Act 1, Scene 1

KING EDWARD	Robert of Artois, banish'd though thou be From France, thy native country, yet with us Thou shalt retain as great a signiory; For we create thee Earl of Richmond here. And now go forwards with our pedigree: Who next succeeded Philip Le Beau?
ARTOIS	Three sons of his, which all, successively Did sit upon their father's regal Throne, Yet died, and left no issue of their loins.
KING EDWARD	But was my mother sister unto those?
ARTOIS	She was, my Lord; and only Isabel Was all the daughters that this Phillip had, Whom afterward your father took to wife; And from the fragrant garden of her womb Your gracious self, the flower of Europe's hope, Derived is inheritor to France. But note the rancor of rebellious minds: When thus the lineage of Le Beau was out, The French obscured your mother's privilege, And, though she were the next of blood, proclaim'd John, of the house of Valois, now their king: The reason was, they say, the realm of France, Replete with Princes of great parentage, Ought not admit a governor to rule, Except he be descended of the male; And that's the special ground of their contempt Wherewith they study to exclude your grace: But they shall find that forged ground of theirs To be but dusty heaps of brittle sand. Perhaps it will be thought a heinous thing, That I, a Frenchman, should discover this; But Heaven I call to record of my vows: It is not hate nor any private wrong, But love unto my country and the right, Provokes my tongue, thus lavish in report. You are the lineal watchman of our peace, And John of Valois indirectly climbs; What then should subjects but embrace their King? And wherein may our duty more be seen, Than striving to rebate a tyrant's pride And place the true shepherd of our commonwealth?
KING EDWARD	This counsel, Artois, like to fruitful showers, Hath added growth unto my dignity; And, by the fiery vigor of thy words, Hot courage is engender'd in my breast, Which heretofore was rack'd in ignorance, But now doth mount with golden wings of fame, And will approve fair Isabel's descent, Able to yoke their stubborn necks with steel, That spurn against my sov'reignty in France. [Sound a horn.] A messenger? Lord Audley, know from whence.
	[Exit Audley, and returns.]
AUDLEY	The Duke of Lorraine, having cross'd the seas, Entreats he may have conference with your highness.
KING EDWARD	Admit him, Lords, that we may hear the news. [Exeunt Lords. King takes his State. Re-enter Lords; with Lorraine, attended.] Say, Duke of Lorraine, wherefore art thou come?
LORRAIN	The most renowned prince, King John of France, Doth greet thee, Edward, and by me commands, That, for so much as by his liberal gift The Guyenne dukedom is entail'd to thee, Thou do him lowly homage for the same. And, for that purpose, here I summon thee, Repair to France within these forty days, That there, according as the custom is, Thou may'st be sworn true liegeman to our King; Or else, thy title in that province dies, And he himself will repossess the place.
KING EDWARD	See, how occasion laughs me in the face! No sooner minded to prepare for France, But straight I am invited, nay, with threats, Upon a penalty, enjoin'd to come: 'Twere but a childish part to say him nay. Lorraine, return this answer to thy Lord: I mean to visit him as he requests; But how? not servilely disposed to bend, But like a conqueror to make him bow. His lame unpolished shifts are come to light; And truth hath pulled the vizard from his face, That set a gloss upon his arrogance. Dare he command a fealty in me? Tell him, the Crown that he usurps, is mine, And where he sets his foot, he ought to kneel. 'Tis not a petty dukedom that I claim, But all the whole dominions of the realm; Which if with grudging he refuse to yield, I'll take away those borrow'd plumes of his, And send him naked to the wilderness.
LORRAINE	Then, Edward, here, in spite of all thy lords, I do pronounce defiance to thy face.
PRINCE EDWARD	Defiance, Frenchman? we rebound it back, Even to the bottom of thy master's throat. And, be it spoke with reverence of the king, My gracious father, and these other lords, I hold thy message but as scurrilous, And him that sent thee, like the lazy drone, Crept up by stealth unto the eagle's nest; From whence we'll shake him with so rough a storm, As others shall be warned by his harm.
WARWICK	Bid him leave of the lion's case he wears, Lest, meeting with the lion in the field, He chance to tear him piecemeal for his pride.
ARTOIS	The soundest counsel I can give his grace, Is to surrender ere he be constrain'd. A voluntary mischief hath less scorn, Than when reproach with violence is borne.
LORRAIN	Degenerate traitor, viper to the place Where thou wast foster'd in thine infancy, Bearest thou a part in this conspiracy?
	[He draws his sword.]
KING EDWARD	Lorraine, behold the sharpness of this steel: [Drawing his sword.] Fervent desire that sits against my heart, Is far more thorny-pricking than this blade; That, with the nightingale, I shall be scar'd, As oft as I dispose myself to rest, Until my colours be display'd in France: This is my final answer; so be gone.
LORRAINE	It is not that, nor any English brave, Afflicts me so, as doth his poison'd view, That is most false, should most of all be true.
	[Exeunt Lorraine, and Train.]
KING EDWARD	Now, Lord, our fleeting Bark is under sail; Our gage is thrown, and war is soon begun, But not so quickly brought unto an end.
	[Enter Mountague.]
	But wherefore comes Sir William Mountague? How stands the league between the Scot and us?
MOUNTAGUE	Crack'd and dissever'd, my renowned lord. The treacherous king no sooner was inform'd Of your with drawing of your army back, But straight, forgetting of his former oath, He made invasion on the bordering Towns: Berwick is won; Newcastle spoil'd and lost, And now the tyrant hath begirt with siege The castle of Roxborough, where enclos'd The Countess Salisbury is like to perish.
KING EDWARD	That is thy daughter, Warwick, is it not? Whose husband hath in Britain serv'd so long About the planting of Lord Mountford there?
WARWICK	It is, my Lord.
KING EDWARD	Ignoble David! hast thou none to grieve But silly ladies, with thy threat'ning arms? But I will make you shrink your snaily horns! First, therefore, Audley, this shall be thy charge, Go levy footmen for our wars in France; And, Ned, take muster of our men at arms: In every shire elect a several band. Let them be Soldiers of a lusty spirit, Such as dread nothing but dishonor's blot; Be wary, therefore, since we do commence A famous War, and with so mighty a nation. Derby, be thou ambassador for us Unto our father-in-law, the Earl of Hainault: Make him acquainted with our enterprise, And likewise will him, with our own allies That are in Flanders, to solicit too The Emperour of Almaine in our name. My self, whilst you are jointly thus employed, Will, with these forces that I have at hand , March, and once more repulse the traitorous Scot. But, Sirs, be resolute: we shall have wars On every side; and, Ned, thou must begin Now to forget thy study and thy books, And ure thy shoulders to an armour's weight.
PRINCE EDWARD	As cheerful sounding to my youthful spleen This tumult is of war's increasing broils, As at the coronation of a king, The joyful clamours of the people are, When 'Ave, Caesar!' they pronounce aloud. Within this school of honor I shall learn, Either to sacrifice my foes to death, Or in a rightful quarrel spend my breath. Then cheerfully forward, each a several way; In great affairs 'tis nought to use delay.
	[Exeunt.]

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