Poitou. Fields near Poitiers. Another part of the field of battle.
(Audley; First English Esquire; Second English Esquire)
Two squires rescue the wounded Audley. (11 lines)
Enter Audley, wounded, and rescued by two English Esquires.
How fares my lord?
Even as a man may do,
That dines at such a bloody feast as this.
I hope, my lord, that is no mortal scar.
No matter, if it be; the count is cast,
And, in the worst, ends but a mortal man.
Good friends, convey me to the princely Edward,
That in the crimson bravery of my blood
I may become him with saluting him.
I’ll smile, and tell him, that this open scar
Doth end the harvest of his Audley’s war.