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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    Edward the third.
    No no ye cannot ouerreach vs thus,
    Two: The Sun dread Lord that in the western fall,
    Beholds vs now low brought through miserie,
    2380Did in the Orient purple of the morne,
    Salute our comming forth when we were knowne
    Or may our portion be with damned fiends,
    Ki: If it be so, then let our couenant stand,
    We take possession of the towne in peace,
    2385But for your selues looke you for no remorse,
    But as imperiall iustice hath decreed,
    Your bodies shalbe dragd about these wals,
    And after feele the stroake of quartering steele,
    This is your dome, go souldiets see it done.
    2390Qu: Ah be more milde vnto these yeelding men,
    It is a glorious thing to stablish peace,
    And kings approch the nearest vnto God,
    By giuing life and safety vnto men,
    As thou intendest to be king of Fraunce,
    2395So let her people liue to call thee king,
    For what the sword cuts down or fire hath spoyld
    Is held in reputation none of ours.
    Ki: Although experience teach vs, this is true,
    That peacefull quietnes brings most delight,
    2400When most of all abuses are controld,
    Yet insomuch, it shalbe knowne that we,
    Aswell can master our affections,
    As conquer other by the dynt of sword,
    Phillip preuaile, we yeeld to thy request,
    2405These men shall liue to boast of clemencie,
    And tyrannie strike terror to thy selfe.
    Two: long liue your highnes, happy be your reigne
    Ki: Go get you hence, returne vnto the towne,
    And if this kindnes hath deserud your loue,
    2410Learne then to reuerence Edw. as your king. Ex.
    Now might we heare of our affaires abroad,
    We would till glomy Winter were ore spent,
    Dispose our men in garrison a while,
    But who comes heere?
    Enter