Scene
II
Picardy. The English camp before Calais.
Enter King Edward and Derby, with Soldiers.
King Edward
Since they refuse our proffer’d league, my lord,
And will not ope their gates and let us in,
We will intrench ourselves on every side,
That neither victuals nor supply of men
May come to succour this accursed town;
Famine shall combat where our swords are stopp’d.
Derby
The promis’d aid that made them stand aloof
Is now retir’d and gone an other way;
It will repent them of their stubborn will.
Enter some poor Frenchmen.
But what are these poor ragged slaves, my lord?
King Edward
Ask what they are; it seems, they come from Calice.
Derby
You wretched patterns of despair and woe,
What are you? living men, or gliding ghosts,
Crept from your graves to walk upon the earth?
First Frenchman
No ghosts, my lord, but men that breathe a life
Far worse than is the quiet sleep of death:
We are distressed poor inhabitants
That long have been diseased, sick and lame;
And now, because we are not fit to serve,
The captain of the town hath thrust us forth
That so expense of victuals may be sav’d.
King Edward
A charitable deed, no doubt, and worthy praise.—
But how do you imagine then to speed?
We are your enemies; in such a case
We can no less but put ye to the sword,
Since, when we proffer’d truce, it was refus’d.
First Frenchman
An if your grace no otherwise vouchsafe,
As welcome death is unto us as life.
King Edward
Poor silly men, much wrong’d and more distress’d!—
Go, Derby, go, and see they be reliev’d;
Command that victuals be appointed them
And give to every one five crowns a-piece:—Exeunt Derby and Frenchmen.
The lion scorns to touch the yielding prey,
And Edward’s sword must flesh itself in such
As wilful stubbornness hath made perverse.—
Enter the Lord Percy, from England.
Lord Percy! welcome: what’s the news in England?
Percy
The queen, my lord, comes here to your grace;
And from her highness and the lord vicegerent
I bring this happy tidings of success:
David of Scotland, lately up in arms,
(Thinking, belike, he soonest should prevail,
Your highness being absent from the realm)
Is, by the fruitful service of your peers
And painful travel of the queen herself
That, big with child, was every day in arms,
Vanquish’d, subdu’d and taken prisoner.
King Edward
Thanks, Percy, for thy news, with all my heart!
What was he, took him prisoner in the field?
Percy
A squire, my lord; John Copland is his name:
Who since, entreated by her majesty,
Denies to make surrender of his prize
To any but unto your grace alone;
Whereat the queen is grievously displeas’d.
King Edward
Well, then we’ll have a pursuivant despatch’d
To summon Copland hither out of hand,
And with him he shall bring his prisoner king.
Percy
The queen’s, my lord, herself by this at sea,
And purposeth, as soon as wind will serve,
To land at Calice, and to visit you.
King Edward
She shall be welcome; and, to wait her coming
I’ll pitch my tent near to the sandy shore.
Enter a French Captain.
Captain
The burgesses of Calice, mighty king,
Have, by a council, willingly decreed
To yield the town and castle to your hands,
Upon condition it will please your grace
To grant them benefit of life and goods.
King Edward
They will so! then, belike, they may command,
Dispose, elect, and govern as they list.
No, sirrah, tell them, since they did refuse
Our princely clemency at first proclaim’d,
They shall not have it now, although they would;
I will accept of nought but fire and sword,
Except, within these two days, six of them,
That are the wealthiest merchants in the town,
Come naked, all but for their linen shirts,
With each a halter hang’d about his neck,
And prostrate yield themselves, upon their knees,
To be afflicted, hang’d, or what I please;
And so you may inform their masterships. Exeunt Edward and Percy.
Captain
Why, this it is to trust a broken staff.
Had we not been persuaded, John our king
Would with his army have reliev’d the town,
We had not stood upon defiance so.
But now ’tis past that no man can recall,
And better some do go to wrack, than all. Exit.