The earth,with giddy trembling when it shakes,Or when the exhalations of the air Breaks in extremity of lightning flash,Affrights not more than kings,when they dispose To shew the rancor of their high swollen hearts.
[Retreat.]
Retreat is sounded;one side hath the worse;
O,if it be the French,sweet fortune,turn;
And,in thy turning,change the forward winds,That,with advantage of a favoring sky,Our men may vanquish,and the other fly!
[Enter Mariner.]
My heart misgives:--say,mirror of pale death,To whom belongs the honor of this day?
Relate,I pray thee,if thy breath will serve,The sad discourse of this discomfiture.
MARINER.
I will,my Lord.
My gracious sovereign,Franch hath ta'en the foil,And boasting Edward triumphs with success.
These Iron hearted Navies,When last I was reporter to your grace,Both full of angry spleen,of hope,and fear,Hasting to meet each other in the face,At last conjoined;and by their Admiral Our Admiral encountered many shot:
By this,the other,that beheld these twain Give earnest penny of a further wrack,Like fiery Dragons took their haughty flight;And,likewise meeting,from their smoky wombs Sent many grim Ambassadors of death.
Then gan the day to turn to gloomy night,And darkness did as well enclose the quick As those that were but newly reft of life.
No leisure served for friends to bid farewell;And,if it had,the hideous noise was such,As each to other seemed deaf and dumb.
Purple the Sea,whose channel filled as fast With streaming gore,that from the maimed fell,As did her gushing moisture break into The crannied cleftures of the through shot planks.
Here flew a head,dissevered from the trunk,There mangled arms and legs were tossed aloft,As when a whirl wind takes the Summer dust And scatters it in middle of the air.
Then might ye see the reeling vessels split,And tottering sink into the ruthless flood,Until their lofty tops were seen no more.
All shifts were tried,both for defence and hurt:
And now the effect of valor and of force,Of resolution and of cowardice,We lively pictures;how the one for fame,The other by compulsion laid about;Much did the Nonpareille,that brave ship;
So did the black snake of Bullen,then which A bonnier vessel never yet spread sail.
But all in vain;both Sun,the Wind and tide,Revolted all unto our foe men's side,That we perforce were fain to give them way,And they are landed.--Thus my tale is done:
We have untimely lost,and they have won.
KING JOHN.
Then rests there nothing,but with present speed To join our several forces all in one,And bid them battle,ere they range too far.
Come,gentle Phillip,let us hence depart;
This soldier's words have pierced thy father's heart.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II.Picardy.Fields near Cressi.
[Enter two French men;a woman and two little Children meet them,and other Citizens.]
ONE.
Well met,my masters:how now?what's the news?
And wherefore are ye laden thus with stuff?
What,is it quarter day that you remove,And carry bag and baggage too?
TWO.
Quarter day?Aye,and quartering day,I fear:
Have ye not heard the news that flies abroad?
ONE.
What news?
THREE.
How the French Navy is destroyed at Sea,And that the English Army is arrived.
ONE.
What then?
TWO.
What then,quoth you?why,ist not time to fly,When envy and destruction is so nigh?
ONE.
Content thee,man;they are far enough from hence,And will be met,I warrant ye,to their cost,Before they break so far into the Realm.
TWO.
Aye,so the Grasshopper doth spend the time In mirthful jollity,till Winter come;And then too late he would redeem his time,When frozen cold hath nipped his careless head.
He,that no sooner will provide a Cloak,Then when he sees it doth begin to reign,May,peradventure,for his negligence,Be throughly washed,when he suspects it not.
We that have charge and such a train as this,Must look in time to look for them and us,Least,when we would,we cannot be relieved.
ONE.
Belike,you then despair of all success,And think your Country will be subjugate.
THREE.
We cannot tell;tis good to fear the worst.
ONE.
Yet rather fight,then,like unnatural sons,Forsake your loving parents in distress.
TWO.
Tush,they that have already taken arms Are many fearful millions in respect Of that small handful of our enemies;But tis a rightful quarrel must prevail;
Edward is son unto our late king's sister,When John Valois is three degrees removed.
WOMAN.
Besides,there goes a Prophesy abroad,Published by one that was a Friar once,Whose Oracles have many times proved true;And now he says,the time will shortly come,When as a Lyon,roused in the west,Shall carry hence the fluerdeluce of France:
These,I can tell ye,and such like surmises Strike many French men cold unto the heart.
[Enter a French man.]
FOUR.
Fly,country men and citizens of France!
Sweet flowering peace,the root of happy life,Is quite abandoned and expulst the land;In stead of whom ransacked constraining war Sits like to Ravens upon your houses'tops;Slaughter and mischief walk within your streets,And,unrestrained,make havoc as they pass;The form whereof even now my self beheld Upon this fair mountain whence I came.
For so far of as I directed mine eyes,I might perceive five Cities all on fire,Corn fields and vineyards,burning like an oven;And,as the reaking vapour in the wind Turned but aside,I like wise might discern The poor inhabitants,escaped the flame,Fall numberless upon the soldiers'pikes.
Three ways these dreadful ministers of wrath Do tread the measures of their tragic march:
Upon the right hand comes the conquering King,Upon the left his hot unbridled son,And in the midst our nation's glittering host,All which,though distant yet,conspire in one,To leave a desolation where they come.
Fly therefore,Citizens,if you be wise,Seek out some habitation further off:
Here is you stay,your wives will be abused,Your treasure shared before your weeping eyes;Shelter you your selves,for now the storm doth rise.