KING EDWARD. Tut, let him fight; we gave him arms to day, And he is laboring for a knighthood, man. [Enter Derby.] DARBY. The Prince, my Lord, the Prince! oh, succour him! He’s close incompast with a world of odds! KING EDWARD. Then will he win a world of honor too, If he by valour can redeem him thence; If not, what remedy? we have more sons Than one, to comfort our declining age. [Enter Audley.] Renowned Edward, give me leave, I pray, To lead my soldiers where I may relieve Your Grace’s son, in danger to be slain. The snares of French, like Emmets on a bank, Muster about him; whilest he, Lion like, Intangled in the net of their assaults, Franticly wrends, and bites the woven toil; But all in vain, he cannot free him self. KING EDWARD. Audley, content; I will not have a man, On pain of death, sent forth to succour him: This is the day, ordained by destiny, To season his courage with those grievous thoughts, That, if he breaketh out, Nestor’s years on earth Will make him savor still of this exploit. DARBY. Ah, but he shall not live to see those days. KING EDWARD. Why, then his Epitaph is lasting praise. AUDLEY. Yet, good my Lord, tis too much willfulness, To let his blood be spilt, that may be saved. KING EDWARD. Exclaim no more; for none of you can tell Whether a borrowed aid will serve, or no; Perhaps he is already slain or ta’en. And dare a Falcon when she’s in her flight, And ever after she’ll be haggard like: Let Edward be delivered by our hands, And still, in danger, he’ll expect the like; But if himself himself redeem from thence, He will have vanquished cheerful death and fear, And ever after dread their force no more Than if they were but babes or Captive slaves. AUDLEY. O cruel Father! Farewell, Edward, then! DARBY. Farewell, sweet Prince, the hope of chivalry! ARTOIS. O, would my life might ransom him from death! KING EDWARD. But soft, me thinks I hear [Retreat sounded.] The dismal charge of Trumpets’ loud retreat. All are not slain, I hope, that went with him; Some will return with tidings, good or bad. [Enter Prince Edward in triumph, bearing in his hands his chivered Lance, and the King of Boheme, borne before, wrapped in the Colours. They run and imbrace him.] AUDLEY. O joyful sight! victorious Edward lives! DERBY. Welcome, brave Prince! KING EDWARD. Welcome, Plantagenet! PRINCE EDWARD. [Kneels and kisses his father’s hand.] First having done my duty as beseemed, Lords, I regreet you all with hearty thanks. And now, behold, after my winter’s toil, My painful voyage on the boisterous sea Of wars devouring gulfs and steely rocks,