ARTOIS. Edward Plantagenet, prince of Wales, Hold, take this target, wear it on thy arm; And may the view thereof, like Perseus’ shield, Astonish and transform thy gazing foes To senseless images of meager death: Fight and be valiant, conquer where thou comest! KING EDWARD. Now wants there nought but knighthood, which deferred We leave, till thou hast won it in the field. PRINCE EDWARD. My gracious father and ye forward peers, This honor you have done me, animates And cheers my green, yet scarce appearing strength With comfortable good presaging signs, No other wise than did old Jacob’s words, When as he breathed his blessings on his sons. These hallowed gifts of yours when I profane, Or use them not to glory of my God, To patronage the fatherless and poor, Or for the benefit of England’s peace, Be numb my joints, wax feeble both mine arms, Wither my heart, that, like a sapless tree, I may remain the map of infamy. KING EDWARD. Then thus our steeled Battles shall be ranged: The leading of the vaward, Ned, is thine; To dignify whose lusty spirit the more, We temper it with Audly’s gravity, That, courage and experience joined in one, Your manage may be second unto none: For the main battles, I will guide my self; And, Darby, in the rearward march behind, That orderly disposed and set in ray, Let us to horse; and God grant us the day! [Exeunt.] ACT III. SCENE IV. The Same. [Alarum. Enter a many French men flying. After them Prince Edward, running. Then enter King John and Duke of Lorrain.] KING JOHN. Oh, Lorrain, say, what mean our men to fly? Our number is far greater than our foes. LORRAIN. The garrison of Genoaes, my Lord, That came from Paris weary with their march, Grudging to be so suddenly imployd, No sooner in the forefront took their place, But, straight retiring, so dismayed the rest, As likewise they betook themselves to flight, In which, for haste to make a safe escape, More in the clustering throng are pressed to death, Than by the enemy, a thousand fold. KING JOHN. O hapless fortune! Let us yet assay, If we can counsel some of them to stay. [Exeunt.] ACT III. SCENE V. The Same. [Enter King Edward and Audley.] KING EDWARD. Lord Audley, whiles our son is in the chase, With draw our powers unto this little hill, And here a season let us breath our selves. AUDLEY. I will, my Lord. [Exit. Sound Retreat.] KING EDWARD. Just dooming heaven, whose secret providence To our gross judgement is inscrutable, How are we bound to praise thy wondrous works, That hast this day given way unto the right, And made the wicked stumble at them selves! [Enter Artois.] ARTOIS. Rescue, king Edward! rescue for thy son! KING EDWARD. Rescue, Artois? what, is he prisoner, Or by violence fell beside his horse? ARTOIS. Neither, my Lord: but narrowly beset With turning Frenchmen, whom he did pursue, As tis impossible that he should scape, Except your highness presently descend.