Classic Poem

[SCENE XIII.]

After the christening and marriage done, the Harrolds having attended, they pass over; the Bride is led by two Noblemen, E DMUND of Lancaster and the Earl OF S USSEX ; and the Bishop.

Glocester . Welcome, Joan, Countess of Glocester, to Gilbert de Clare for ever!
Sussex . God give them joy! — Cousin Glocester, let us now go visit the king and queen, and present their majesties with their young son, Edward Prince of Wales.

Then all pass in their order to the K ING'S pavilion; the K ING sits in his tent, with his Pages about him .

Bishop . We here present your highness most humbly with your young son, Edward of Carnarvon, Prince of Wales.
Omnes . God save Edward of Carnarvon, Prince of Wales!
Longsh . [ kisses them both ]. Edward, Prince of Wales, God bless thee with long life and honour! — Welcome, Joan, Countess of Glocester! God bless thee and thine for ever! — Lords, let us visit my queen and wife, whom we will at once present with a son and daughter honoured to her desire.

Sound trumpets: they all march to the chamber ; Bishop speaks to her in her bed .

Bishop . We humbly present your majesty with your young son, Edward of Carnarvon, Prince of Wales!
All . God save Edward of Carnarvon, Prince of Wales.
Elinor [ she kisses him ]. Gramercies, bishop: hold, take that to buy thee a rochet — [ Gives purse ]. — Welcome, Welshman! — Here, nurse, open him and have him to the fire, for God's sake; they have touzed him, and washed him throughly, and that be good. — And welcome, Joan, Countess of Glocester! God bless thee with long life, honour, and heart's-ease! — I am now as good as my word, Glocester; she is thine: make much of her, gentle earl.
Longsh . Now, my sweet Nell, what more commandeth my queen, that nothing may want to perfect her contentment?
Elinor . Nothing, sweet Ned; but pray my king to feast the lords and ladies royally: and thanks a thousand times, good men and women, to you all for this duty and honour done to your prince.
Longsh . Master bridegroom, by old custom this is your waiting-day. — Sir David, you may command all ample welcome in our court for your countrymen. — Brother Edmund, revel it now or never for honour of your England's son. — Glocester, now, like a brave bridegroom, marshal this meny, and set these lords and ladies to dancing; so shall you fulfil the old English proverb, " 'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all. "

After the show, and the K ING and Q UEEN , with all the Lords and Ladies, in place , L ONGSHANKS speaketh .

Longsh . What tidings brings [Lord] Versses to our court?

Enter in V ERSSES with a halter about his neck .

Versses . Tidings to make thee tremble, English king.
Longsh . Me tremble, boy! must not be news from Scotland
Can once make English Edward stand aghast.
Versses . Baliol hath chosen at this time to stir;
To rouse him lion-like, and cast the yoke
That Scots ingloriously have borne from thee
And all the predecessors of thy line;
And make[s] his roads to re-obtain his right,
And for his homage sends thee this despite.
Lancaster . Why, how now, princox! prat'st thou to a king?
Versses . I do my message truly from my king:
This sword and target chide in louder terms.
I bring defiance from King John Baliol
To English Edward and his barons all.
Longsh . Marry, so, methinks, thou defiest me with a witness.
Versses . Baliol, my king, in Barwick makes his court:
His camp he spreads upon the sandy plain,
And dares thee to the battle in his right.
Lancaster . What, court and camp in Englishmen's despite?
Longsh . Hold, messenger: commend me to thy king:
Wear thou my chain, and carry this to him.
Greet all his rout of rebels more or less;
Tell them such shameful end will hit them all:
And wend with this as resolutely back
As thou to England brought'st thy Scottish braves.
Tell, then, disdainfully Baliol from us,
We'll rouse him from his hold, and make him soon
Dislodge his camp and take his walled town.
Say what I bid thee, Versses, to his teeth,
And earn this favour and a better thing.
Versses . Yes, King of England, whom my heart beloves:
Think, as I promised him to brave thee here,
So shall I bid John Baliol base from thee.
Longsh . So shalt thou earn my chain and favour, Versses,
And carry him this token that 'a sends.
Why, now is England's harvest ripe:
Barons, now may you reap the rich renown
That under warlike colours springs in field,
And grows where ensigns wave upon the plains.
False Baliol, Barwick is no hold of proof
To shroud thee from the strength of Edward's arm:
No, Scot; thy treason's fear shall make the breach
For England's pure renown to enter in.
All . Amain, amain, upon these treacherous Scots!
Amain, say all, upon these treacherous Scots!
Longsh . While we with Edmund, Glocester, and the rest,
With speedy journeys gather up our forces,
And beat these braving Scots from England's bounds,
Mortimer, thou shalt take the rout in task
That revel here and spoil fair Cambria.
My queen, when she is strong and well a-foot,
Shall post to London and repose her there.
Then God shall send us haply all to meet,
And joy the honours of our victories.
Take vantage of our foes and see the time,
Keep still our hold, our fight yet on the plain.
Baliol, I come, — proud Baliol and ingrate, —
Prepared to chase thy men from England's gate.