University of Virginia Library

THE FIRST ACT.

The first Scene is a magnificent Palace, King Edward the Third standing in the middle of the Theater, environ'd with his Nobility and Guards; the Lord Delaware presents the King a Letter which when he has read, the King sayes;
King.
Brave Delaware, my Son doth let me know
How much my Empire to thy Sword does owe;
What, generous Youth, could more thy Fame advance
Then with thy hand to take King John of France.

Dela.
Sir, What you say, more Fame to me does yield
Then I could gain in Poictiers glorious Field;
For 'tis more honour to be prais'd by You
Then 'tis another Monarch to subdue.

King.
No Subject winning Glory can admit
Such Joy, as does his King rewarding it:
The Chape of that Kings Sword whom thou didst take
The Crest for ever of thy Armes shall make;
In that addition to them shall be shown,
While the World lasts, the honour thou hast won:
To thee thy General leaves it to relate
The English Glory and the Frenchmens Fate.

Dela.
As soon, Sir, as the Prince to Bourdeaux came
(So much doth Glory his great Soul inflame)
He took the Field, and did forthwith regain
All that King John possess'd in Aquitaine;
Then with like speed Anjou he did subdue,
And all his Towns, but Poictiers, of Poitou;
That place alone his Forces durst oppose.
Guesclin the Gallantest of all our foes
Poictiers did for their Governour admit,
And he a while bravely defended it,
Yet our Success was but a while deny'd,
That by a greater it might be supply'd;
For Heav'n decreed, that Poictiers, Sir, should yield
As deathless Wreaths to you as Cressy Field;
The noblest Wreaths which ever Victor wore
Wreaths which shall last when Time shall be no more.

King.
But tell me how King John employ'd his time,
While those three Provinces were torn from him.

Dela.
He, the mean while, rais'd all the Powers of France,
And to relieve the City did advance.
The Prince had notice of a strength so great,
And timely might have made a fair retreat;
Yet since before the place he once did lie,
He was resolv'd to take it, or to die:
From this resolve he could not, Sir, be won.

King.
He did therein, but what became my Son;
No humane force could ever yet subdue
An English Prince, and English Army too.

Dela.
The French appear, and Poictiers spacious plain
Was not enough their Army to contain;
Th'advantages of ground our General takes,
And plants before his Squadrons sharp'ned Stakes;
With the like Art, but yet in thicker Ranks,
He strongly fortify'd his Rear and Flanks.
The Word was giv'n, and all our Bows were bent,
When a French Herauld to the Prince was sent,
Who told him that his King had thought it good,
To avoid the shedding of much Christian blood,
To let him know he could not win the Field,
And all should have fair quarter, would He yield:
The Prince unmov'd did instantly reply,
None does deserve to live who fears to die:
Go tell your King, those English I command
The name of Quarter hardly understand;
But that, ere night, he may have cause to know,
What we refuse to take we may bestow.

King.
This answer did the message well befit.

Dela.
The Herauld, Sir, return'd amaz'd at it,
Their odds in number rais'd them to that height,
They thought they came to take us, not to fight.

King.
How many were the French?

Dela.
—Themselves confess'd,
That eighty Thousand men they were at least.

King.
What was my Son?

Dela.
—The truth I do not wrong,
Protesting he was but eight Thousand strong;
But those eight Thousand, Sir, were English men.

King.
And One of those may well be reckon'd Ten.

Dela.
Sir, since your Army by your Son was led,
We all did then believe what now you said;
For in his eyes we our Success did see,
His looks did ante-date our Victory.
His face, that morning, to us all did show
Those Lawrels, which that ev'ning Crown'd his Brow;
Now all the Drums do beat, the Trumpets sound,
The Soldiers shout the trembling Air does wound,
The flying Arrows such thick clouds had made,
As ev'n the heat of Fight produc'd a shade:
Our Van brave Oxford and great Talbot lead,
Whose Swords, that day, did much increase the Dead:
Suffolk and Warwick did command our Rear,
And there deserv'd those Titles which they bear;
So did Audley, Sir, and Barkley too,
Whom all did imitate but none outdo.

King.
The like at Cressy by those Six was done,
Danger they slight where Glory may be won.

Dela.
Fortune, a while, did fear to ruine France,
But when the Prince his battle did advance,
He courted her with Valour so Sublime,
As she turn'd just, and did declare for him;
They in three Armies did divide their Pow'rs,
And every one of them did treble ours;
By which our Prince found, when the day was done,
That he had fought Three battels to gain One:
So many heaps of Frenchmen there were slain,
As into Hills they seem'd to change the Plain;
And all those Clouds, their Horses feet had made,
Were with the Blood of their dead Riders laid:
Two Lords arm'd like King John were in the Field,
And by our Princes hand they both were kill'd;
In doing which he did prodigious things,
For though they were Not, yet they fought like Kings,
While in the Field wars bloody Game was plaid,
Guesclin did sally, and was Prisoner made.

King.
In your Relation you omit one thing
I fain would hear, 'tis, how you took the King.

Dela.
Sir, In the heat of Battel 'twas my chance
To fight with, and to take King John of France;
'Twas Fortune onely favour'd me in this.

King.
Your Modesty great as your Valour is,
For here my Son to me at large does write
The Honour which you purchas'd in the Fight.
And all those brave Attempts which you did make,
Before your Royal Prisoner you did take;
Nothing which you perform'd from me is hid

Dela.
He writes what I'de have Done, not what I Did:
When the French King into my pow'r did fall,
I did conduct him to our General,
Who then was giving of Rewards to those
Who took two hundred Colours from your Foes;
Amidst those Glorious Trophies, Sir, he stood,
His Armour cover'd all with dust and blood;
Those sights afresh the Captive King did wound.

King.
None in a Nobler Posture could be found.

Dela.
When to the Prince I nam'd King John of France,
He hastily to meet him did advance,
And to his Prisoner did as humbly bow,
As, Sir, he could have done, had it been You.

King.
He did therein what did a Prince befit,
Fierce in the Fight and Humble after it.

Dela.
The King then said, since Fortune does decree,
I should be taken by my Enemy;
Part of the wounds she gives, she also cures,
Since now I fall into such hands as Yours;
I am your Prisoner, Sir, and come to know
The end you aim at by my being so,
The Prince, in whom all Vertues do reside,
Pitying the Kings misfortune, thus reply'd;
That, mighty Prince, to which I most pretend
Is, from an Enemy you'll turn a Friend:
And if you'll grant what now is begg'd by me,
I'le prize it more then this dayes Victory.
These words the Prince with such an Accent grac'd,
As by the King he closely was embrac'd,
Who told him, in this Action you have shown,
You have more ways to Conquer me then one,
And, Sir, to prove this does my Mind subdue;
That which you ask of Me I beg of You.

King.
This last Success transcends the other Three:
'Tis more to Gain then Beat an Enemy.

Dela.
All things to tell you too much time would take,
But then so strict a Friendship they did make,
As Our Prince vow'd he would sollicit you
To grant the King a Peace and Freedom too;
Then by a Liberality Sublime,
He did that night at sopper wait on Him:
By which that Vanquish'd Monarch well might boast,
He there Receiv'd more Honour then he Lost.

King.
My Son in this did such High Worth express,
As I more value It then his Success.

Dela.
The List of all those Pris'ners which we took
Are by the Prince presented in this Book;
[Gives the King a Book.
All things secur'd which we had won by force,
He with King John, for England steer'd his course.
The wind so favour'd him, as yesterday
He safely landed in Southampton-Bay,
From whence he sent me Post to let you know
They both tomorrow, Sir, will wait on you.

King.
For their Reception every thing prepare
Which may your joys and your Respects declare.
I'le treat this Royal Pris'ner at a rate
Proportion'd to his Title, not his Fate.
My Actions, not my Words, shall let you see,
How much, brave Youth, You are esteem'd by Me.

[Exeunt.
The Scene is a Garden and a Grotta, in which Alizia Peirce lies as in a slumber. Enter Sevina, who playes upon the Lute, when she has done, Alizia rises, embraces her, and sayes;
Aliz.
Ah my dear Friend; it is in vain you strive
To give that Ease which onely Death can give.

Sev.
This is the day you promis'd I should know
That Fatal Sorrow under which You bow.
I thought the Charms of Musick might abate
The Grief which springs from what you will relate.

Aliz.
Too mean a thought you of my Grief admit,
In thinking anything can Lessen it.
Who would not all delights of Life decline
That had a Soul so out of Tune as Mine?

Sev.
Do not from such a Friend your self refrain,
My Help may put your Soul in Tune again:
'Tis to your Promise, Madam, that I trust,
Let not your Sorrow make you prove Unjust.
If Grief should make you to such Wrong submit,
You will Deserve as well as Suffer it.

Eliz.
My Fatal Promise why do you pursue;
Though Old Griefs, when related, turn to New,
Yet you no longer shall of me complain,
I'le rather Heighten then Deserve my Pain.
You know, Dear Friend, when to this Court I came,
My Eyes did all our bravest youths Inflame:
And in that happy state I liv'd a while,
When Fortune did betray me with a smile;
Or rather Love against my Peace did fight;
And, to revenge his Power which I did slight,
Made Edward our Victorious Monarch be,
One of those Many who did Sigh for Me.
All other Flames but His I did deride,
They rather made my Trouble than my Pride:
But this, when told me, made me quickly know,
Love is a God to which all Hearts must bow.

Sev.
'Tis certain every Creature that hath Breath
Is no more priviledg'd from Love than Death:
Think you what is your Duty is your Crime,
Or else do you repent you Conquer'd Him?

Aliz.
Oh had you heard, in what a moving way
He the first time his Passion did display,
And had you seen that Grief and matchless Grace
Which did at once Cloud and Adorn his Face;
You had admir'd such Differing Charmes to see,
But more admir'd had they not Conquer'd Me.

Sev.
I was your Confident in that Bright Fire
Which Both did in each others breast Inspire:
A Fire might teach all Lovers how to Burn,
Then sure 'tis something else which makes you Mourn.

Aliz.
Oh if he had been still to that Bright Flame
As Faithful, and as Constant as I am;
Justice her self, no Fire could higher prize,
But that Blest Fire in which the Martyr Dies.
But he is False—

Sev.
—If what you say were true,
Madam, my Friendship must have seen it too;
'Tis Jealousie which has usurp'd Love's place.

Aliz.
Love has more piercing eyes then Friendship has;
From the Suns sight you may the World remove,
Sooner than hide from Lovers change in Love:
His Glorious Flame for me in Clouds is set,
And he Adores the fair Plantagenet;
To that Bright Widow he his Heart does yield.

Sev.
Alas since her Brave Lord in France was kill'd,
She onely doth the Pow'r of Grief obey.

Aliz.
How soon does Love wipe sorrows Tears away,
Shee's Courted by a Monarch whose Renown
Does make him greater much then does his Crown:
To Conquer All he has resistless Pow'rs;
His Sword subdues His Sex, his Vertues Ours.

Sev.
Then let his Virtue which you so much Prize
Suppress your Jealousie and dry your Eyes;
Virtue so Firm as nothing can Remove.

Aliz.
Virtue is nothing but a Name in Love,
What cannot Love, when he is Victor, do?
Which makes men think their Change their Virtue too.

Sev.
With equal Flames the King your Flames did meet,
And daily breath'd his Passion at your feet:
Myrtles, when giv'n by You, were Dearer held
Than all those Lawrells Vanquish'd France did yield.
He went with Grief that Empire to subdue,
Hating what ever sever'd him from You.

Aliz.
I see his Change in spight of all his Art,
He suffers not, but plays the Lovers part.

Sev.
Let not such Thoughts be entertain'd by you,
He Courts you now more then he us'd to do.

Aliz.
This does the Truth of what I said detect,
His Passion now is chang'd into Respect;
And Love which once was High, and is decay'd,
Like the Sun setting, casts the greater shade.
From all his sacred Vows he does depart,
'Tis False Love onely needs the help of Art.

Sev.
Such Doubts his Constancy may Over-throw,
Who Thinks him False provokes him to Be so;
Did you to him your cause of Grief unfold?

Aliz.
'Twould not deserve that Name, could it be told;
She meanly Loves who slighted can admit,
Ought but her death should tell her Lover.

Sev.
No wonder Grief thus in your Breast does Reign,
When you from your Physician hide your Pain;
Let Him but hear from whence your Sorrow grows.

Aliz.
'Tis lowe, and vain to tell him what he knows.

Sev.
Then I will tell it him, and he will fly
Faster to You, than to a Victory;
And quickly learn to clear his Fancy'd Fault.

Aliz.
A Perfect Lover needs not to be taught,
And if he were with Loves true Passion Fir'd,
He would not need to Learn, hee'd be Inspir'd.

Sev.
At my request ease your distemper'd Mind,
And on my life you suddenly shall find,
To think him faulty is to think Amiss.

Aliz.
He is too Guilty, since I think he is.

[Exeunt several wayes.
Enter Cleorin and Delaware.
Cleo.
I hop'd your absence (now three years compleat)
Had cur'd your Passion for Plantagenet,
And you would Fame to hopeless Love prefer.

Dela.
I courted Fame but more to merit Her,
Since I durst Love, not having Fame atchiev'd,
Since I Ador'd her while her Husband liv'd,
Now that the Noble Kent three years is dead,
Now that with Lawrel War has Crown'd my Head,
How can you be, dear Sister, so unwise,
To think that Love can fall while Hope does rise?

Cleo.
You know, Dear Brother, onely for your sake
That I three years incessant care did take,
To make my self your Conquerours Confident;
But though I have accomplish'd my Intent,
Yet all I Gain'd by it, is to believe
She never your Addresses will Receive;
For since she lost her Lord the Noble Kent,
She thinks all time not paid to Grief mispent.

Dela.
In what you say much cause of Hope I find,
Since Grief th'unwelcom'st Passion of the Mind
She does admit within her to Reside,
Love the most welcome cannot be Deny'd.

Cleo.
Do not your Hopes with such wild Fancies feed,
Her's is a Grief which does from Love proceed;
You by your Passion strangely are mis-led.

Dela
Is it then possible to Love the Dead?
We but to those Alive can Love express,
For when the Cause does die, the Effect must cease.

Cleo.
Your own strange Fate opposes what you said,
Your Love does Live and yet your hope is Dead.

Dela.
Since Love has over her Triumphant been,
My Flame is such, to doubt Success were Sin.

Cleo.
Nothing from Sorrow can her Soul remove,
And Grief is still an Enemy to Love;
But were her Grief subdu'd, yet I must say
A greater hind'rance does obstruct your way;
In the King's Heart a growing Flame does rise,
Which he discovers by his Sighs and Eyes;
He is the greatest Monarch of the Earth,
And greater by his Actions then his Birth.

Dela.
Had I her heart, his Titles would not sway,
In Loves just ballance onely Love does weigh.

Cleo.
The Nature of our Sex I'le not disguise,
Our Servants Loves less than their Pow'rs we prise;
For but in Name alone their Hearts are ours,
But we effectually do share their Pow'rs.

Dela.
Yet Love would tell her, 'tis a greater thing
To Conquer, then it is to be a King.

Cleo.
There's something else which makes my Care more great
Then all which I to you have mention'd yet,
You know the Prince of Wales did once appear
Your Conquerours Lover, and was lov'd by her,
And he to wed her gain'd the Kings Consent;
But unexpectedly she married Kent:
I often prest the Cause she would reveal,
Yet she the secret does from me conceal;
But though she on the Prince does lay the Blame
Yet she will weep when she but hears his Name.
A thousand other Proofs do make me doubt
That Fire is onely cover'd not put out.

Dela.
Ah Cleorin, there's none but I alive
Of that Strange Marriage an account can give:
You know when to the Wars of France I went
I made a Friendship with the Earl of Kent,
Which in short time did grow so strong and high,
As when he found he of his Wounds should die,
He to strict silence first did me Engage,
Then told me how he gain'd his Marriage,
Which is so strange a story, I dare swear
She never can love him, nor he love her.

Cleo.
I will not beg you then to tell me why,
Since you have ty'd your self to secresie:
Brother, I now must leave you, for you know
Our King does on King John a Masque bestow,
To which he did Plantagenet invite,
And thither I must wait on her to night.

Dela.
Ah since you must be gone, yet e're you go
Let me at least what I may hope for know.

Cleo.
The highest joy to which you can pretend,
Is, that your Mistress you may make your Friend.

Dela.
If She does Friendship and not Love bestow,
At once she'll make me blest, and wretched too.

Cleo.
She'll meet your Friendship, but your Love she'll shun;
Despair must do what Reason should have done.

Dela.
This is a cruelty she should abhorre,
She should not do so much, or should do more.

[Exeunt several wayes.
Enter the King, Alizia, and Sevina. Alizia's Chamber.
King.
While your Suspition to such height does rise,
You wrong at once my Passion and your Eyes:
Ah Madam, be no longer so unkind,
Since you to think me False must think me Blind;
How can you doubt of any change in me,
When such fair Eyes are your Security.

Aliz.
Ah do not, Sir, condemn what I have done,
To doubt your Love does more declare my own:
'Tis Love, not Jealousie which I detect,
Then for the causes sake excuse th'effect.

King.
Madam, there is but one degree you know
'Twixt doubting I am false and thinking so.

Aliz.
To you no clearer Proof, Sir, I can give
I think you are not false, then that I live;
For did I doubt you guilty of that wrong
My death should tell it you, and not my tongue.

King.
The pow'r of Kindness, Madam, you confound,
Making your Love the Sword with which you wound;
If from this day my Ruine you will date,
Then by some other Weapon act my fate;
Your Anger Misery enough does prove
Without ascribing of it to your Love.
'Twere better far I fell by your Disdain
Then have your Love my blessing turn my Pain.

Aliz.
What I have said too warmly you pursue.

King.
How can you love him whom you think untrue?
Admire not what you said so much does move,
Since if you think me false I lose your love;
Against such groundless Fear there's no defence.

Aliz.
Love feels no greater Torment then Suspense,
Since she who truly Loves had rather know
Her Lover false, than always think him so;
For 'tis an ill more sensible and high
To Live tormented still, then 'tis to Die:
But you may end those Torments I deplore,
If you will never see my Rival more.

King.
This is a Remedy severe and new,
Rudeness to her must Kindness be to you;
And of my Love can you no proof admit
But what will make me for your Love unfit?

Aliz.
Ah were I Blest or Curst to such degree
As that you thought some other lov'd by Me,
I would for ever from his sight be gone
And would in your contentment find my own;
Were your Affections but for me as great
Then you no more would see Plantagenet.

King.
She is the nearest Kinswoman I have,
Her Lord too in my Service found his Grave;
Nature and Honour these respects approve
And make that Duty which you doubt is Love.

Aliz.
Alas were you not chang'd, you would not be
Civil to her, rather than kind to me.

King.
Will this your Fatal Jealousie remove?
I swear I never spake to her of Love.

Aliz.
Love is not alwayes by Discourse made known,
It may be spoken in a Look or Groan;
Some in those wayes more Passion can dispense
Then others by the Charms of Eloquence;
Your Oath I fear is dictated by Art,
Your Tongue is innocent, but not your Heart.

King.
This, Madam, too much your unkindness shows,
You neither will believe my Love nor Vows.

Aliz.
Do not admire my Doubts and Fears are high
When you that easie cure of them deny;
I saw you gaze on her, much more then you
Did gaze on me when I did know you true;
Which to my Torment, Sir, does let me see
You lov'd Me not, or lov'd Her more then Me;
Man's Art to such a height could never rise
As love from a true Lover to disguise;
Oh Sir, it is high time I let you know
Though Love is blind, yet Lovers are not so.

King.
He never yet the height of Love has known
Who onely told it in a Look or Groan;
When I to you that Passion did express
Which, Madam, onely with my Life shall cease:
Though many Looks and Sighs to you I sent,
Yet by Discourse too I did give it vent;
If through all passages it does not press,
It soon will kill the heart it does possess:
Love is so vast a Passion, as the breast
Is much too small to hold so great a Guest.

Aliz.
Great Love is like great Grief, and all, Sir, hold
That Grief is weak or small which can be told.

Enter Lord Latymer, who whispers to the King.
King.
Madam, A pressing business calls me now,
Be therefore satisfied with this strict Vow;
My carriage to Plantagenet shall be
Such as shall make you grant you've injur'd me.

[Exeunt King and Lord Latymer.
Aliz.
Now my Sevina, think you not that I
Had a sufficient ground for Jealousie.

Sev.
Madam you had, but give me leave to say
You to suppress it took a hopeless way.

Aliz.
To what way else could I have had recourse.

Sev.
A Lover never was brought back by force;
But since he raises Jealousie in you,
Madam, resolve to make him Jealous too:
You by a double Right must gain his Heart,
First owe it to your Beauty, then your Art:
Love is like Health which all men value most,
Not while it is possest, but when 'tis lost.

Aliz.
I'le rather bear Misfortunes worst Assault
Then owe my blessing to a seeming Fault;
If what you now propose I should approve,
Virtue would blush at my Success in Love;
Honour alone shall guide my Actions still,
Rather than I will do, I'le suffer Ill:
My Rival nor the King shall ever say
To gain my Right I took a guilty way;
She has the Happier, I the Nobler part,
She may Possess, but I'le Deserve his Heart.

Exeunt.