EDWARD

THE

BLACK PRINCE.

ACT 1. SCENE I.

The PRINCE of WALES's Tent. Prince EDWARD discovered seated, WARWICK, SALISBURY, AUDLEY, CHANDOS, and others standing.

Prince.

My lords, I summon'd ye in haste to council;
Intelligence is brought me that our foes
Have levied to oppose us, such a strength
As almost staggers credibility!

What's to be done? To tarry longer here,
And brave their fury in the heart of France,
Would be a rashness that may hazard all.
Consider therefore well, my fellow-warriors,
And aid my judgment with your good advice.
Speak, Warwick, your opinion.

War. Royal sir,

It is for marching back, with speed, to Bourdeaux.

B

Our little army, harrass'd with fatigue,

And heavy-laden with the spoils of war,

Should, like the careful bees, ere storms o'ertake us,
Secure our treasures and prepare for rest.
Havoc has wanton'd in our hard campaign,
And manly daring won increase of glory:
Then let not now presumption madly risque
Reprisals from such force. Be timely prudent:
The voice of wisdom urges our retreat,
Obey it, and be happy.

Aud. Shameful thought!

What, spirit dastards by inglorious flight?
No; never let it, mighty prince, be said
That we, who, two succeeding summers, chac'd
From shore to shore of their extensive realm
Collected armies, doubling each our own!
Should here at length discover abject fear,
And skulk for coward safety. What are numbers ?
Let all their kingdom's millions arm at once,
And crowding, clust'ring, cram the field of fight I
Such timid throngs, with multiplied dismay,
Would make confusion do the task of valour,
And work out their destruction.

Sal. Audley's thoughts

Accord with mine. While Salisbury has breath, His tongue shall hurl defiance at their force. Remember, princely Edward, Cressy's field; Remember every battle we have fought,

How much out-counted, yet how greatly victors! Loud were the calls that broke our sleep of peace,

And bade us rouze and buckle on cur arms;
A throne usurp ́d, your royal father's right;
A violated truce, a vie attempt

To fich away the fruits of painful conquest,
By basely bribing servants from their duty.
Assaults so infamous, such rank dishonour,
At last awoke our monarch's high resentment:
O give it glorious scope) u hinge, destroy
Their very power of doing future wrongs:
So shall the rescued werid pour forth its blessings,
And kings and kingdoms thank our arm for safety.
Chand. If Chandos give his voice for our retreat,
'Tis not from coward motives :-A'l can witness
I have met danger with as firm a spirit

As any in our host. But as success

Hath crown'd our arms with ample spoils and glory,
Why, when the season is so far advanc'd,
(Hopeless of profit) should we longer stay,
By soothing pride, to brave adversity?
Consider, gracious prince, and you, my lords,
What difficulties clog a winter's march
In hostile countries; parties harrassing,
And want of all convenience and supplies.

I do confess, the wrongs that urg'd us hither
Were such as merited severe revenge :

And vengeance we have had. Their burning towns
Have lighted us on many a midnight march,
While shrieks and groans, and yellings echo'd round.
Fear and confusion were our harbingers,

And death and desolation our attendants.

"Such have their suff'rings been thro' two campaigns, "And that a third may rise with added horrors, "And carry indignation to his goal,"

Now homeward let us look; and wisely there

Recruit, in time, our vigour and our numbers:
Thence, with the chearful spring to issue forth,
Again to labour in the field of fame.

Prince. True wisdom, Chandos, dictates to your

tongue,

And modest, manly eloquence adorns it.
My lords of Salisbury and Audley, you,
Who cherish truth and candour in your minds,
Must yield to arguments so clear and strong.
Believe me, friends and brothers of the war,
A momentary ruin may involve us :

Such mighty hosts are rais'd, and now in motion,
As well will task our utmost skill to 'scape.
Upon the plains of Poitiers are encamp'd,

Th' extensive plains that our retreat must skirt,
An army double ours!

Aud. And shall we pass ?

Go tamely by And give them cause for vaunting, That Englishmen avoided once a battle?

No; never let us merit such a stain ;

But boldly seek them, dare their double numbers, And drive them, if a combat they decline,

To skip and wanton at a safer distance.

Sal. Give us, my prince, the pleasure but to spring This gaudy flight of prating popinjays,

And we'll retire contented.

Chand. There my voice

Shall join ye, lords; to force them from their home At such a juncture, will be doubly glorious ! Or should they venture battle, their discomfit Will render our retreat to Bourdeaux safe, And end our labours with a noble triumph. Prince. Then be it so: for Poitiers we'll prepare. [Rising. Give instant orders, good my lords, for marching: To-morrow's sun shall see us face our foes. "There, if they wait our coming, we once more "Will dress contention in her gorgon horrors: "Drive fear and slaughter thro' their shuddʼring

ranks,

"Stalk o'er their mangled heaps, and, bath'd in blood, "Seize with red hands the wreath of victory!"

Here break we off; go each where duty calls.

[Exeunt Lords.

Now for an office is most grateful to me.
Who waits-Let Arnold know that I expect him.
[A Gentleman appears, and retires again.
How poor the pomps and trophies of the field,
The blaze of splendor, or that bubble, praise,
Compar'd with what the sympathizing heart
Feels from a gen'rous action!

Welcome, Arnold.

Enter ARNOLD.

I ne'er behold thy face, but pleasure springs
From the remembrance of those sprightly days,