ARKCODEX
Act III, Scene 2
1Picardy. Fields near Cressy.
2Enter a Frenchman, meeting certain others, a Woman and two Children, laden with household-stuff, as removing.
3First FrenchmanWell 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?
4Second FrenchmanQuarter-day? aye, and quartering day, I fear:
Have ye not heard the news that flies abroad?
5First FrenchmanWhat news?
6Third FrenchmanHow the French navy is destroy’d at sea
And that the English army is arriv’d.
7First FrenchmanWhat then?
8Second FrenchmanWhat then, quoth you? why, is’t not time to fly,
When envy and destruction is so nigh?
9First FrenchmanContent 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.
10Second FrenchmanAy, 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 nipp’d his careless head.
He, that no sooner will provide a cloak
Than when he sees it doth begin to rain,
May, peradventure, for his negligence,
Be throughly wash’d 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,
Lest, when we would, we cannot be reliev’d.
11First FrenchmanBelike, you then despair of all success
And think your country will be subjugate.
12Third FrenchmanWe cannot tell; ’tis good to fear the worst.
13First FrenchmanYet rather fight, than like unnatural sons
Forsake your loving parents in distress.
14Second FrenchmanTush, 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 remov’d.
15WomanBesides, there goes a prophecy abroad,
Publish’d by one that was a friar once
Whose oracles have many times prov’d true;
And now he says, “The time will shortly come,
When as a lion, roused in the west,
Shall carry hence the flower-de-luce of France”:
These, I can tell ye, and such-like surmises
Strike many Frenchmen cold unto the heart.
16Enter another Frenchman, hastily.
17Fourth FrenchmanFly, countrymen and citizens of France!
Sweet-flow’ring peace, the root of happy life,
Is quite abandon’d and expuls’d the land:
Instead of whom, ransack-constraining war
Sits like to ravens upon your houses’ tops;
Slaughter and mischief walk within your streets,
And, unrestrain’d, make havoc as they pass:
The form whereof even now myself beheld,
Upon this fair mountain, whence I came.
For so far off 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
Turn’d but aside, I likewise might discern
The poor inhabitants, escap’d 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 abus’d,
Your treasure shar’d before your weeping eyes.
Shelter yourselves, for now the storm doth rise.
Away, away! methinks, I hear their drums.
Ah, wretched France, I greatly fear thy fall;
Thy glory shaketh like a tottering wall. Exeunt.