Edward III - William Shakespeare (best mobile ebook reader TXT) 📗

see in him delineate
His mother’s visage; those his eyes are hers,
Who looking wistly on me make me blush;
For faults against themselves give evidence:
Lust is a fire; and men, like lanthorns, show
Light lust within themselves, even through themselves.
Away, loose silks of wavering vanity!
Shall the large limit of fair Brittany
By me be overthrown? and shall I not
Master this little mansion of myself?
Give me an armour of eternal steel;
I go to conquer kings; and shall I then
Subdue myself and be my enemy’s friend?
It must not be.⁠—Come, boy, forward, advance!
Let’s with our colours sweet the air of France. Lodwick

My liege, the countess with a smiling cheer
Desires access unto your majesty. Advancing from the door, and whispering to him.

King Edward

Why, there it goes! that very smile of hers
Hath ransom’d captive France, and set the king,
The Dauphin, and the peers, at liberty.⁠—
Go, leave me, Ned, and revel with thy friends. Exit Prince.
Thy mother is but black; and thou, like her,
Dost put into my mind how foul she is.⁠—
Go, fetch the countess hither in thy hand
And let her chase away these winter clouds;
For she gives beauty both to heaven and earth. Exit Lodwick.
The sin is more to hack and hew poor men,
Than to embrace in an unlawful bed
The register of all rarieties
Since leathern Adam till this youngest hour.

Re-enter Lodwick, with the Countess.

Go, Lodwick, put thy hand into my purse,
Play, spend, give, riot, waste; do what thou wilt,
So thou wilt hence a while and leave me here. Exit Lodwick.
Now, my soul’s playfellow! art thou come,
To speak the more than heavenly word of yea
To my objection in thy beauteous love?

Countess My father on his blessing hath commanded⁠— King Edward That thou shalt yield to me? Countess Ay, dear my liege, your due. King Edward

And that, my dearest love, can be no less
Than right for right and tender love for love.

Countess

Than wrong for wrong and endless hate for hate.
But⁠—sith I see your majesty so bent,
That my unwillingness, my husband’s love,
Your high estate, nor no respect respected
Can be my help, but that your mightiness
Will overbear and awe these dear regards⁠—
I bind my discontent to my content,
And what I would not, I’ll compel I will;
Provided that yourself remove those lets
That stand between your highness’ love and mine.

King Edward Name them, fair countess, and, by Heaven, I will. Countess

It is their lives, that stand between our love,
That I would have chok’d up, my sovereign.

King Edward Whose lives, my lady? Countess

My thrice-loving liege,
Your queen, and Salisbury my wedded husband;
Who living have that title in our love
That we can not bestow but by their death.

King Edward Thy opposition is beyond our Law. Countess

So is your desire: if the law
Can hinder you to execute the one,
Let it forbid you to attempt the other:
I cannot think you love me as you say
Unless you do make good what you have sworn.

King Edward

No more; thy husband and the queen shall die.
Fairer thou art by far than Hero was;
Beardless Leander not so strong as I:
He swum an easy current for his love;
But I will through a Hellespont of blood
To arrive at Sestos where my Hero lies.

Countess

Nay, you’ll do more; you’ll make the river, too,
With their heart-bloods that keep our love asunder,
Of which my husband and your wife are twain.

King Edward

Thy beauty makes them guilty of their death
And gives in evidence that they shall die;
Upon which verdict, I, their judge, condemn them.

Countess

O perjur’d beauty! more corrupted judge!
When to the great star-chamber o’er our heads
The universal sessions calls to count
This packing evil, we both shall tremble for it.

King Edward What says my fair love? is she resolute? Countess

Resolv’d to be dissolv’d; and, therefore, this⁠—
Keep but thy word, great king, and I am thine.
Stand where thou dost, I’ll part a little from thee,
And see how I will yield me to thy hands. Turning suddenly upon him, and showing two daggers.
Here by my side doth hang my wedding knifes:
Take thou the one and with it kill thy queen
And learn by me to find her where she lies;
And with this other I’ll dispatch my love,
Which now lies fast asleep within my heart:
When they are gone, then I’ll consent to love.
Stir not, lascivious king, to hinder me;
My resolution is more nimbler far
Than thy prevention can be in my rescue,
And, if thou stir, I strike: therefore stand still,
And hear the choice that I will put thee to:
Either swear to leave thy most unholy suit,
And never henceforth to solicit me;
Or else, by Heaven, kneeling this sharp-pointed knife
Shall stain thy earth with that which thou wouldst stain,
My poor chaste blood. Swear, Edward, swear,
Or I will strike and die before thee here.

King Edward

Even by that Power I swear, that gives me now
The power to be ashamed of myself,
I never mean to part my lips again
In any words that tends to such a suit.
Arise, true English Lady, whom our isle
May better boast of, than e’er Roman might
Of her, whose ransack’d treasury hath task’d
The vain endeavour of so many pens:
Arise; and be my fault thy honour’s fame,
Which after-ages shall enrich thee with.
I am awaked from this idle dream;⁠—
Warwick, my son, Derby, Artois, and Audley,
Brave warriors all, where are you all this while?

Enter Prince and Lords.

Warwick, I make thee Warden of the North:⁠—
Thou, Prince of Wales, and Audley, straight to sea;
Scour to Newhaven; some there stay for me:⁠—
Myself, Artois, and Derby, will through Flanders
To greet our friends there and to crave their aide:
This night will scarce suffice me, to discover
My folly’s siege against a faithful lover;
For, ere the sun shall gild the eastern sky,
We’ll wake him with our martial harmony. Exeunt.

Act III Scene I

Flanders. The French camp.

Enter King John of France; his two Sons, Charles Duke of Normandy, and Philip; the Duke of Lorraine, and others. King John

Here, till our navy of a thousand sail
Have made a breakfast to our