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.
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 ! -
Such timid throngs, with multiplied dismay,
Would make confusion do the task of valour,
And work out their destruction.
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 our arms;
A throne usurp'd, your royal father's right;
A violated truce, a vile attempt
To filch 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! unhinge, destroy
Their very power of doing future wrongs:
So shall the rescued world 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 :-All 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
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.
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.
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
"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.
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!
I ne'er behold thy face, but pleasure springs
From the remembrance of those sprightly days,
Which led thro' early youth our happy friendship.
Thou wert my brother then; familiar ease
Season'd our sports, and doubled each delight.
Thither my soul, from ceremonious pomp,
"And all the heavy toils of high command,"
Oft backward looks, with wishes to renew
Those lively transports, unallay'd by care,
Our boundless happiness, our bursts of joy!
Arn. So honour'd, gracious prince, as I have been,
From humble fortune rais'd to envy'd greatness,
And still with ev'ry grace each gift made precious.
Oh, what are words in payment of such blessings !
What ev'n my life, were life itself laid down
In gratitude for such transcendent goodness!
Prince, If there's a transport tow'ring to divine;
If, in atonement for its load of cares,
One vast enjoyment is the gift of greatness,
'Tis that we can bestow where merit claims,
"And with our favours cheer or charm the soul."
Thine is the vacant military post,
By Mountford's death reverted to my gift;
And keep thy office in my houshold still;
I must not lose the servant in the soldier.
Be henceforth both, and what is more, my friend,
Arn. How shall I praise-
Prince. Arnold, I merit none.
If thou hast kindness done thee, I have pleasure.
There is no joy a genʼrous mind can know,
Like that of giving virtue its reward:
Nor ought such payment be esteem'd a bounty ;
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