    The Raigne of King
    250After the French embassador my liege,
    And tell him that you dare not ride to Yorke,
    Excuse it that your bonnie horse is lame.
    K. He heard that to, intollerable griefe:
    Woman farewell although I do not stay. Exunt Scots.
    255Count: Tis not for feare, and yet you run away,
    O happie comfort welcome to our house,
    The confident and boystrous boasting Scot,
    That swore before my walls they would not backe,
    For all the armed power of this land,
    260With facelesse feare that euer turnes his backe:
    Turnd hence againe the blasting North-east winde:
    Vpon the bare report and name of Armes.
    Enter Mountague.
    Mo: O Sommers day, see where my Cosin comes:
    265How fares my Aunt? we are not Scots,
    Why do you shut your gates against your friends?
    Co: Well may I giue a welcome Cosin to thee:
    For thou comst well to chase my foes from hence.
    Mo: The king himselfe is come in person hither:
    270Deare Aunt discend and gratulate his highnes.
    Co: How may I entertayne his Maiestie,
    To shew my duety, and his dignitie.
    Enter king Edward, Warwike, Artoyes, with others.
    K. Ed: What are the stealing Foxes fled and gone
    275Before we could vncupple at their heeles.
    War: They are my liege, but with a cheereful cry,
    Hot hunds and hardie chase them at the heeles.
    Enter Countesse.
    K. Ed: This is the Countesse Warwike, is it not.
    280War: Euen shee liege, whose beauty tyrants feare,
    As a May blossome with pernitious winds,
    Hath sullied, withered ouercast and donne.
    K. Ed: Hath she been fairer Warwike then she is?
    War: My gratious King, faire is she not at all,
    285If that her selfe were by to staine herselfe,
    As
    Edward the third.
    As I haue seene her when she was her selfe.
    K. Ed: What strange enchantment lurke in those her eyes?
    When they exceld this excellence they haue,
    That now her dym declyne hath power to draw,
    290My subiect eyes from persing maiestie,
    To gaze on her with doting admiration.
    Count: In duetie lower then the ground I kneele,
    And for my dul knees bow my feeling heart,
    To witnes my obedience to your highnes,
    295With many millions of a subiects thanks.
    For this your Royall presence, whose approch,
    Hath driuen war and danger from my gate.
    K. Lady stand vp, I come to bring thee peace,
    How euer thereby I haue purchast war.
    300Co: No war to you my liege, the Scots are gone,
    And gallop home toward Scotland with their hate,
    Least yeelding heere, I pyne in shamefull loue:
    Come wele persue the Scots, Artoyes away.
    Co: A little while my gratious soueraigne stay,
    305And let the power of a mighty king
    Honor our roofe: my husband in the warres,
    When he shall heare it will triumph for ioy.
    Then deare my liege, now niggard not thy state,
    Being at the wall, enter our homely gate.
    310King. Pardon me countesse, I will come no neare,
    I dreamde to night of treason and I feare.
    Co: Far from this place let vgly treason ly.
    K: No farther off, then her conspyring eye,
    Which shoots infected poyson in my heart.
    315Beyond repulse of wit or cure of Art.
    Now in the Sunne alone it doth not lye,
    With light to take light, from a mortall eye.
    For here to day stars that myne eies would see,
    More then the Sunne steales myne owne light from mee:
    320Contemplatiue desire, desire to be,
    Incontemplation that may master thee.
    3 War-
    The Raigne of King
    Warwike, Artoys, to horse and lets away.
    Co: What might I speake to make my soueraigne stay?
    King: What needs a tongue to such a speaking eie,
    325That more perswads then winning Oratorie.
    Co: Let not thy presence like the Aprill sunne,
    Flatter our earth, and sodenly be done:
    More happie do not make our outward wall,
    Then thou wilt grace our inner house withall,
    330Our house my liege is like a Country swaine,
    Whose habit rude, and manners blunt and playne,
    Presageth nought, yet inly beautified,
    With bounties riches; and faire hidden pride:
    For where the golden Ore doth buried lie,
    335The ground vndect with natures tapestrie,
    Seemes barrayne, sere, vnfertill, fructles dry,
    And where the vpper turfe of earth doth boast,
    His pride perfumes, and party colloured cost,
    Delue there, and find this issue and their pride,
    340To spring from ordure, and corruptions side:
    But to make vp my all to long compare,
    These ragged walles no testomie are,
    What is within, but like a cloake doth hide,
    From weathers West, the vnder garnisht pride:
    345More gratious then my tearmes can let thee be,
    Intreat thy selfe to stay a while with mee.
    Kin: As wise as faire, what fond fit can be heard,
    When wisedome keepes the gate as beuties gard,
    Countesse, albeit my busines vrgeth me,
    350Yt shall attend, while I attend on thee:
    Come on my Lords, heere will I host to night. Exeunt.