Behind the rollicking archers come the mail-clad knights, a noble and
more sedate company, flashing back the May-day sun from their shining
armour and their gleaming lance-points. Yonder is Chandos, the wise and
watchful general whose keen eye perceived the critical moment in the
great fight—he who cried to the Prince, “Now, sir, ride forward, and
the day is yours.” And there is Audley, pale and weak from his wounds,
but gallant as ever. Was it not he whom the Prince greeted by the
glorious name of _Preux_, and dubbed the best knight on the field? Right
proud must he feel to-day. And who be these? In sooth, they are the
premier nobles of France, rich prizes of war, though they bear, neither
by sign nor by look, the semblance of defeat.
And now the air is rent with still louder shouts as a noble figure on a
superb white charger rides by. It is the King of France, bearing himself
as a conqueror, yet knowing full well that he is a captive gracing a
victor’s triumph. But not for him are the shouts. Look at that simple
knight in black armour, quietly riding by his side on a palfrey. He is
the hero of the day, the cynosure of all eyes, the praise of all
tongues. He would seem to be no more than the French king’s squire; yet
he is the victor of Poitiers, a name of terror in France, the idol of
his knights, the boast of his archers, the pride of his land.
The stately procession moves on to the great hall at Westminster, where
Edward the king waits the coming of his noble captive and his gallant
son. With knightly courtesy he rises from his throne and embraces his
unfortunate brother of France, and gives him gracious welcome to his
court. He bids him be of good cheer; and the French king, who has borne
the ordeal with manly fortitude, is right glad that the public parade is
over. With gracious tact the English king conceals his triumphant joy;
he does everything in his power to play the gracious host to the
honoured guest; but nothing that he can do will remove the shame and
grief that rack the proud heart of the “Fortune of France.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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